The Warlord's Vengeance

Shifting Lust 2: The Warlord's Vengeance Lexxie Couper All rights reserved. Copyright ©2006 Lexxie Couper No part of...

Author: Couper Lexxie

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Shifting Lust 2: The Warlord's Vengeance Lexxie Couper All rights reserved.

Copyright ©2006 Lexxie Couper

No part of this e-book may be reproduced or shared by any electronic or mechanical

means, including but not limited to printing, file sharing, and email, without prior

written permission from Changeling Press LLC.

ISBN (10) 1-59596-217-4

ISBN (13) 978-1-59596-217-1

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Changeling Press LLC

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Editor: Chrissie Henderson

Cover Artist: Bryan Keller

This e-book file contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language which some may find offensive and which is not appropriate for a young audience. Changeling Press E-Books are for sale to adults, only, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.

Prologue “I want her found, High Priestess of Calis. I want her found now.” The Murukhan leaned across the low, round table, the grimy bar’s dim lights casting his scarred, scaly face in deep shadows. His eyes, however, glowed with a fevered passion. Wild and almost obsessive. Cy regarded him, thankful for the dark diaphanous material of her spiritual headdress hiding her expression. She was powerful and feared few, but the Murukhan warlord didn’t seem altogether sane. “So we have an agreement?” she asked, maintaining a steady voice. “The shape-shifter is yours -- I don’t care what you do with her -- but a’Tor is mine.” The Murukhan’s eyes narrowed to thin, yellow slits. For a second Cy thought she’d drawn her last breath, but then a slow grin stretched his mouth, pointed teeth glistening in the bar’s low light. He spat on his palm and held it out to her. “Deal.” Smiling behind her headdress, she smacked her palm against his. “Thank you, Lord Mur’dek,” she said. “Kyra Issarei will be in your hands within the month.”

Chapter 1 Raiven a’Tor gripped the butt of his gun beneath the cover of his long, leather jacket, watching the slim woman with shaggy, white hair cross The Tight Hole’s crowded floor. His eyes roamed her body, cock twitching at what he saw. Long, smooth thighs, flat stomach, pert breasts that bounced lightly with each step she took. The shiny black, body-hugging suit covering her from neck to toes did little to hide the fact it was a body made for sin. Midnight-black eyes met his across the busy inn and he gripped his gun. Worry swam in their inky depths. Worry and agitation. His building erection forgotten, he frowned. Something wasn’t right. He made a move to get up but she shook her head. Slightly. No. Raiven pulled in a deep breath, muscles coiled so tight he felt sure they would snap. Three months of being hunted by Mur’dek’s forces was beginning to take its toll. On his body and his mind. Kyra kept him sane. If it weren’t for her, he would have lost it by now. And the six systems would be a bloodier place for it. He shot his lover a quick look, noticing she’d changed direction. No longer headed toward him, she instead approached the inn’s long, crowded bar, hips swaying. Anger rolled through him. Not because of the abrupt change in their plans -- they’d been on the run together long enough now to trust each other’s actions -- but because of the way every male she passed turned to leer at her ass. Jaw clenched, he watched a particularly large Jaxian reach out with one lower arm and curl fat, meaty fingers into her upper thigh. Get your fucking hands off her. The urge to smash the bastard’s face in was compelling, but Raiven didn’t move. Kyra didn’t want anyone to know they were together, so for the moment, he stayed still. No matter how much he hated it.

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Shifting Lust 2: The Warlord's Vengeance

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The Jaxian tugged Kyra closer, upper hands running over her torso and ass as his free lower hand snaked around her wrist. “C’mon sit on me lap, lovely,” Raiven heard him coax from across the room. “I’ve got somethin’ right hard for ya.” Raiven snarled, but before he could get to his feet, Kyra spun, smashing her knee into the Jaxian’s leering face. Head snapping backward, he toppled to the filthy floor, his drinking companion laughing uproariously as Kyra stepped over his crumpled form and went on her way. She glanced over her shoulder and for a brief moment, their eyes made contact. Raiven smiled slightly. Show-off. Her answering grin was almost undetectable as she turned to the bar, sliding in between a hulking Lunarian merchant and a wiry Palon. Slipping her arm around the Lunarian’s shoulder, she tangled her fingers in his greasy hair and pulled his head down to hers. Kissing him deeply. Raiven’s stomach turned upside-down but he didn’t move because just as Kyra’s open lips slid over the Lunarian’s, two Murukhan soldiers stepped into the inn, yellow eyes flicking around the crowded room. Fuck. He shot a quick look at Kyra. She was still lip-locked to the Lunarian, her slim frame all but concealed by his heavy jacket as he mashed her closer against his body. Gut a tight mess, Raiven slowly returned his gun to its holster and pulled the collar of his jacket up around his neck. It was possible the Murukhans had no knowledge of the large bounty Lord Mur’dek had placed on his and Kyra’s heads. Possible, but unlikely. It was time to get out of there. He gave the two soldiers a quick look. They were still on the other side of the packed inn, shoving their way through the crowd. Grabbing every female they encountered and staring hard at her face. Raiven scowled. Guess that clears that up. He slid from his dark booth and with one last glance at Kyra -- still thoroughly kissing the Lunarian -- stepped into the crowd and made his way to the back rooms. In

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the last sex den there was an exit to a back alley that ran directly past the bunker where the Raptor, finally repaired after their last Murukhan encounter, waited. His gut twisted again. Hopefully, Kyra would make her own way there. If she didn’t, he’d go back and get her. Just a lot more people would die in the process.

*** “The sex dens are out the back,” Kyra whispered in the Lunarian’s ear, nipping his earlobe between her teeth. The Lunarian jumped a little, a low groan of surprised pleasure rumbling in his throat. She flicked at his earlobe with her tongue and then ran her lips down his neck, burying her head into the curve of his shoulder. “Come on, baby,” she urged against his skin in a husky voice. “Don’t make me wait any longer.” Running her tongue back to his ear, she looked over his shoulder into the crowded inn. Where are they? The soldiers that had followed her into The Tight Hole were nowhere to be seen, but she wasn’t risking it. She’d seen Raiven slip out of their pre-arranged meeting booth moments earlier, face like thunder. That meant the Murukhans were still in the room. Somewhere. If she didn’t get this hulking tub of Lunarian lard away from the bar and out to the back, she was in trouble. Sliding one hand down his spongy torso she tugged at his trousers, slipping her fingers around his bulging cock and giving it a slight squeeze. “Let’s go,” she said with a hungry look. He groped her ass clumsily. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous.” Kyra resisted the urge to scream. Didn’t the idiot get the message? She risked another glance over his shoulder and her heart leapt into frantic life. Shit! There they are! The two soldiers were halfway across the inn’s packed floor, hissing at anyone not cooperating with their search. She had to get out of here. Now. She gave the Lunarian’s cock a sharp tug. “Don’t you want this inside me?”

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Another groan of pleasure filled his throat. “Oh, I do, sweetmeat. I do.” Sweetmeat? Gods, what a charmer! Favouring him with a sensual smile, she pulled on his sweaty dick one more time. “Well, let’s go.” Finally, he got to his feet, his hulking frame towering over her. He threw some chits on the bar and plastered one arm around her. “I’m going to fuck you senseless,” he promised, eyes boring into hers with burning excitement. “No matter how loud you scream for mercy.” His stiff cock ground painfully against her hipbone. Sour breath fanned her face in short, sharp pants. “Or how much you beg me to stop.” Kyra’s breath caught in her throat. Shit. I’ve picked a weirdo. However, it was too late to change tactics. The Murukhans were but a few feet away. Headed in her direction. She rubbed her hips against his straining cock. “Why would I beg you to stop?” His mouth stretched into a leering grin and they were moving, the Lunarian practically carrying her from the bar toward the back rooms, hands squeezing her tits, cock ramming against her ass. Shoved into a dimly lit den, Kyra stumbled across the floor and onto the filthy bed. She bit back a curse. They were in the wrong den. This one had no exit door. She scrabbled backward, watching the Lunarian stalk toward her, peeling off layers of clothing as he drew closer. Shit. The only way out of this den was past him and something about the look in his eyes -- depraved lust mixed with hungry lunacy -- said he wasn’t letting her go anywhere in a hurry. She groaned silently. Slipping away while he was undressing was out of the question now. She’d have to shift. Shit. The Lunarian, now naked from the waist up, reached the bed. His torso was huge, an unnerving combination of fat and muscle. Matted black hair covered his chest like a greasy pelt, except for his nipples that stood out like two angry pink grubs. “Get ready,” he leered, tugging at his belt. Kyra curled her lip. “Oh, I’m ready.”

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With a snort, the Lunarian yanked open his trousers, a cock the size of a Palon viper springing free. “Impressive, huh?” “Very.” He dropped to the bed and lunged. His bulk squashed her. Rough hands pawed at her. Kyra turned her head, listening for steps at the door. She had precious little time. The Murukhans would soon be finished with the inn and headed to the dens. They could be at the door even now and -- despite her earlier words -- she wasn’t ready. For one thing, she still was fully dressed. She liked her suit. She didn’t want it torn to shreds. Fat fingers fumbled at her neckline. Looking for a way in. “Let me help,” she purred, stilling his hands with one of hers as she pressed a tiny button at the base of her throat. With a faint hiss, an invisible zipper plunged from neck to navel. “By Zarx’s reign,” the Lunarian groaned, grabbing immediately at her exposed breasts. “Thank you, Ithis.” Kyra pressed her hands on either side of his sweaty face, catching his eyes with hers. “Undress me. Quickly. I want to feel your flesh on mine.” “No problem.” Frenzied hands tugged at her suit and in seconds she was naked, lying on the mattress with the practically drooling Lunarian between her legs. “By the Five Moons!” He stared fixedly at her cunt. “I’m going to enjoy this.” Kyra pulled in a deep breath. Okay. Here goes. She dragged her hands through his hair, pressing the tips of her fingertips firm against his skull. Her muscles tensed. Liquid heat rippled over her flesh. Waves of undulating tension crashed through her. A throb pulsed between her thighs, hot, wet and delicious. It didn’t matter if the source was a distasteful lump of lard, the beginning of the transformation always felt pleasurable. Unless it was an aberrant shift. A shift without fingers-to-scalp contact. The gods help her if she ever needed to do one of those…

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The Lunarian gasped, his bulk jerking, cock shoving against her crotch as he writhed in the closest he’d get to sexual ecstasy that night. “What the --?” Kyra threw back her head, blood running hot. Here it comes! Here it comes. The shift began. A million pinpoints of fire scorched her flesh. She felt her body begin to grow, change. Ripple and stretch. Her cunt swelled. With a squishy popping sound, a stiff cock jutted from the junction of her thighs. Thighs that were no longer firm, long and slender, but now hairy slabs of ropey muscle surrounded by layers of fat. “What --?” The Lunarian bucked again, confusion and ecstasy distorting his face. Sweat slicked his skin. His fevered eyes bulged. Kyra’s fingers dug harder against his scalp, readying for the next stage of the shift. She wasn’t looking forward to it but she couldn’t stop it either. It was a necessary evil. Without it, one of them would die. Her mind opened. The Lunarian’s psyche flooded in -- a torrential river of vivid memories, hideous thoughts and ideals. Kyra’s stomach turned. Gods of Kaius, he’s insane! The Lunarian howled, shuddering as his id twisted into Kyra’s. “By Ithis!” he cried, hips bucking. Harder than ever, his cock smashed painfully against the fat dick and swollen balls now bulging between her thighs. New cock throbbing, her flesh screamed in burning pleasure. It’s done. Oh, thank the gods, it’s done! She yanked her hands from the Lunarian’s head. “Was it good for you too?” she asked, voice deep, gravelly and no longer hers. The Lunarian stared at her. “Wha… wha…?” He staggered back, almost falling off the bed. “What the fuck… who are you?” Kyra looked down, appraising her new shape. Large gut, meaty arms, solid legs, thick… A wry smile pulled at her lips. It had been a while since she’d shifted into a male’s form. She’d forgotten what it was like to have a dick. Looking up at the gaping Lunarian, her smile turned into a grin. “Who do I look like?” The Lunarian stared at her. “Me.”

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“In the name of Lord Mur’dek, Supreme Ruler of the Six Systems, I order you to freeze!” Kyra spun around. There, standing at the door, were the two Murukhan soldiers. Weapons drawn. Her pulse quickened. Here we go. Gods of Kaius protect me. “Help me!” she screamed. She scrambled from the bed and ran at the soldiers. “Help me! The bitch stole my body!” “What?” the Lunarian yelped behind her. “Freeze!” the Murukhan in front repeated, raising his pulse blaster and levelling it at her now hairy chest. “Or I will --” “The bitch changed!” Kyra shouted in a petrified voice. “By the Five Moons, help me!” The perverted psyche twisting through her head laughed, even as the frantic owner of that psyche squealed, “I’m me! She looks like me! Kill her!” The soldier in front shot a confused backward glance at his partner. It was just the hesitation Kyra needed. Lightning fast, she swung her massive arm and smacked the soldier across his ugly, scaly face. He flung to the side and collided with the wall in a loud thump, eyes rolling back into his head. Kyra didn’t pause, her stare already fixed on the second soldier. Before he could move, she grabbed the muzzle of his weapon and yanked the blaster from his hand. Or tried to. “Not fucking likely, shape-shifter,” he growled, yanking back, slitted yellow eyes fixed on her face. “Kill her!” the Lunarian screamed and Kyra felt the floor vibrate as he charged them. “Kill her!” The soldier tugged harder on his gun. “By order of Lord Mur’dek --” “Tell Dek to go fuck himself,” Kyra snarled and with a savage jerk tore the blaster from the Murukhan’s hold.

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“Kill her! Kill her!” her Lunarian buddy squealed. “Oh, for the love of the gods,” she growled, smashing the blaster’s butt against the soldier’s scaly temple before he could think. He collapsed to the floor in a dead weight as Kyra spun to the Lunarian. In a powerful arc, she drove the blaster up into the underside of his chin. “Will you shut up!” Didn’t expect that, did you? Kyra watched the Lunarian, his eyes glazing over as he dropped to his ass and fell backward. His head hit the floor with a sickening thud. “Don’t move!” She turned, just in time to see the first soldier level his gun at her. The room flashed with a blinding light and Kyra dived to the left, barely avoiding the pulse blast as it ripped through the air. The Lunarian’s unconscious bulk cushioned the fall and, as the Murukhan aimed his weapon at her again, she targeted his chest with his partner’s blaster and squeezed the trigger. A deafening crack filled the room and the top half of the soldier’s body disintegrated. For a moment, Kyra slumped against the Lunarian’s bulk. Her heart hammered in her chest. Her head screamed with demented pleasure. With every second she learnt more and more about the new id in her head. Her chum might be a merchant but he was a closet psycho as well. A zealot with a taste for pain. The bulging cock between her thighs throbbed with blood-lust arousal. The coppery stench in the air made her horny. If she didn’t revert soon, who knew what she’d do next. Mutilate the bodies. I want to feel the sweet blood on my lips. My body. Purification is bliss. Kyra shuddered, disgust ripping through her. She had to hurry. Not just to get away, but to get the bastard out of her head! She shoved at the Lunarian, scowling when he grunted. “Wake up, you sick fuck.” Unfocussed eyes fluttered open, but before he could fully regain consciousness, Kyra shoved her hands against his scalp. Skin rippling, burning fire and ice, she reverted to her true form. Thank the gods. The Lunarian gazed at her, eyes beginning to clear. “Who are you?” he croaked.

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Pulling her hands from his head, Kyra stood. “Thankfully,” she said, adjusting the setting on the Murukhan soldier’s pulse blaster to stun, “not you any more.” And with that, she levelled the gun at his chest and squeezed the trigger.

Chapter 2 Raiven flicked the Raptor’s autopilot into activation. Their course co-ordinates were in the ship’s computer, their trajectory was clear for hyper-flight, and the space around them free of Murukhan vessels for fifty segments. He smiled. Time to join Kyra. Leaving the Raptor’s cockpit, he made his way along the quiet corridor leading to their quarters. Whatever Kyra had experienced that afternoon, she was staying tightlipped. She’d shifted with the Lunarian, he knew that much. They’d spoken little since she’d run to his ship, Murukhan blaster in hand, but there had been a light in her eyes he hadn’t liked much. Tortured, fevered and unnerving. Like she’d been to hell and back and a part of her had liked the trip. Elements of the source -- the form of the individual Kyra took when she shifted -always stayed with her. A residue of memories, dreams, and for a period of time, personality. She’d been sexually voracious for weeks after her final shift with Xia, and just as demanding as the Princess of the Five Moons as well. Raiven’s gut clenched. Who knew what kind of creep was now in his lover’s head? Or how long the memories would haunt her? Ducking through the hatch, he stepped into their quarters. And was hit from behind by something that felt like a Jyian Star-Fleet. Kyra stared at him as she pinned his shoulders to the wall, eyes still glowing with that fevered, tortured light. Her naked body slicked in perspiration, she drew deep, ragged breaths. As if she’d already been fighting some unseen foe. “Kyra?” She smashed his back against the wall again, hard enough to knock the breath from his body. “Shut up,” she hissed, ripping his shirt open.

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Gripping his wrists, she rammed them against the wall beside his head, black eyes crazed. “I’m going to fuck you senseless,” she said as she shoved his legs apart with her knees, her normally husky voice deep and gravelly. “No matter how loud you scream for mercy.” Latching onto one of his nipples she bit down. Hard. Raiven arched in agony, sucking in a sharp breath. “Holy shit, Kyra! What are you --” “Shut the fuck up,” she spat without lifting her head. Her teeth and tongue tortured his nipple, pulling and gnawing in a way completely unlike her. For a few weeks after her shift with Xia she’d been a touch forceful when they made love, but nothing like this. This was pure pain. She wanted to hurt him. She? Or whoever’s still in her head? “Kyra,” he said through clenched teeth. He could throw her off. She was strong, but he was stronger. But who knew what would happen if he did? He needed to bring his love back to the surface, not fight with the residual fuck currently in charge. Raising her head, she stared at him. Eyes usually so full of laughter smouldered with a fire that had very little to do with desire. “I told you to shut up.” She slapped him across the face, palm striking his cheek with more power than her normal body held. Snatching her wrist with his free hand, he glared at her. Fury coursed through his veins but he kept it in check. Just. Under his palm, he could feel the pulse in her wrist hammering like the devil. With every ragged breath she took, her breasts heaved, rising and falling rapidly. His cock twitched at the magnificent sight but he shoved his lust aside. It wasn’t Kyra before him at the moment -- not entirely -- and it was only her he wanted to fuck. Not some interloper who wouldn’t get out of her head. “Kyra,” he spoke, low and firm. “Focus.” That black stare narrowed. “Focus on this.” She grabbed one wrist and flicked his arm, flipping him to the floor in a blur of sickening vertigo before he could move. Dropping onto him, she ground her cunt against his cock, the heat of her sex like a brand even through the coarse leather of his

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pants. “Now you’re going to do exactly what I say,” she snarled, lips curling away from her bared teeth. “And you’re going to like it.” “Kyra…” Her thighs squeezed together, crushing his body in an excruciating vise. “I told you to shut up.” Pain shot through him, white, slicing and ribboned with burning threads of scorching lust. He knew Kyra wasn’t completely in charge, but that didn’t stop his cock pumping full of eager blood. It was still her. When his woman straddled him as she did now, his cock knew only one thing. Only wanted one thing. Yanking on his wrists, she wrenched his arms higher above his head and pinned them together on the floor. Her breasts brushed his face as she leant over his body, and unable to stop himself, he reached out and caught one rosy nipple with his lips, sucking the tight nub of flesh into his mouth. There was a hiss from Kyra and for just a second, a soft moan as well. Then she jerked away, smacking him across the face again. “I did not give you permission.” Another surge of anger roared through Raiven’s veins. No one hit him. Ever. With a savage thrust, he bucked her off, grabbing her wrists as she stumbled from his body and flipping her to her back. He now straddled her. Just the way he wanted it. “Listen, Kyra,” he spoke, struggling for calm. His ramrod cock pressed against her damp cunt, eager to be free of its confines. To be buried into that tight, slick channel. He pulled in a slow breath, a breath heavy with the musky smell of her lust. His heartbeat tripling, his cock surged with roaring blood. Damn it, a’Tor. Control yourself! “You need to focus,” he said. “Now. If you don’t we’re both going to hate ourselves.” A laugh -- low and unlike any he’d heard from her -- slipped past Kyra’s lips. “Hate is just one step away from lust, Raiven a’Tor.” Raiven froze. At that very moment, he wanted to fuck like there was no tomorrow. He was hard, so fucking hard that his cock burned with an almost

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unbearable pain. But it was a base, elemental hunger. Primitive in its savagery. His love for Kyra was too perfect to be destroyed by fucking her when she wasn’t completely in control. Reluctantly -- he pulled away, rising to his feet. “Not like this, Kyra.” Black eyes watched him step backward across the small room. “Coward,” she smirked before flipping to her feet. His eyes dipped to her glorious body, watching her stalk toward him. She was completely exposed. Utterly perfect. Oh, God. When she reached for his belt buckle, he didn’t stop her. He couldn’t. When she dropped to her knees, he shut his eyes and groaned. When her fingers fisted around his straining, rigid cock he dropped his head and said, “Oh, Kyra, forgive me.” And when those full, lush lips closed around his throbbing organ he buried his fingers into her hair and held her head. Warm hands brushed up his thighs, flirting with his balls before taking their heavy weight into the palm. Her tongue rolled around his shaft, flicking at the swollen head. Teeth nipped at the sensitive tip. Again. Again. “Kyra…” Her name was barely a whisper on his lips. The mind-blowing suction suddenly left his cock. “She’s not in charge, big boy.” Raiven’s eyes shot open. Fuck! He shoved her away. Hard. Wicked laughter followed as she slid across the floor, skidding to a halt with a smirk on her face. Anger consumed him. Anger and disgust. Yet even as he watched, the snide chuckles shaking her body turned abruptly into silent sobs of misery. In a heartbeat, he was by her side, wrapping his arms around her body and holding her close. “It’s okay, lover,” he murmured against the top of her head. “No, it isn’t,” Kyra replied, pressing her wet face against his chest. Leaning back a little, he lifted her chin until she looked at him. “Yes, it is.” He smiled, wiping away her tears with the pads of his thumbs. “You are who you are. Kyra Issarei, last of the Chamelyon shape-shifters. The woman I will love forever.” Not letting her argue, he dropped his head, finally doing what he’d wanted to do when first stepping into their quarters. He kissed her.

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***

Corporal Kuj entered the chamber. Reluctantly. The last soldier to speak to Lord Mur’dek about the shape-shifter never re-emerged from the meeting. Delivering bad news was a definite risk in the warlord’s fortress at the best of times, but if the bad news related to Kyra Issarei… Kuj swallowed, coarse neck scales rasping against the collar of his uniform. Thank Mirsch’r he had good news. Sort of. Stopping halfway across Mur’dek’s private chamber, he studied the massive frame of his lord staring at the night sky through the far window. Kuj swallowed again. He didn’t want to die today, but who knew how his lord would react? Ever since the Chamelyon had escaped -- again -- the warlord was like a cut Frak snake. Pissed off and dangerous. Adjusting the collar of his uniform, Kuj cleared his throat.

Mur’dek did not move. “Yes?”

Kuj snapped to attention. “The Chamelyon has been found, my Lord.”

The warlord’s back stiffened. “Where?”

“A parcept out of Jax. Headed toward the Darzian System.”

Steely back muscles started to quiver, and as Kuj stood frozen, Mur’dek began to

laugh. “Excellent.”

*** “His name is Nalyx,” Kyra said, brushing an errant strand of hair from her forehead. She and Raiven sat together in the Raptor’s cockpit, headed toward Darzia. The warmth from their lovemaking was beginning to chill. Talking about the leftover Lunarian in her head was a real mood killer. “He has personally slaughtered over twenty lives,” she continued, mouth dry. “Countless more in ceremonies of ‘religious sacrifice.’ Rape is his favourite pastime, all in the name of Ithis.” Raiven’s frown deepened. “The Lunarian God of Renewal? That doesn’t make sense.”

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Kyra pulled her eyes from the passing stars, giving him a wry smile. “Ithis has many devotees, my love, some not so benevolent.” She reached out and gently touched the tattoo of the mysterious black bird on his biceps, drawing comfort from its silent presence. “There are many ways to interpret ‘Purge of dust and age to bring forth life anew. Seek out Blood, Breath. In the Cavern of Sin shall you find Renewal.’ Nalyx believes it to mean kill as many non-believers as possible.” “The Cavern of Sin?” “Is a woman’s cunt.” “And this fucker’s in your head?” “Yes. But he’s fading.” Her wry smile turned into a sardonic chuckle. “He’s pretty much just an irritating buzz now. Like a Jyian gnat.” Raiven’s jaw clenched and he reached for her hand “This has to stop, Kyra. I’ve had a gut-full of seeing you go through this shit every time we need to slip away from a Murukhan patrol. I don’t give a flying fuck how powerful Dek is, the running stops. As of right now.” “And your plan is what?” She raised her eyebrows. They’d had this discussion more than once already. “Walk into Mur’dek’s fortress and blow the bastard’s head off?” Black eyes flashed. “Exactly.” Weary frustration settled in her chest. She loved Raiven more than life itself but he was an arrogant pain in the ass sometimes. A pain in the ass that was going to get himself killed if she didn’t stop him. “And then what?” she demanded. “You single handedly take out the entire Murukhan race? All because their dead leader didn’t like your girlfriend? Is genocide really what you had planned for the afternoon?” She expected him to laugh. He always did at this point in the argument. He’d see how foolish and macho he was being, he’d kiss her and then they’d make wild, passionate love. He didn’t laugh. Kyra stared at him. Gods, he’s serious this time!

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Raiven stood, expression darker than a storm. “Don’t underestimate me, Kyra. I may have my reason for living back, but that doesn’t make me any less dangerous.” Rising to her feet as well, she met his angry gaze. “And your ‘reason for living’ wants you in her bed, not dead and buried in the ground. Or vaporized to a pile of dust.” She linked her fingers through his, tracing small circles on the back of his hands with her thumbs, feeling the tension in his body even there. “Raiven, there is nothing I want more in this life or the next than to be with you. The six systems is a very big place. You yourself have said Mur’dek seldom ventures his forces into Darzian space.” She brought one of his hands to her lips. “Going there is the right decision. Yes, it is time for us to stop running,” she said against the warmth of his skin. “And we can do that on one of the moons of Darzia.” She kissed his palm, letting the tip of her tongue linger on his flesh for a soft moment. Flicking her eyes up to Raiven’s, she saw what she hoped would be there -passion rather than anger. She traced a small heart-shape with her tongue and took a step closer to him, letting her pussy rub over the rigid line of his cock. A very low groan slipped past his lips. “You’re playing me, Kyra Issarei.” Yes, she thought, but I’m also keeping you alive. “Then let me play with you some more,” she said, pushing her hips harder against his. Another groan escaped him, this one raw with a hunger she knew he couldn’t deny. “Kyra,” he protested. She could feel him struggling with his control. “We need to…” She stepped back, looking at him through half-lowered lids. “We need to have a shower.” She reached for the zipper of her suit. “All this talk of Nalyx and Mur’dek has made me feel dirty.” She activated the release button and her breasts spilled free. “When you’re ready I’ll be waiting.” She touched her nipples as she turned to leave. “Oh, and don’t forget the soap.”

*** He crossed the small room, stripping as he went. Boots, jacket, vest, trousers. Naked, he paused at the hydro-cubicle door, hanging his holster on the conveniently

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located hook. He’d been caught once before without his gun. It wasn’t happening again. No matter where he was. He paused for a moment, his cock aching for release. Kyra had very skilfully halted their discussion of Mur’dek, but it wasn’t over. After he’d brought her to a screaming orgasm once or twice -- okay, maybe three or four times -- he was getting their situation sorted once and for all. For the last three months he’d done what was necessary to keep them both out of the warlord’s clutches, but running wasn’t in his nature and Kyra was still in danger. Not just from the Murukhan piece of shit, but from any psycho she used as a means of escape. It was time to end it. He opened the screen, steam swirling and billowing from the shower cubicle as he stepped in. Kyra gazed up at him, streams of water running over her firm, toned body, coursing down her pert breasts and dripping off her rosy nipples. “Hello, lover.” He slid his hands around her hips and yanked her against him. “Need someone to scrub your back?” Wordlessly, she wriggled against him, giving Raiven the distinct impression it wasn’t her back she wanted attending. Her mons rubbed over his straining cock, the warm water of the shower trickling down her torso and pooling where their bodies met. He curled his fingers into her ass cheeks and pulled her harder against his crotch, the electrifying contact like a brand on his skin. “Back scrub later, then?” He chuckled, dipping his head. With a single brush of her lips, his blood sizzled. Tangling a finger into the heavy strands of her wet hair, he deepened the kiss, tasting her breath. She nipped at his tongue before moving to his jaw, his neck. When her hands found his balls, his pulse lunged into frenzied life. She cupped the heavy sacs, squeezing gently. One fingertip slid up to his tight ass, dragging a short nail over the puckered hole in such a way that Raiven thought he would shoot his load there and then. “Damn it, woman.” He moaned, low and ragged. “How do you know just what I want?”

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She leant back a little, black eyes dancing with that devilish humour he loved so much. “Not telling.” He chuckled, the movement of his body and her delicate but firm grip on his testicles causing short stabs of pleasurable pain to shoot up his spine into the base of his skull. He arched one eyebrow. “What if I make you?” The aching burn of his cock demanded attention. Kyra raised her own eyebrows in return and gave his balls another soft squeeze. “Try it.” Raiven sucked in a sharp breath, fingers fisting in her hair. She moaned, a provocative sound of approval. His mouth found her shoulder and he licked at the water trickling there, following its path across her collarbone and down to the most perfect breasts in the six systems. Soft and warm, they strained for his attention. He drew one pinched nipple past his teeth, flicking at the peaked nub of flesh with his tongue. Kyra’s hands mirrored his rhythm, fingers opening and closing on his balls in perfect harmony. A groan -- low and almost inaudible -- rumbled in his throat and he suckled harder on her tight nipple, thrusting his cock against her slick pelvic bone until his head became giddy. “Raiven.” Her voice was husky. He knew what she wanted. With a rough shove, he turned her around, pressing his aching cock against the firm curve of her ass. It slid in between the damp crevice, the warm water from the shower slicking their skin. The contact was exquisite, his breath catching when Kyra rolled her hips in a slow circle. A pulse hammering in his ears, he skimmed eager hands down her neck, over her shoulders to her breasts, cupping the swell of flesh before following the faint line that travelled down between her ribs to her navel. They stayed on her belly for a still moment, fingers splayed wide. “You sure you don’t want to tell me?” He grinned, gazing down into her upturned face.

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Kyra’s lips twitched. “Tease.” “Absolutely.” “Stop it.” He chuckled. “Make me.” “With pleasure,” she whispered, moving her hips slightly so the tips of his fingers brushed over the smooth, bare curve of her mons. So that the head of his cock pressed harder against her sphincter. “Yours and mine.” It was too much for Raiven. He plunged his fingers into her cunt, seeking and finding her moist heat. She arched, his name bursting from her lips as he dragged his thumb over her clit. He watched her, loving the way she responded to his touch. Steam billowed around them, adding to the moisture already on their limbs. With one hand, he reached above his head, disengaged the showerhead from its bracket and pulled it down. “Jet,” he said in a raised voice. On his command, water surged in a concentrated burst from the small nozzle. The showerhead and long, retractable hose vibrated gently in Raiven’s hand from its forceful pressure. Withdrawing slightly from Kyra’s clenching cunt, he spread the lips of her sex until her swollen clit was revealed. “Ready?” he whispered against her temple. For an answer, she reached down, slid one hand between their bodies and spread the cheeks of her ass further apart. Giving him greater access. Water still trickled down her skin. Her ass was damp. Slippery. Ready. He pressed his cock slowly -- but firmly -- against her hole. And, as he slipped into that tight, clenching orifice, he brought the pulsating showerhead against her exposed clit. “Oh, gods of Kaius!” she cried. He pumped deeper into her ass, slow at first, then with faster, longer strokes. Her muscles contracted around his throbbing cock in painful bliss. She was tight. So fucking tight. God, this is good.

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Slipping two fingers into her cunt, he probed and delved into that creamy channel as warm water blasted at her clit like soft repetitive strikes of a hammer. Her cunt and ass sucked at his fingers, his cock. She moaned, grinding her hips against both. “Harder, Raiven!” she demanded. “Fuck me harder.” He did as she wanted, blood sizzling as he thrust higher up her anus. His throbbing balls slapped against the cheeks of her ass. God, he felt like he was going to explode. He sucked in a sharp breath, struggling for control. The steamy air smelt of their sex. It fed his passion. His hunger. “Gods, don’t stop!” Kyra begged, pinching her nipples in synchronised rhythm with Raiven’s plunging fingers and thrusting cock. The sight was too much. He’d held off as long as he could, but the vision of Kyra’s hands on her own body sent him plummeting over the edge. His balls drew up, and in spurts so forceful his body shuddered, cum erupted from his cock and pumped into Kyra’s ass. Her hands whipped behind her head to snare fistfuls of his hair. “I’m coming! I’m --” Klaxon alarms suddenly screeched into life. “Proximity alert. Proximity alert. Incoming vessel. Incoming vessel.” Raiven froze. Shit! “Enemy weapon systems alert. Enemy weapon systems alert.” Shit! Blood turning to ice, he dived from the hydro-cubicle. With a quick look at Kyra, he snatched up his gun and holster and ran like hell for the cockpit. Kyra kept pace with him the entire way.

*** The Raptor shook as an ion blast deflected off its shields. Kyra’s grip on her gun tightened. Ten seconds ago she was having one of the most intense orgasms of her life. Now she sprinted through her lover’s ship, still wet, still horny. Still naked.

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When I get my hands on the grutt-fucker flying that other ship, I’ll fucking tear his balls -She stumbled. A little. Nalyx? Gods, that psycho Lunarian’s id was still running about in her head. Just what she needed. Another blast sent the Raptor reeling, great shudders rocking the ship. She shot Raiven a quick look. She’d never seen him look so pissed off. Or deadly. Despite being wet and naked, the lethal air that made him so feared hung about him even now. Whoever was firing on his ship was about to end their day in a very bad way. Alarm sirens and alert messages screamed at them as they arrived in the cockpit, the sound leaving no doubt about their immediate predicament. A flash of blinding white just to starboard rocked the ship as she and Raiven leapt into their seats. “Shield integrity alert. Shield integrity alert.” Raiven spat out a curse. “I’m getting real sick of that.” He grabbed the controls, throwing her an evil grin. “Buckle up, lover. This is going to get nasty.” Pushing the flight yoke fully forward, he sent the Raptor nose first into an almost suicidal spiral. The stars streaked by in a blur of spinning light. Kyra’s back slammed against her seat. She gripped her gun, staring straight ahead as her stomach pressed against her spine. “Shoot at my ship, will you?” she heard Raiven snarl as he flung the Raptor into a sharp turn. Blasts of ion energy burst to port, rocking the ship. But only slightly. Whoever was out there was having trouble keeping up. “Check the sensors.” Raiven’s voice was terse as he punched a complicated sequence into the flight computer. Kyra did so, struggling to hold herself upright when the ship keeled in another savage twist. The sensors spat out a string of data and Kyra’s already churning stomach turned. She shot Raiven a quick look. “Ferrellian Raiders. Two of them.” A sudden lump filled her throat. The sex-slavers of Ferrellian Ten were tenacious. When they had their prey in sight they didn’t give up. Ever.

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The muscles in Raiven’s back and shoulders bunched as he sent the Raptor into a horizontal spin, dodging another burst of ion fire. Kyra glanced at the dangerously close white flash. Their pursuers were gaining on them. “Fuck this!” Raiven growled, yanking back on the controls. The Raptor responded instantly, soaring straight upward. For a dizzying moment the ship seemed to punch through space. Holy fuck! a voice in her head screeched. Kyra grinned. It seemed the ghost of the psychotic Lunarian’s id was not having a good time. Before her grin could become a humourless chuckle, however, the Raptor shifted aft and dropped away. Fast. “Hold on,” Raiven ordered, sending the ship into a tight inverted loop directly across the bow of the closest Ferrellian Raider. For the briefest of moments -- a mere heartbeat -- Kyra saw the harsh, jagged lines of the second Ferrellian vessel from an angle she’d never dreamt possible, and then the Raptor was the right way up, holding a tight arc over the Raiders’ stern. A volley of ion blasts followed them. Close. Closer. With a jarring jolt, a white explosion filled the space to the Raptor’s port. The Ferrellians had hit their other ship. “Shit!” Raiven spat, just as the shockwave smashed against the Raptor’s hull. The ship spiralled out of control. Kyra’s nails sank into the arms of her seat, her gun flying from her lap and sliding across the cockpit floor as they were thrown into a hideous roll. Alarms screeched everywhere. For a sickening second, she got a glimpse of the two Raiders, one spewing flames and smoke as they closed in. Then, all she could see was the blackness of space and the blur of stars. A single blast of ion cannon fire exploded in front of them. “Shield integrity alert. Shield integrity alert.”

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“I know! I know!” Raiven snarled. Knuckles white, body drenched in sweat, he wrenched the controls to the left, banking the Raptor into a shallow turn, fighting against the momentum of their out-of-control spin. There was another glimpse of the wounded Ferrellian vessel -- further away and listing severely -- before Raiven, with a shout of furious triumph, forced his ship back under control. “We’re out of here, babe,” he said, punching in the sequence for hyperflight. “Let’s g --” A violent blast, like a sun exploding, struck the Raptor.

“Hyper-drive off-line.”

“Gods, Raiven,” Kyra gasped, staring at the sensor readout. “Another Raider has

materialised. It’s right on top --” “Rrraiven a’Tor,” a reedy voice hissed from the com speaker, rife with the distinctive Ferrellian drawl. “Prepare to be boarded. Rrresistance will rrresult in --” Raiven flicked off the com switch. He threw Kyra a tight grin. “Ready for a fight?” “Always wanted to kick some Ferrellian ass.” She grinned. “Especially bucknaked.” His eyes turned serious. “You know I lo --” The control deck exploded, flinging Raiven backward from his flight chair. “Raiven!” Kyra screamed. The Raptor took a lurching spin, tumbling her to the floor. She scrambled across the cockpit floor, reaching Raiven where he lay in a bleeding heap. Motionless. “Warning shield failure. Warning shield failure.” Kyra looked up. Just in time to see four heavily armed, heavily armoured Ferrellians energize into the Raptor’s cockpit. Silver, slitted eyes locked on her as four deadly Pacifiers levelled at her chest. Oh, gods. Her stomach sank. No.

Chapter 3 Her tongue licked a slow line up the inside of his tense thigh, stopping just shy of his swollen balls. “God damn it, Kyra,” he ground out, staring at the gilded ceiling. Pinioned to the bed, he pulled against the shackles circling his wrists and ankles. The steel cut into his flesh, adding to the exquisite torture she was subjecting him to. “You’re making me crazy.” Her full, wet lips hovered just below his left nut. “Say you want me.” Raiven clenched his teeth. Her warm breath feathered the hairs on his thigh and balls, sending bolts of tension straight to his cock. “You know I --” Her tongue curled around its thick base. “Say it!” she commanded against his sweaty flesh. “Say you’re mine.” Liquid heat scorched through his veins as she sucked one of his balls into the dampness of her mouth. He rammed his head back into the soft mattress, consumed by waves of heat as her fingers slid up between his thighs, pressing against his tight ass. “I want you. I’m yours,” he ground out. “Only yours.” Her mouth left his aching, sensitive glands and she blew gently on his damp flesh, chuckling softly as his testicles bunched higher. “Of course you are,” she purred. “Mine. All mine.” Wet lips played over the head of his cock, nibbling at the throbbing tip. Her fingers drew slow lines over his sphincter, taunting him with an ecstasy he craved. His eyes closed. “Kyra.” His moan was raw. “I love you.” Her fingers stilled. He felt her body tense. But before he could raise his head to see what was wrong, a wet tongue ran up over his stomach and she closed her lips around one rock-hard nipple.

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He pulled in a long breath. The feel of her mouth on that sensitive nub of flesh immediately burned away the split second hesitation from his lust-fogged mind. Sure fingers scored lines of painful pleasure from his balls up to his chest. Nails that were neither short nor long pinched at his free nipple, twisting and squeezing in rhythmic harmony. Unable to control himself, he arched his body, throwing his head back against the mattress again, pulling at the shackles on his wrists and ankles as a hoarse cry ripped from his throat. “Tell me you worship me,” Kyra whispered against his chest, squeezing his nipples hard. “God damn it, woman…” Deliberately slow, she raised up onto her knees, midnight-black eyes boring into his. Her cunt hovered above his straining cock, barely brushing the swollen head. Creamy fluid glistened on the folds of her pussy, on the insides of her firm thighs. Raiven groaned and pulled at his bonds again. He was going out of his mind. “Say it,” she commanded, spreading her legs a little, enough to bring her dripping cunt closer to his cock. “Please,” he begged, thrusting his hips off the bed. Desperate to sink his cock deep into her damp heat. “Kyra, please…” The slick lips of her cunt closed around the swollen tip of his cock. Just. And then withdrew. “Say it!” His blood boiled. His flesh burnt. He gazed at her, breath ragged from her exquisite torture. “I worship you.” A satisfied grin curled her lips and a triumphant glint flickered in her eyes. “Good,” she purred. “That’s the way it should be.” Then she impaled herself on his rigid, aching shaft. Raiven slammed his head back, shards of concentrated pleasure ripping through his body. “Holy fucking Christ!” he cried. “No, a’Tor,” a deep male voice rumbled. “You’re wrong.” Raiven’s eyes flung open.

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Standing naked behind Kyra, engorged cock pressing against his gut, was the very man whose psyche tormented her mind and body. The Lunarian merchant from The Tight Hole. Nalyx. “Your feeble Terran god has no strength here,” he smirked as his hands took possession of Kyra’s breasts. “Now you are in the presence of true power.”

*** Shit. Kyra looked around the tiny cell, rubbing at her bare arms to keep warm. Muted lights cast the small room in reaching shadows, hiding the control harness suspended from the ceiling. As yet, the Ferrellian slave-master had not ordered her bound within it. But it wouldn’t be long. The room was, after all, a slave-breaking cell. For almost two days she’d been kept here, naked except for the damn collar one of the slavers locked around her neck back on the Raptor, a wide band of icy steel that seemed to constrict every time she moved. She saw no one but the slave-master, a creature of obvious intelligence who said nothing and never touched her. It was against everything she knew of Ferrellian slavers, from experience and the memories of the women she’d liberated from them. A female -- or male, for that matter -- was fucked within a breath of death immediately after enslavement. The Ferrellians called it the “taste-test,” a long, and for them, pleasurable way of knowing what their new slave was capable of surviving. For whatever reason, Kyra had been spared that hideous initiation. So far. Instead, she’d been kept in isolation in a locked cell. She rubbed at her arms again. If only she could get her hands on one of the slavers. All she needed was a few precious moments to shift and she’d be away. A frown creased her forehead and she pulled her hands through her spiky hair in angry frustration. A sharp pain in her chest made her wince. Within a second of the slavers boarding the Raptor, she’d been shot with a Ferrellian Pacifier. But that wasn’t the cause of her grief. She had no idea what had happened to Raiven. Or if he was even alive.

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“Don’t think about it,” she muttered. “Focus on getting out of here. You’re no good to him locked in a slave-cell.” There was a sudden hum and the door slid open, harsh light filling the tiny room as the ship’s slave-master stepped into her cell. Kyra tensed. The Ferrellian’s silver eyes studied her. Cold, calculating. A small smile twitched at the corners of his lipless mouth. “Welcome aboard the Succulent Virgin, Chamelyon. I am Sylt. I’m so pleased you could join us.” Kyra didn’t hold back a sarcastic smile. “The pleasure is all mine, slave-master.” “Then you have no doubts of your fate? You know in whose hands your life now belongs?” He nodded slightly and his mouth twitched some more. “That is good. It always aggrieves me to see a new… ‘guest’ shall we say?… confronted with the harsh rrreality of their future. Much better when there are no explanations to be made.” Tiny scales flushed from mottled grey to black over Sylt’s serpentine frame. He took another step into her cell, making no sound as he moved. “Your rrrace is so hard to find these days,” he continued, for all the worlds sounding like he was having a chat with an old friend. “Chamelyo being located in such a rrremote area of the six systems. Such an insular people. So private and shy.” His eyes flicked over her. “And yet, so lovely to behold. I would be a very wealthy man if I had more of your rrrace in my stable.” Kyra’s blood ran hot. Centuries ago her people sold “rebellious” shape-shifters to the Ferrellian Ten slavers, their unique abilities making them almost priceless. Chamelyo had become quite wealthy on the back of such commerce. When the last known shape-shifter was killed, the planet was forced to seek other forms of trade. Selling their own “normal” females was not one of them. A lifetime of anger and hatred swelled through her. At her own people and the scum before her now. As if sensing her fury, the Ferrellian chuckled softly. “You want to kill me, don’t you, Chamelyon.” An expression of infinite sorrow crossed his seamless face and the

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tiny scales covering his body shimmered to a deep, deep blue. “It is unfortunate. Our rrrelationship sours before it truly begins.” “Somehow, I don’t think we were ever going to be best friends,” Kyra replied, narrowing her eyes as the slave-master took another step closer. “Perhaps you are rrright.” A sad nod followed a drawn-out sigh. “Perhaps we were only ever meant to be slave and master. Oh well, what is to be, will be.” His scales turned bright vermilion, and before Kyra could move, he leapt across the distance left between them, knocking her to the floor and sinking long, hooked claws into her shoulders. Silver eyes bored down into hers and his mouth twitched again. “Your training begins now, Chamelyon. Do not disappoint me.” Kyra met his steely gaze, her heartbeat hammering. Here was her chance. “I won’t,” she growled. “Trust me.” In a flash, she wrapped her hands around his forearms, his muscles like ropes of steel under her palms. She had exactly two seconds before he’d feel the effect of the aberrant shift, and it was going to hurt like hell. For both of them. But she didn’t have time to wait for fingers-to-scalp connection. Who knew when he would give her that chance, if ever? The aberrant shift would have to come from the only contact she could make -- his arms. She hoped her cell was soundproof. There was going to be lots of screaming. A rush of liquid heat rippled through her veins, radiating out from her hands. She dug her nails harder into his arms, the scales like little plates of silken metal under her fingertips. She clenched her jaw, waiting for the inevitable onslaught of excruciating agony. Nothing. A low chuckle filled the cell. “Not what you were expecting?” Sylt smirked. Kyra stared into his face, confused. Why hadn’t it worked? What had --? Her blood chilled. She reached for the collar locked around her neck, praying to the gods her suspicions were wrong. A low vibration ran down into her arms as her

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fingertips brushed its icy metal surface. Sick realisation smashed into her. Oh, gods. No! A prohibita-collar! A gleam of malicious satisfaction lit the Ferrellian’s eyes. “That’s rrright, slave. I know exactly what you are.” He paused, his twitching mouth curling into a cold smile. “Shape-shifter.”

*** Raiven stared hard at the Lunarian, fury ripping through his blood. “Get your fucking hands off my --” A throaty chuckle cut him short. “Now, now, Raiven,” Kyra laughed, rolling her hips, tight pussy clenching his cock like a damp vise. “Don’t be like that to our guest. I did invite him here, after all.” Raiven turned his stare to her. “Kyra, what the hell is going on?” The woman’s full lips curled into a cold smile, the likes of which Raiven had never seen on his lover’s face before. “Oh, come now, a’Tor,” she purred, scratching a nail around the edge of his tattoo as the hulking Lunarian fondled her breasts. Her voice dropped an octave. Became deeper. Harsher. She sounded nothing like Kyra anymore. Now, she sounded like someone he knew all too well. Someone devious and cruel and… “Surely you haven’t forgotten me so soon. Not after everything I’ve done for you.” No. It can’t be. He stared up at the woman still impaled on his cock, the woman who looked just like Kyra. A wave of nauseous heat crashed through his head, and as he watched, the air around her seemed to shimmer, twist. Stomach lurching, he blinked. Suddenly it wasn’t his life-mate who straddled his hips, but a woman he’d hoped never to see again. A woman he’d last seen in the Temple of Calis on Ytze. The Princess of the Five Moons’ jilted lover. “Cy!” “Hello, a’Tor.” The Lunarian High Priestess smiled. “Welcome back. It’s been too long.”

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Fury erupted through him. He yanked on the shackles cutting into his wrists and ankles. “What have you done to Kyra? What the fuck is --?” The Lunarian merchant’s hand smashed against Raiven’s face before he finished the sentence. “You will not use such language in the presence of the Revered One.” Raiven turned his head to the naked zealot. Without breaking eye contact, he spat out a wad of bright red blood. “You’re going to regret that,” he promised. Nalyx laughed, the sound cold, unhinged. “Regret is for the weak, a’Tor. There is nothing weak about me.” Raiven gave him a very small smile. “That’s not what Kyra told me.” “Why you --” Nalyx lunged. “Enough!” Cy snapped. The cunt gripping Raiven’s cock constricted. Painfully. His eyes flung to the High Priestess and for a split second, his heart stopped. Holy shit! Enveloping Cy’s lush, naked body like a writhing transparent second skin was a hideous dark form. Raiven’s eyes hurt and his stomach heaved. Like a living shadow, the form oozed over the High Priestess’s frame, its gaping maw seeming to scream a silent snarl that turned Cy’s already cruel face into a hideous mask of perverted horror. Twin pinpricks of glowing heat turned to Raiven. Whatever it was, it was looking at him. Seeing him. Boring into his soul. His lungs blistered as the very air in the room suddenly turned hotter than Hades. And then the shadow was gone. Just like that. The High Priestess gazed back at him. Only the High Priestess. Her cunt a steel trap clamped around his shrinking cock. Keeping it imprisoned in her sodden slit. “See something you didn’t like, a’Tor?” “What the hell is going on?” he growled. “Where’s Kyra? If you’ve hurt her I swear your gods won’t be able to save you.”

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Cy’s face grew still, her eyes cold. “You took my lover away from me, a’Tor. You and that shape-shifting cunt. You took Xia away and her father married her off to that no-balls wimp, Pax.” Beside the bed, Nalyx gazed at her with rapt adoration, his balls heavy and red. “You took my life away from me,” Cy went on, “so now I’m taking your life from you.” “You want me dead?” Raiven raised an eyebrow. “Get in line.” Her lips curled. “I don’t want you dead.” She leant toward him, large round nipples brushing against his chest as she dug one sharp fingernail deep into his chin. “I know everything about you, Raiven a’Tor, Last of the Terrans. I know what makes you live and breathe.” “You know nothing about me.” Cy laughed. “Raiven, Raiven, Raiven. All those nights you spent fucking Xia you didn’t think I knew your heart belonged to someone else? That you were bound forever -- body, mind and soul -- to a single pathetic female? That you imagined my beautiful Xia a skinny-assed, black-eyed Chamelyon every time you touched her? That the cum you so readily pumped into my lover’s precious cunt was meant for someone else?” Raiven glared at her and she smirked. “I know all about the Darzian blood flowing through your veins, a’Tor.” She dropped her head lower. “You’re a very good lover. There are songs sung throughout the six systems by longing, lonely virgins about your sexual prowess. I can’t let that talent be wasted on a gutless shape-shifting whore. Not when my needs have been so rudely neglected for so long. Left untended.” Her mouth crushed his, brutal and punishing. He tore his head away, breaking the kiss with a hateful stare. “Don’t.” “You weren’t saying that only moments ago, a’Tor.” Cy chuckled. “When you thought I was your shape-shifting bitch.” She laughed again, the sound cruel, and this time Nalyx joined in, loud and maniacal. “What do you want?” Raiven ground out. “You. As my worshipping pet.”

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“Go to hell.” “Oh, I’ve already been there, a’Tor. Ithis was quite understanding of my pleas. He gave me exactly what I asked for.” Raiven clenched his fists, the shackles cutting into his flesh. “And what was that, Cy?” “You.” Heart thumping, Raiven narrowed his eyes. Cy was the High Priestess of Calis, the Lunarian Goddess of Purity and Hope’s most supreme servant. Raiven, however, knew Cy well. Her religious favour had never been for the benevolent goddess. Her tastes had been less… wholesome. He’d always believed she’d secretly worshiped Takis, the Lunarian God of Lust, but at the mention of Ithis… His throat tightened. God, where was Kyra? “Don’t get used to me being here,” he said. “I’m not planning on staying.” “And I’m not planning on letting you go.” “Then be prepared to meet Ithis again,” he said. “Because the next time you touch me will be the last time you touch anything.” He fixed his stare on her. “I don’t need my gun to kill you, Cy, and I have no problems with answering to any god. Yours or mine.” The laugh that vibrated up through the priestess’s chest was rife with humour. “By the Five Moons, a’Tor, I’m going to enjoy every minute I spend with you.” She traced the line of his jaw with a pointed fingernail. “With just one thought I can make you believe anything I want. I can make you do anything I want.” She dragged her nail up to his lips. “I mean, really, who exactly did you think you were fucking just moments ago? Kyra Issarei, wasn’t it?” Raiven stared up at her. The air became blistering hot and for a frozen moment, Kyra was there, straddling his hips. Smiling at him. Kyra! Then he blinked, and it was Cy again.

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“You see, a’Tor? You see the power I have over you? The beauty of it is this; until I tire of you, you’re mine. I’m going to fuck you any time I want. Nalyx is going to fuck you any time he wants and you’re going to want it all. You’re going to beg for it.” Her cunt constricted on his trapped cock. “But deep in your soul you’re going to know it’s not Kyra Issarei your cock is sinking into. Deep in your heart, where your Darzian blood rules, you’re going to know every moment of bliss is really a moment of torture.” Cy’s fingers scored a painful line to his chin, her eyes blazing with triumph. “A life gained for a life lost. Renewal and rebirth.” Raiven stared up at the High Priestess, fury and dread roaring in his ears. “Where is Kyra?” he demanded. “Where does she fit into this pathetic scheme of yours?” Cy snorted, casting Nalyx a smug look. “You see, Nalyx? The feared Raiven a’Tor, reduced to a slave of his blood.” She turned back to Raiven. “Tell me, a’Tor,” she said, gazing into his eyes. “How do you feel knowing your life is forever bound to a woman now in the hands of the Ferrellian sex-slavers. A woman being prepared for her life as Lord Mur’dek’s concubine?”

*** Mur’dek looked out at the stars. “So what you’re telling me, Corporal Kuj, is that you don’t know where Kyra Issarei is?” Corporal Kuj swallowed. “Ye… No… I mean… Yes… my Lord.” Suppressing a sigh, Mur’dek tightened his grip on his favourite whip. “Yes, what, Corporal?” He watched the terrified expression on his soldier’s face in the reflection of the viewing porthole. Bitter anger coated his mouth. Again? She’d got away again? “Yes, the shape-shifter’s current whereabouts are…” There was a brief pause as Kuj swallowed. “…unknown.” “But the bounty hunter? Raiven a’Tor…?” “…is with the Lunarian High Priestess on Ytze.” “And we’ve received no communication from her?”

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“N… no, my Lord.” Mur’dek dropped his head, staring for a moment at the floor. It seemed Cy had broken their deal. His knuckles popped as he gripped his whip harder. He wasn’t happy. He should have suspected the Lunarian cunt would service her own needs first. He looked back up, making eye contact with Kuj in the porthole. The corporal snapped to attention, petrified resignation swimming in his yellow eyes. “My Lord?” “Set coordinates for Ytze. I think it’s time we paid the priestess a visit.”

Chapter 4 The floor was cold under her feet, the artificial air of the Succulent Virgin chilling her fevered flesh. Kyra tracked the Ferrellian as he approached her, wary and hesitant, his scales flashing a vibrant yellow. Yeah, you should be thinking twice. In her short time aboard Sylt’s ship, she’d killed two of his slavers. One with a broken neck, snapped by a quick flick of her hips as he sought out her clit with his tongue, the other strangled by the very chain attached to the prohibita-collar around her neck. Sylt was furious. His plan of breaking her hadn’t included dealing with the psychotic residue of Nalyx. It made Kyra sick to have the Lunarian’s psyche still ghosting her, but he was coming in handy at the moment. No matter what the Ferrellian did to her, Nalyx had meted out something far more hideous and deranged. Retreating into his madness had become Kyra’s protection from the insanity of her situation. The approaching slaver snarled at her, his apprehension barely masked by his hate. It was his job to remove her from the cell and take her to the pit. Today she was to be punished for her resistance. Suffice to say, she didn’t like that idea at all. “Do you really want to die today?” she asked, almost conversationally. The slaver faltered, scales blending from yellow to piss-yellow to grey. No. I didn’t think so. “That is enough!” A smooth voice rose above the low drone of the ship’s engines bouncing around her cell. “Stand down, Eesat.” Kyra let out a silent curse. Sylt. Damn it.

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The slave-master had been nowhere near her since their last meeting. If Kyra had nothing else to be thankful for while aboard the Succulent Virgin, it was for that. He was cruel and unrelenting. Every time his hands touched her flesh she’d recoiled, sinking deep into her sub-conscious while the ghost of Nalyx roared in fury at the perversion upon her body. So far, Sylt had been the only Ferrellian to survive a “session” with her. She didn’t think that would be the case after today. The slave-master entered her cell, crossing the short distance to where -- save for the cursed collar around her neck -- she stood naked. Silver eyes travelled over her, that cruel, lipless mouth of his twitching. “You are proving to be more entertaining than I first expected, shape-shifter. And more troublesome.” She gave him a cheesy grin. “And you thought I was shy.” “No, I thought you were smart.” In a blur, his hand lashed out, snatching the chain hanging from her collar and yanking her forward. She stumbled, landing on her knees at his feet. The sharp pain barely registered in her brain before Sylt shoved her chest and she fell backward, the slave-master following her momentum with frightening grace. Bony ass planted firmly on her chest, he straddled her, thighs pressing on either side of her head. “But you’re not smart,” he continued, his silver stare like a burning drill. “Smart would have endured the inevitable. Smart would have embraced the unavoidable.” Sinewy muscles shifted and he slid his legs down her body until their hips aligned, plated armour slicing at her naked flesh. Kyra glared at him, unable to move. “Smart,” Sylt noted, curling talon-like claws into her exposed arms, “would know when to beg for mercy.” “Well, I guess neither of us is very smart then,” she growled. “Because ‘smart’ also knows when to shut up.” Sylt chuckled. “Oh, I do love your spirit, Kyra Issarei. As always, I look forward to this lesson.” She tensed, preparing for the assault.

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But there was none. Instead, with that same frighteningly liquid grace, Sylt rose to his feet. With a slight nod of his head, two new Ferrellians appeared in the cell doorway, a chained slave between them. Bound and naked. In a red so deep it almost appeared black, a complicated tattoo wound its way up one of the slave’s muscled arms, across his very impressive chest and down the other arm. The ink seemed alive on his pearlescent pale skin, highlighting the smooth perfection of his torso. Kyra traced the lines with her eyes. The tattoo, in the archaic but visually beautiful Lappian script, spoke of a mighty warrior whose people were slaughtered by an evil warlord. A warrior of the Ri Order, whose sister had been taken by that warlord as his bride, never to be seen again. Kyra’s eyes widened and her breath caught. Gods of Kaius! It’s Drean! Memories flooded at her. A childhood she’d never had, a battle she’d never fought, a continuous rape she’d endured only through psyche-transfer. She stared up at the chained Lappian standing between the two slavers. Drean Et. The sole prince of Lappia, once charged with the protection of his sister, the future queen. Now a slave on a Ferrellian vessel? Pain filled Kyra. How had this come to be? His broad shoulders slumped forward, despair emanating from him in waves. The once proud head bowed low, silver-white hair falling over his face like a concealing curtain. She didn’t need to see his face, however, to know his eyes were the colour of Jyian mist. She didn’t need to see his face, because she already had. “I believe you know Drean Et,” Sylt said, a gleam of immense satisfaction in his eyes. “Or at least, one of your past ‘clients’ did.” His mouth twitched. “Trista, wasn’t it? A young woman barely more than a child?” He turned and gave the chained warrior a knowing look. “Your sister, yes?” For a moment, the Lappian didn’t move. Then, as if his very muscles were carved from steel, he raised his head and stared hard. At Kyra. Her heart stopped. Hate burned in those pale-green eyes. Hate, loathing… and death.

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“Crown Prince Drean Et of Lappia.” Sylt addressed the silent slave. “This is Kyra Issarei. The female rrresponsible for your sister’s death.” Like a giant waking from a deep slumber, the Lappian straightened, his imposing bulk filling the doorway and almost dwarfing the Ferrellians holding his chains. Sylt chuckled again. “Chain them together,” he said to the hovering Eesat. “Then give them both a shot of Ambros. I want to see what happens when a shape-shifter’s acquired memories conflict with her base sexual lust.” He turned back to Kyra, mouth twitching at the fury on her face. “You see, Kyra, there are many lessons to be learnt in the life of a slave, but the most important is this: even your mind belongs to your master.”

*** Drean’s long fingers curled around the stem of the flower, pale green eyes sparkling with mirth. “It’s okay, fei’lia. You can take it.” She looked back at him, feeling her heart shudder. “Don’t call me that,” she grumbled. “You know I don’t like it.” Her brother’s mouth stretched into a wide smile. The late Lappian moon cast a pale light that played with the white strands of his hair, making him look like an angel from an ancient Terran fairytale. “Fei’lia?” He laughed softly. “Little one? But you are my little one.” He held the flower out again, its delicate petals dotted with tiny drops of dew. “My stubborn, annoying little one.” Chin jutting, she planted her fists on her hips. “Well, one day soon I will be Fei’Japei, and you will have to do what I say.” Drean’s smile turned into a grin that lit up his whole face. “Yes, one day soon you will be Little Queen, and the whole of Lappia will have to do what you say.” His grin turned mischievous. “But that doesn’t mean I will.” “But it is law!” she cried, stamping her foot. “The queen has the last word.” Her bottom lip began to quiver and she felt her body tremble with hurt frustration. Drean

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was her only blood kin. She loved him with every fiber of her being but he did upset her so. “Besides, you’re my brother, my ja’kurr. You’re meant to look after me.” “Oh, fei’lia.” He leant forward, tucking the flower behind her ear and brushing a strand of hair from her forehead. “I will always look after you, whether you are queen or just my little sister.” He kissed her forehead, lips warm on her cool flesh. “I will die before something happens to you, Trista. Know that. My life for yours.” His arms folded around her slim body and he held her tight, as if she were the most precious thing in his world. A warmth fluttered to life in her belly. She loved her brother. He was…

*** …rock hard. His cock was rock hard. Kyra blinked. The memory -- Trista’s memory -- had flooded through her, unabated and forceful. Thrusting her completely from the Ferrellian slave ship into Trista’s childhood. She looked around, body churning with emotions so raw and conflicting she felt she was going mad. What had yanked her back so savagely? Gods of Kaius, how did I even get here? Jeering Ferrellians and silent chained slaves surrounded the mirrored-wall pit. All deemed worthy to view the spectacle unfurling in the sunken “training” hole. Sylt stood off to the side, silver eyes glowing with a coldly triumphant light, scales a deep, deep violet. Kyra bared her teeth. I’m going to make you regret this, Sylt. A painful tug on her neck jerked her glare from the Ferrellian slave-master to the man on the other end of her chain. Drean stared at her. His silent, imposing frame reflected over and over again in the mirrored panels surrounding them. Everywhere she looked, there he was. A shiver raced up her spine. The aphrodisiac pumped into them was potent. Very potent. Ambros was highly illegal and extremely dangerous. Slaves and users were known to die from its sideeffects; elevated heart rate, shortness of breath. Total sensory overload. Neither she nor

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the Lappian seemed in danger of dying at the moment, but Kyra had little doubt her life still hung in the balance. The Ambros in Drean’s veins made him want to fuck her. The hate in his heart made him want to kill her. I was trying to save your sister! she wanted to scream at him. I was trying to free her from Mur’dek! But when those ice-green eyes dipped to her body and travelled over her naked breasts, the words died in her throat. She felt his silent inspection on her flesh like a physical touch. Slow, defiant and intimate. His eyes roamed to her pussy and she felt it throb and flood with wet heat. It was the Ambros. She knew that. But she couldn’t help the gasp that slipped past her lips. Oh, Raiven, please… Please what? a voice in her head goaded. Please save you? Please understand? Please hand you the freon fuck-stick so you can -Drean took a step toward her, cutting off the insidious voice. Muscles that defied peace coiled under his pale flesh, flesh that shimmered with sweat. His hungry gaze left a path of want so desperate Kyra felt her thighs slick with her own juices. A wave of powerful lust rolled through her. She wanted to be fucked. She wanted long fingers to sink into her cunt and take her away from all the memories invading her soul. She wanted a tongue to rasp over her clit until there were no more voices in her head, until she was a creature of physical senses. Until she was but a mere shell to hold pleasure. If it couldn’t be Raiven that made her feel that way, then let it be the Lappian before her. Stop it! She curled her fists into painfully hard balls, nails digging into the flesh of her palms. For Trayza’s sake, it’s just the Ambros… She stared at Drean, willing him to look into her eyes. To turn his scorching gaze from her body. For her own sake and for her life with Raiven, she needed to control -Why fight it when you can enjoy it? that voice in her head piped up, soft and eager. Renewal is a beautiful thing. Seek out Blood, Breath. The Cavern of Sin shall be your rebirth… Kyra’s eyes widened. Nalyx! The cursed Lunarian! Get the fuck out of my --

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With brutal force, Drean threw her to the floor. A roar of approval shook the room, a hundred pairs of booted feet stamping a frenzied beat. Wrenching pleasure rippled over her flesh, spurred on by the aphrodisiac in her blood. Drean’s mouth latched onto her neck just above the edge of her steel collar in a brutal bite that sent fiery Ambros licking through her veins. Her nipples pinched into aching nubs of tight ecstasy. Her cunt grew hot. “Oh, Raiven!” she burst out, staring up at the raucous slavers without seeing them. She had to focus on the thought of her lover or she would be lost to the seductive pull of the aphrodisiac. And the dangerous allure of the silent Lappian. Drean’s hands burned a path over her ribcage, her hips and back up to her breasts. His mouth left her neck and found her ear, teeth sinking into the sensitive lobe with frenzied passion. Kyra gasped, the sound drowned out by the cheer of the watching Ferrellians and the groans rumbling low in Drean’s throat. His legs pushed between her thighs, spreading them wide. Making room for his body. She squirmed, dropping her head to the side to watch her lustrous reflection in the mirrored walls. Drean palmed her breasts, his fingers squeezing the mounds of flesh. The contact was far from gentle but Kyra’s pussy fluttered with wet heat at the cruel pressure, the Ambros feeding her senses even as her mind and heart wept at her response. The swollen head of his cock pressed against the sodden lips of her sex, and he released a slow, hot breath, a silent animal on the verge of conquest. Ribbons of tension twisted deep into the pit of her stomach. She closed her eyes, unable to stand the sight before her, letting an image of Raiven fill her head just as Drean’s rigid cock slipped into her cunt. Deafening cheers broke out above her. The beat of the stamping feet increased. Drean’s cock plunged into her clenching cunt as his fingers slid from her breasts to her neck. And curled around her throat. Kyra’s eyes snapped open.

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“You killed my fei’lia,” Drean growled, dead eyes fixed on hers. “So I’m going to kill you.” Kyra gave him a flat stare. “Give it your best shot.” With a violent thrust, she whip-lashed her body, bucking the Lappian off. She sprang to her feet, the chain connecting them -- from collar to collar -- smacking against her thighs as Drean lurched to an upright position. Chest heaving, the chiselled muscles rippled under his flesh as he stood. Kyra stared, her pulse singing. Gods, he’s gorgeous. And he was trying to kill her. Her eyes dropped to his massive cock, rigid and engorged with blood. Ah, but what a way to go, Nalyx’s voice crowed. Kyra narrowed her eyes. Fuck this. Grabbing the chain, she gave it a harsh flick, looping the slack over Drean’s head just as he charged her. She wrenched on it, hard. The abrupt tension on his neck sent him spinning and he fell to his knees with a harsh grunt. Another roar of approval broke out above them, heating the Ambros lust licking through her veins. Her pussy fluttered. She gave the leering Ferrellians a quick glance before turning her attention back to Drean. Planting the sole of her foot on his chest, she shoved him back to the floor. “I did not kill your sister,” she said, heart hammering. Drean stared into her face for a still moment before his gaze moved to her cunt. Fast -- almost as fast as Raiven -- his hands lashed out, whipping up her thighs and jerking her down. Her ass landed on his chest, her mons ramming against his chin with such force her teeth snapped shut. Before she had time to yelp, he curled his fingers into the crease of her hips and yanked her forward, his long tongue plunging between the lips of her pussy with savage hunger. The searing invasion sent pulses of wet pleasure through her. His hands pulled her harder against his frenzied mouth, tongue lashing at her clit and into her cunt like a fevered snake attacking its prey. Teeth nipped at the swelling bud of sensitive flesh, tugging on it until Kyra let out a whimper.

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The deafening roar from the watching slavers swallowed the sound, but Drean obviously felt it vibrate through her body down to where his tongue worked so wildly. His fingers tore a path from her hips to the inside of her thighs, forcing them even wider until his whole mouth covered her. His tongue delved into her depths, flicking, stabbing, growing rougher and more forceful with every violent penetration. Kyra’s moan fell from her lips. Unable to control herself or the urgent need building deep within her sex, she rammed her cunt harder, harder against his face, wanting -- no, needing -- to feel consumed. Drean complied, long Lappian tongue invading her pulsing channel. Raiven a’Tor never made you feel like this, did he? Kyra’s eyes snapped open. Nalyx! Guilt and fury ripped through her at the snide voice. Get the fuck out of my head! The Lunarian’s dark chuckle faded just as Drean bit down on her swollen clit. “Oh, gods!” The cry burst from her throat. “More! More!” The cheer from above reverberated through her in throbbing rhythm with the greedy tension building in her cunt. Oh, Raiven… He’s not here, Nalyx’s voice whispered. And you don’t mind at all. “No!” Kyra vaulted to her feet, Drean’s nails tearing at her flesh as she broke their intimate contact. Breath ragged, she staggered back as far as she could. The collar bit into her neck as the chain between them snapped tight. In a single move, Drean stood, eyes burning with lust and hate. The smooth muscles in his chest and shoulders bunched. With a sharp jerk, he pulled her off her feet. She hit the floor face down, the chilly surface scalding her hot flesh. Instantly, Drean straddled her, balls pressing against her ass, hands fisting in her hair. Excited fear erupted in her chest and her pussy flooded once again. More. I want more. Kyra froze. The silent demand in her head wasn’t her own voice. Or Nalyx. It was Xia’s.

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The blood drained from her face as she stared at her horrified reflection in the mirrored wall. The Princess of the Five Moons’ residue id should have faded completely from her psyche by now. It had been over two months. What the hell was going -Drean’s fists curled tighter, yanking her head back. “Here I come,” he growled, making eye contact with her in the mirror as his knees forced her legs apart and his cock slapped against her spreading ass cheeks. Yes! Xia screamed. Yes! roared Nalyx. For a frozen moment in time, surreal in its stillness, Kyra wondered exactly who she was. And then Drean’s steel-hard shaft buried into her cunt and her hold on reality shattered. Scalding pleasure tore through her. Consumed her. The harder Drean thrust into her, the harder she wanted it. Her cunt clamped down, constricting around the rigid organ. Lust licked through her. Lust that burned a path through her veins into the very centre of her sex. Deep. Undeniable. Kyra squeezed her eyes shut, tears of wanton rapture wetting her cheeks. Was it the Ambros driving her hunger? Or Xia’s reignited psyche? Or her own adulterous lust? She didn’t know. She just knew she wanted to be burned alive by it. “Oh, gods, I want more!” she screamed. The Succulent Virgin rocked as the watching Ferrellians roared their approval. Drean flipped her to her back, pulling her hips up to his with a savage jerk. Her body arced, her shoulders pressing against the cold floor as her legs locked around his hips. His massive, pulsating shaft drove into her, punishing and brutal. “Yes!” she shouted. “Yes!” With a slight shift of weight, he yanked her upward by the collar, her chest smacking against Drean’s hard, sweat-slicked torso. Without breaking the rhythm of his stabbing cock, the Lappian looped their chain around her back and wrenched it tight, trapping her against his body. Even if she wanted to, she wasn’t breaking away from

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him now. With his free hand, he grabbed a fistful of her hair and forced her head to his. She could taste her own juices as his tongue invaded her mouth, forceful and pitiless. Her cunt contracted. Her breath quickened. She clamped her legs tighter around his bucking hips. Oh, gods… In a silent snarl, he smashed her back against the wall of the pit, the mirror shattering as his cock drove deeper, deeper, deeper until she thought herself filled with nothing but his flesh. Until she was no longer herself but an extension of his powerful body. Squirming heat began to possess her. Low. In the inner walls of her sex. It shot up her spine. Into her chest. She bit down on Drean’s bottom lip, her body on fire. Ambros fed the flames, turning her into a living torch on the brink of blazing out of control. All it would take was one more -Drean threw back his head, a roar tearing from his throat as his balls drew tight and his hips bucked, pumping her full of his seed. There it was. The final push that sent her over the edge. And with it, came the voices. …I will die before something happens to you… Her nipples pinched into aching points of concentrated pleasure. …you’re my brother, my ja’kurr… Her cunt constricted. …more. By the Five Moons, more… Her body arched. …Rebirth in pain. Renewal in sin… Exploding heat devoured her. …Raiven! Forgive me… “Oh, gods, Drean!” Her cry rent the air, the Lappian’s name on her lips bitter, cruel… and delicious. She opened her eyes, staring up at the eager spectators above. Long enough to see the small smile on Sylt’s twitching mouth.

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Then she let her eyelids close and gave herself over to the inferno consuming her. Unable to hear the voices anymore.

*** Her pussy sucked at his cock. Her hands fisted in his hair. Shining, black eyes gazed down into his as her nipples rubbed his chest, sending shivers of pleasure over his skin. His fingers curled around her slim waist before smoothing a lazy line up her back. God, he loved this woman. She was his world, his reason for living, his -Raiven! Forgive me! The voice shot through his head, slicing a cold path through his passion. He blinked, staring up at the woman about to kiss him and his blood ran cold. It wasn’t Kyra looking down at him, fucking him. It was -“Get off me!” he roared, hurling Cy to the floor. He leapt off the bed, glaring at the naked woman staring up at him, fear and stunned confusion twisting her beautifully cruel features. What the hell just happened? One moment he was making love to Kyra, the next he was gazing into the face of -Hideous recollections crashed over him; what had happened, where he was, what Cy was doing to him. What she’d done with Kyra. Rage filled him. Cold and lethal. He locked his stare on the High Priestess, clarity making him deadly. “It’s over, Cy.” The woman looked at him, her body trembling as she scrambled to her feet. From what, Raiven didn’t know or care. “It’s not over, a’Tor,” she hissed, her nipples still as hard as they were when they brushed his flesh. “Not until I say.” “Then why am I standing here seeing you, instead of Kyra?” Raiven took a step toward her. A cold lick of satisfaction curled in his chest when Cy took a stumbling step back. “Just as I thought. It seems your god has deserted you. Perhaps Ithis isn’t too impressed with the way his servant is behaving.”

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“What are you going to do?” Cy demanded, struggling to stand her ground. Her eyes were wide, the pulse in her neck beating like a trapped moth. “You’re standing there naked, unarmed. All I have to do is scream and Nalyx will be in here in a second.” Raiven gave her a flat smile. “I don’t need my gun to kill you, Cy. By the time your Lunarian lap-dog crosses the threshold your neck will be broken.” He took another step, eyes narrowing. “Now tell me, where is Kyra?” Cy’s eyes turned to slits. “That shape-shifting whore!” she hissed, almost under her breath. “Always that shape-shifting whore.” She gave him an icy smile. “Being fucked by every Ferrellian from here to Ferrellian Ten,” she said. “And from what I hear, enjoying every minute. She never calls for you, a’Tor. In fact, she’s been paired with a Lappian warrior with a cock like a Jyian Blass and a tongue like a Palon viper. It’s his name she screams when she comes, not yours. It’s his back she scratches with her nails. His seed that drips from her cunt.” Fury -- unlike any Raiven had known before -- tore through him. Scalding his veins, threatening to consume him. But he stood still, focussed solely on the woman standing before him. “I’m leaving now, Cy,” he said. “Try to stop me and not even Ithis will be able to save you.” He took a step. Nauseous heat crashed over him. The air shimmered. His chest grew tight. There before him, black eyes laughing and smooth arms open, stood Kyra. His heart thumped. Why was he leaving? “Hello, lover,” he said with a smile. Kyra smiled back. “Hello, lover.” She stepped toward him, folding her arms around his body. He looked down at her, blissfully happy. Her smile stretched. For a queasy fleeting second, it looked like a living shadow engulfed her, writhing and hideous, but then he blinked and it was just Kyra. His Kyra. “God, I love you,” he said, dropping his head to hers.

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His heart swelled, as did his cock. He laid her back onto the bed, cupping her breasts with his hands and capturing her mouth with his. Deep inside however, he screamed. And screamed. And screamed.

Chapter 5 Someone warm pressed against her. Skin on skin. Kyra opened her eyes, the seductive pull of dreamless sleep making her lids heavy. A muted red light lit the unfamiliar room from under the grated floor, casting the small space in leaping shadows. Without moving, Kyra studied her surrounds. Wherever they were, it wasn’t a cell. A washstand stood in the far corner beside a simple stool and a small floor mirror. Surprisingly, the entryway was open and not a sound came from the other side. She lifted her head -- a little -- the soft chink of the chain on her neck sounding like gunfire in the still silence of the room. The warm body behind her stirred, a growing cock nudging her ass. It all came back. In a flood of images, smells and sounds. Drean! Guilt stung her. Guilt and -- gods help her -- excitement. Slowly she began to inch away from the sleeping Lappian, his hard, warm body too alluring, too intoxicating to risk staying there. A soft snort made her freeze. There was a sleepy hitching of breath and suddenly a strong arm curled over her hips. Drean’s large hand flattened against her belly, the tips of his fingers brushing over the smooth curve of her mons. Muscles coiled, Kyra waited. The arm around her waist tugged gently, and as the buzzing sound of his snoring started again, she was pulled back across the pallet into the curve of his body. She let out a silent sigh, her heart roaring in her ears. Drean’s cock, stiffer than any morning hard-on she’d known, rubbed against her ass. A tiny squirm of

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anticipation wriggled in her pussy and she scowled, guilt stinging her again. What the fuck was she doing feeling horny? The Ambros in her system would have dissipated long ago! The Ambros may be gone, but I’m not, a very soft voice whispered in her head. Nalyx? Xia? Kyra didn’t know. And it scared the shit out of her. Teeth gritted, she curled her fingers around Drean’s thick wrist. She needed to get off this ship, find Raiven and get the fucking ghosts out of her head. Before she was lost to them. “Going somewhere?” Shit. Drean’s voice sounded coarse with sleep, but Kyra knew it was a pretence. The Lappian may have only just awoken, but he was a warrior of the Ri Order. Even in sleep he was alert and ready to kill. “Yes,” she began. “Away from --” She didn’t get a chance to finish. With an abrupt heave, Drean flipped her to her back, burning gaze scalding her flesh as his spread thighs pinned hers to the floor. “I didn’t finish,” he stated. Kyra didn’t need to ask what task he’d left incomplete. The rigid length of his cock grinding against her pussy lips was the only clue she needed. He planned to continue his sexual assassination, and she didn’t think she had the strength to fight him. Or the desire? Shut up, Nalyx. “Drean,” she said, meeting his stare. “I didn’t kill your sister. I swear to you.” Drean didn’t seem to hear her. His hands snatched at her wrists, planting them on the floor on either side of her head. The head of his cock, distended and harder than Murukhan agate, pushed at her damp outer lips, a silent promise of what was to come. If she didn’t stop him. She tried one more time. “Drean, I did not kill Trista. Mur’dek did.”

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Green eyes flashed at the name. His body became still, poised on the edge. “Your master-to-be?” Full lips curled into an emotionless smile as his fingers sank harder into the delicate flesh of her wrists. “How convenient.” Kyra stared at him. “What do you mean?” “Don’t play the fool, shape-shifter,” he sneered. “What do you mean?” she repeated through clenched teeth. Drean’s eyebrows dipped into a slight frown. “Surely you know. You’re not for sale. The acquisition has already been made. Once Slave-Master Sylt finishes with your lessons you’re to be handed over to the Murukhan warlord.” The frown vanished, replaced by a cold smile. “What a pity you won’t be alive to reminisce with the ruk’da.” He plunged into her, his penetration swift and savage, like a bolt of ion energy stabbing into her cunt. Pain and pleasure crashed together in a scalding ribbon that shot through her body, scoring away the dread of Drean’s revelation. Yes! the strengthening voice of Xia screamed in her head. Yes! echoed the malevolent voice of Nalyx. No! her own voice screamed. Disgusted anger tore through her. With a violent shove, she forced him to the side, straddling his hips before he could react. “Listen!” she demanded, pinning his shoulders to the floor with her fists. “If you do this, Drean Et, your fei’lia’s death will never be avenged.” She glared down into his intense face. “You are a Ri warrior, and Trista’s ja’kurr! Behave that way! Lord Mur’dek is her defiler, her murderer, and you’ve let him live. Trust me, he laughs about it every night.” Pale green eyes widened and for the first time since being chained to him, Kyra saw something other than hate or lust twist his features. She saw misery. “I can help you, Drean,” she continued, not softening her tone at all. “I can help you destroy that ruk’da. I can help you wipe his very existence from the six systems, but you have to believe me. I did not kill Trista.” Gently, she touched his jaw with her fingertips, never letting his stricken eyes leave hers. “I tried to help her.” She tightened the muscles of her pussy, holding him to her in an embrace more intimate than any other. Like I need you to help me now.

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With steady hands, she took his large ones, placing them on the prohibita-collar around her neck. “You are strong, Drean. I know that just as well as Trista did. Be strong for her. Be strong for us. We don’t belong here, you or I. It’s time for us to leave.” She gazed into his eyes. Please. By the gods of Kaius, please believe me. Drean looked up at her, face completely expressionless. “For my fei’lia,” he said, curling long fingers beneath the cool metal collar. Kyra’s breath caught. The muscles in his shoulders and arms flexed. There was a sharp crack as he snapped his wrists and the collar fell from Kyra’s neck. She was free.

*** The slave-master’s den was dark. Quiet. Kyra shot Drean a quick look over her shoulder. Her neck ached. The slave collar had been tight and restrictive and her muscles were still recovering from its cruel grip. Added to that now was the throbbing pain left from Drean’s removal of it. The Lappian’s strength was amazing, almost unbelievable. When she’d placed his hands on the collar she hadn’t expected him to snap the metal. The action had been symbolic; our collars bind us to an existence we don’t deserve kind of thing. She gave her neck a quick rub. Drean was on her side for the moment. With strength like his, the gods help her if he changed his mind. Stretching forward a little, she strained to hear something -- anything -- coming from Sylt’s private den. Drean’s bulk pressed behind her, radiating heat and sticky with sweat. As soon as she could, she’d find them both something to wear. For one thing, they were a little conspicuous. For another, Drean’s enormous cock seemed to be in a permanent state of semi-arousal. Saving Raiven was one thing, saving him while in the presence of a naked Lappian warrior with half a hard-on was quite another. She listened at the door. No sound could be heard coming from the room. Do I risk it? The answer was obvious. She needed to get her hands on the oily slave-master. There was something in his head she needed.

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She turned back to Drean, the heat from his close body like a blanket on her skin. “I don’t think he’s --” The blaster muzzle suddenly pressing against her temple stopped her. “Entertaining, but troublesome,” Sylt’s voice rasped in her ear as one clawed hand curled around her upper arm. “Oh, so troublesome.” Kyra spun, but not before Drean charged. He crashed into the Ferrellian, smashing the slaver against the edge of the entryway, knocking her into the wall as he did so. Sylt went down. But not out. Silver eyes flashing, he lashed out, striking Drean with talon-like claws that left deep, blood-oozing gashes across the back of his knees. Without uttering a sound, Drean smashed his fist up under Sylt’s chin, sending him backward in an awkward arc. Before hitting the floor, the Ferrellian twisted in mid-air, landing softly on steady feet. “Drean,” he said, barely panting, the scales on his body almost a blinding red. “This is not becoming behaviour for royalty.” He flicked his slitted eyes to Kyra. “You’ve let this shape-shifting killer cloud your judgement.” Tense seconds passed. The Ferrellian and the Lappian stared at each other, both coiled and ready to strike. “You’re right, slave-master,” Drean finally said, low and soulless. “My judgement has been clouded.” Kyra’s blood ran cold. “Very good, Drean.” Sylt’s face lit with triumph. “It saddens me to see you so adrift. Now take Kyra back to her cell, please.” His lipless mouth twitched as his silver eyes slid to her. “I have more lessons to --” Drean’s fist crashed against the side of Sylt’s face, cutting him short. The slaver began to collapse but Drean’s hands curled around his narrow throat seconds before he hit the floor, hauling his limp body upward. The Crown Prince of Lappia turned back to Kyra. “You need him alive, don’t you?” Heart pounding in her chest, she nodded. Drean scowled. “Pity,” he said, throwing Sylt into the darkness of his den.

***

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“My Lord?” Scowling, Mur’dek turned away from the window, irritated at the interruption. The leather whip in his hands creaked as he coiled it into two loops. He rarely put it down these days. At least, not since Kyra Issarei had escaped his control. The memory of it biting into her smooth flesh, of her blood seeping into its porous surface was an aphrodisiac he could not resist. His body ached for the day when he would do it again. The next time, however, she would be in her true form, not that of someone else. Eager blood pulsed through his already rigid cock as an image of the slim shape-shifter flashed into his head. He’d tasted her once. He would do so again. Of that he had no doubt. A scowl creased his face. That was, after he dealt with the traitorous Lunarian High Priestess. Ithis’s servant or no, the cunt was going to die. Nobody broke a deal with Mur’dek of Murukha. Nobody. He didn’t care if they did have some fucking lame assed god on their side. He ruled the six systems. He’d destroyed more religions than the pathetic collection of gods had created worlds. “My Lord?” “What is it?” he snapped, deciding not to activate the door entry. Whoever was on the other side could stay there. “My Lord, we are two parcepts from Ytze.” Mur’dek’s scowl vanished. He ran his claws over the stiff loops of his whip. Excellent. Soon Cy would be begging for mercy. But even better, the Terran bounty hunter would be in his possession. And when he had Raiven a’Tor, it’d be only a matter of time before Kyra Issarei came to save him. Aching cock twitching, he grinned, fingering his whip some more. Told you it wasn’t over, shape-shifter.

*** Kyra placed her fingertips on Sylt’s smooth scalp, the tiny scales like sharp blades under her skin. “Are you ready?” she said, looking up at Drean.

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The Lappian warrior nodded once, tightening his chokehold on the squirming Ferrellian, face once again unreadable. What he was about to witness had been -indirectly -- the cause of his sister’s death. Kyra didn’t know what to expect from him, but at that moment she had to trust his honor. What would happen next was too important. She closed her eyes, fingers tracing small, lazy circles over Sylt’s head.

His head jerked under her fingers and she frowned a little.

“Drean!” the slave-master shouted, sounding shocked, scared and furious all at

once. “Stop her!” “Be quiet,” Drean ordered. “Now!” Kyra, however, barely heard them. The shift had already begun. A strong pulse beat between her thighs. A shiver whispered down her spine, tickling the crease of her ass. It’s drawing close. She let her fingers slip to Sylt’s temples, the pads of her thumbs resting lightly on the harsh ridge of his nose for a lingering moment. So close. A throb of anticipation deep in her cunt responded. A soft gasp left Sylt’s throat. Kyra smiled. She could feel his unwilling pleasure already. “Kyra.” Drean’s distant voice cut the heat swelling through her head. “He’s getting a hard-on!” “Hush, Drean,” she soothed without opening her eyes. “It’s fine. Trust me.” Another gasp escaped the Ferrellian. Louder. It echoed through her, joining the fire building in her veins. She drew a trembling breath. Closer. Her skin began to prickle, like a million points of sunlight dancing over her flesh. A wave began to build, undulating deep in the pit of her stomach. Closer. A low moan came from Sylt.

Yes, it does feel good, doesn’t it? So good.

The pulse between her thighs turned to a scalding brand, almost unbearable. She

arched her neck in a silent cry as the wave broke in a powerful blow. She felt nothing

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but hate for the Ferrellian, but the change being wrought upon her body felt like heady, exquisite sin. The throb in her cunt grew stronger. Gods, yes! The shift! Her flesh became liquid. Hot and cold, burning, icy. “Fuck!” Sylt cried, voice infused with pleasure. “By Weic’s tooth!” Pressing fingertips harder to his skull, Kyra readied for the peak. Her flesh rippled. Limbs stretched. The hair on her head seemed to draw into a scalp now covered in tiny scales, the sensation tickling and so arousing that Kyra’s nipples pinched hard. Nipples that shrank and flattened into smooth but wiry pectorals. Exquisite heat burned a licking, scorching, whipping path of transformation until she knelt before the trembling Ferrellian in his form. Yet it was not over. There was more to come. The most important. She opened her mind. Here it is! Stabs of sizzling heat erupted in her body. Scalding blood pumped into her newly formed cock. Here. I’m open. Sylt’s dark and malevolent psyche flooded into her mind, his id twisting into hers like a black cancer threading through healthy flesh. Becoming a part of her. Kyra’s mind screamed with its hideous onslaught, but with it came what she sought. What she’d risked her life and Drean’s life to procure. Raiven’s whereabouts. “Yes!” she screamed. She wrenched her hands from Sylt’s head, staring at him with his own silver, slitted eyes. The scales that covered her body flashed from pitchblack to glorious gold as elation roared through her. She knew everything now. Where Raiven was, who had him and how she was going to save him. “Thank you, slavemaster,” she rasped, feeling her now lipless mouth twitch at the gaping shock on Sylt’s face. “It has been a most rrrewarding lesson. Enlightening even. Now here’s one for you. The most important lesson when dealing with a shape-shifter. Rrready?” She lowered her voice as if sharing a secret. “Your mind is never your own.” Sylt glared at her, opening his mouth.

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“Yes, I know, I know,” Kyra murmured before he could speak. “Entertaining but troublesome. Thank you.” With a grin, she planted her fingers back on his skull and began the shift back.

*** They moved through the Succulent Virgin more easily than Kyra had expected. Drean, it seemed, was not just an average slave aboard the ship. More than one Ferrellian moved aside as they approached, some even scurrying past with lowered eyes. It made her a little nervous and raised a lot of questions in her mind, but she didn’t have time to deal with it now. She’d get to the bottom of the slavers’ odd behaviour later. If the Lappian turned on her before that… well, she’d handle it then. Her priority was getting to Raiven, and the fastest way she could do that was aboard the Raptor. The door to the left cell cargo bay slid open as they approached and Kyra’s unease intensified. She closed her fingers tighter around the grip of the blaster hidden under her newly acquired slave robes. If anyone stepped out of the dark bay, they were dead. No one did. She crossed the threshold into the silent cargo bay, senses on high alert. “Lights,” she muttered, stopping at the room’s control panel. There was a low hum and then stark white light flooded the room. A smile stretched Kyra’s lips. Raiven’s ship stood waiting, small, sleek and very, very powerful. A relieved sigh escaped her. Thank the gods. “Nice ship,” Drean uttered, coming up beside her. She shot him a quick look. His impressive bulk was still naked, his cock still semi-erect. Kyra didn’t know what was getting his blood pumping -- the escape, the state they’d left Sylt in, the ship -- but as long as it kept him on her side she didn’t mind. “A very nice ship,” she responded. “And a very fast ship.” “You know how to fly it?”

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“Absolutely.” She moved toward the hatch and activated the hidden external opening mechanism. She had no doubts the ship would be ready. The Ferrellians may have shackled it but they would not have been capable of shutting it down. Only Raiven knew how to do that. “We need to get to Ytze. Immediately.” By the time Drean joined her she was strapped into the flight chair and keying in a complicated series of commands. She flicked him a guarded look. The wide slave collar that had kept them chained together was missing. A niggling worm of worry stirred in Kyra’s stomach. With his phenomenal strength, she had no doubt he’d snapped it open, but why hadn’t he done it before? The worm squirmed some more, setting her nerves on edge. If he were going to make a move to stop her, it would be now. Pale green eyes regarded her as he snapped himself into the co-pilot’s flight chair. “Tell me what you need me to do.” Another sigh welled in her chest but she suppressed it. “Nothing,” she replied, turning back to the control deck. A sudden wave of aching memories washed over her. She and Raiven had made love right here the very day they’d rediscovered each other, and more than once since being on the run. She let a small smile pull at her lips. I’m coming, lover, she thought, hitting the ship’s computer drive. “Initiate sequence, Issarei One,” she said in Chamelyon. The words slipped from her tongue like a soft kiss. A kiss that charged the Raptor’s powerful engines into eager life. “What about the bay doors?” Drean asked. She gave him a grin. “What about them?” With a quick jab, she entered an instruction into the Raptor’s communication comp. A deep, vibrating rumble filled the cargo bay as a large slab of the wall slid aside. Drean’s eyes widened. “There’s a wealth of information in Sylt’s head.” Kyra took the Raptor’s control yoke. “If you knew what to look for.” Her grin stretched wider as with relief, anger and anticipation mingling in her veins, she manoeuvred Raiven’s ship out of the bay and sent it punching through deep space.

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*** “How can you do what you do?” They’d sat in silence for a long time, Kyra navigating the Raptor as far away from the Succulent Virgin as possible. So far they’d not been followed. Which meant Sylt was still unconscious. And undiscovered. She hoped. The hyper-flight engines droned on in the background, the ship eating up the distance to Ytze in a light-bending blur. It wasn’t fast enough for Kyra. The thought of Raiven in Cy’s manipulative hands frightened her. She knew she should have dealt with the fucking bitch the last time they’d met. When she got to Lunaria Prime’s moon, she was going to amend the problem once and for all. If there were a way of defying physics, she’d be there already. “Kyra?” Drean’s deep voice made her turn to look at him. The slave robes she’d worn while fleeing from Sylt’s vessel now covered the Lappian’s massive frame, tight and almost comical. It was the only item of apparel on the Raptor that came close to fitting him, so it had to do. Despite the fact he seemed inclined to walk about naked, Kyra needed him clothed. She’d all but pushed the soft voices of Xia and Nalyx to the back of her mind, but they were still there. Goading her. Taunting her. The desire to impale herself on Drean’s impressive cock was still powerful. What worried her the most was who owned the desire. The princess, the zealot or herself? “How do you do it?” Drean prompted. “Change, I mean?” Kyra studied him for a moment. She didn’t want to talk. She wanted to think about saving Raiven from a bitch on a power rush. “Only females carried the shifting gene,” she said, turning back to the cockpit’s control panel, “and even then, only one in every thousand.” She slid her palms over the tops of her thighs, once again covered by the black fabric of her favorite all-in-one suit, mouth dry and heart heavy. “For over a millennium shape-shifters were considered almost holy. They were treasured. Revered. One day

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however, in the Third Age of Kaius, our people’s spiritual leader, the Supreme Uri -- a man drunk with power and vanity -- fell in love with a shifter called Pia.” There was a swift intake of breath from Drean, as if he knew what was coming. Kyra closed her eyes for a moment. He was wrong, of course. No one could guess at the horror that would befall a race because of that one arrogant man. Straightening her shoulders, Kyra continued. “Pia,” she said, “loved another. A simple farmer named Heth. Uri didn’t handle rejection well. Heth was flayed alive for blasphemy, Pia forced to watch by the very man who swore he loved her. By the time Uri finished preaching the evils of my kind, the shape-shifters of Chamelyo had become objects of debasement. Any women with the ability to shift, in some cases girls as young as ten, were chained and collared and used as toys for the pleasure of men. Forced to shift into so many different forms without release or time to recuperate that their bodies would shut down. The lucky ones were fucked to death by their ‘owners’.” “Is that what caused your kind to become extinct?” Kyra shook her head. “No. For a while we were sold as slaves, traded, treated worse than grutt. But when Pia died, chained and beaten into submission in Uri’s bed, his mind snapped.” She gave him a steady look before turning back to the stars. “The great spiritual leader of my people called for the death of all ‘demon shape-shifting bitches’.” Drean’s green gaze bored into her. She could feel it on the side of her face. “The Third Age of Kaius was over a century ago.” A wry smile pulled at Kyra’s lips. “Yes, it was. And you’re wondering how I came to be now.” She could see his nod from the corner of her eye. “I don’t know. But as soon as my mother discovered what her only child was, she sent me off to an aunt on the far reaches of Jaxian space.” “Where you stayed…” “Until I was old enough to leave.” She suppressed a sigh. “She thought she was doing the right thing.”

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Leaning forward, she adjusted the Raptor’s engine output. She was over talking for the moment. Drean, thankfully, seemed to understand.

*** He pulled himself up.

Through the darkness. Through the shroud that tried to strangle him. Confuse

him. Deceive him. His eyes locked onto the woman standing before him. In his head he could see her long slim legs, her sculpted butt and wonderful breasts. In his head he could see her sensual pouting lips, her laughing midnight-black eyes, her glossy white-blonde hair. But in his heart he saw Cy. His heart knew who stood before him. Who fucked him every night. Who used his body to sate her devious hunger. Who had handed Kyra over to the sex-slavers of Ferrellian Ten. His heart knew. So he no longer listened to his head. He smiled at the woman, seeing Kyra. Knowing it was Cy. She smiled back, taking a step toward him. As she walked, that demonic shadow shrouding her came too. She came to him, naked, ready to fuck, with her demon god in tow. It wasn’t just Cy who used his body. Not only Cy who raped his mind and soul. It was Ithis too. It was time to end the whole fucking thing.

He held out his head. “Come here,” he murmured.

She did so. Willingly.

She thought him finally consumed. Controlled.

Raiven smiled.

She thought wrong.

Her fingers linked through his and he tugged her gently into his embrace,

curling his arms around her slim body, feeling her warm flesh under his palm just as he felt the shadow chill his skin. “My life has come to this,” he whispered against her

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temple, letting his lips touch her flesh. She tasted of honey, milk and decay. Of rotting flesh and sweet elixir. His hands skimmed down her body, cupping her ass, fingers squeezing, kneading the firm muscles there before slipping between the crevice and drawing over the tight hole of her sphincter. He needed her relaxed. Unsuspecting. Cy drew Ithis’s power while in a state of arousal. While she was shrouded in his form he seemed to be at her mercy. At least, that’s what Raiven prayed for. He pressed the pad of his finger over her clenched ass hole. She moaned at the contact, hips rising a little as her cunt and ass tightened with anticipation. “You bring me such pleasure,” she murmured, rolling her head so his lips could taste her neck. He did as she wanted, Kyra’s scent filling his breath. His cock began to pump with blood, his head fighting for control. But he wouldn’t let it. He couldn’t. Instead, he tuned his senses into the shadow. “Let me bring you more pleasure,” he whispered, smoothing one hand up her ribcage to cup one breast. His fingers found her nipple, tight and puckered. She groaned as he pinched it, forcing her body closer. One long leg wrapped around his and she ground her pussy against his cock. The organ stiffened more, hungry for Kyra’s juices. Cy’s nails raked up his back, leaving lines of stinging pain as they travelled to his shoulders. She threaded her hands into his hair and guided his head until their lips brushed. “Pleasure me,” she said on a breath. The smell of decomposing flesh filled his lungs. She touched his bottom lip with the tip of her tongue. “Pleasure me, my love.” She closed her eyes and melted against him. It was the moment Raiven had waited for. The hand on her ass turned into a vise-like claw, holding her to him like a pivot even as the one on her breast pushed hard. She spun in his arms, a blur of lush flesh and writhing darkness. Yanking her backward, he smacked their bodies together.

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One hand closed around her throat as the other anchored high on her inner thigh. His forefinger sank into the sopping channel of her cunt and he hooked his finger, driving his nail into the soft wall of her sex. “It’s over, Cy,” he whispered, pressing his mouth to her ear. “Scream.” His fingers curled tighter against her throat, the sounds of choked whimpers bringing a cold smile to his face. He drove the finger in her cunt higher, almost lifting her feet from the floor. Around her, the shadow writhed and bucked. “Scream,” he ordered again, letting his grip on her throat lessen. A little. “I’m going to kill --” Cy spat. He sank his fingers into her throat again. “Scream.” So she did. Loud and piercing. In his head, Raiven heard Ithis scream with fury and rage and -- like a unexpected cut on raw flesh -- fear. You don’t scare me, Ithis, Raiven told the bellowing god. You took my life when you took Kyra from me. Now I am Death. I fear nothing. There was a shout from beyond the door and Nalyx charged into the room, a small but lethal Lunarian fusion pistol in his hand. Exactly what Raiven hoped he’d do. Yes! Fevered eyes locked on the sight before him. “My Priestess!” he squealed in horror. “Kill him!” Cy screamed. “Kill him!” Nalyx raised his gun. Raiven pounced. He shoved Cy to the left and dived forward. Left arm whipping out, he smacked his hand against the fusion pistol, snatching it from Nalyx’s grip just as the zealot fired. The pulse obliterated the ceiling, showering them all in fine particles of dust but Raiven didn’t pause. His fist smashed against Nalyx’s face, crushing the Lunarian’s nose in a single blow.

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Spinning around, Raiven pointed the unconscious zealot’s weapon straight at Cy’s face. “I know this won’t kill you,” he said, staring into the High Priestess’s petrified eyes and seeing Ithis’s glowing points. “But it’s gonna hurt you for a while.” He squeezed the trigger.

Cy flew backwards.

Ithis screamed in his head.

As the High Priestess landed on the floor in a quivering, jerking heap, Raiven

turned and ran from the room, his heart and his head clear.

Chapter 6 Mur’dek walked through Cy’s private retreat, relaxed, calm. Behind him, Nalyx followed, face red, eyes bulging. Having one’s air supply almost cut by a tightly wound length of whip usually had that effect. The zealot stumbled but Mur’dek didn’t slow his pace. A strangled grunt told him the Lunarian still lived. That was enough. He’d hate to disappoint Cy by killing the snivelling fruc. Well, killing him before she at least got a chance to say goodbye. An enormous archway flanked by two flaming pyres told the warlord he’d finally arrived at the High Priestess’s personal quarters. He shook his head. Such opulence for a woman of spirituality. Such arrogance. Crossing the threshold, he walked straight for the bed, pulling the staggering Nalyx after him. Cy sat cross-legged in the middle, shoulders square, back straight. The dark diaphanous headdress covered her face and Mur’dek had to admit, she looked formidable. But he wasn’t fooled. There was a slight hitch to her breathing and the muscles of her arms and legs seemed to twitch… minutely. She was in pain. A lot of pain. Which made her weak. He bared his fangs in a slow smile. Good. “Welcome, Warlord,” she said, her voice sounding strong. “You seem to have picked up a stray.” “Forgive me, my Priestess,” Mur’dek returned, nodding his head slightly as strangled whimpers of protest came from behind him. “Just some piece of fruc filth I encountered coming in.” He gave his whip a swift jerk, grinning at the sound of Nalyx falling to his knees. “Would you believe it had the audacity to try and prevent me from entering? As if someone could stop me doing what I want. Getting what I want.”

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The woman before him was very still. Mur’dek could taste her fear on the air. He cocked his head. “The bounty hunter’s not here? I expected to find him in your bed.” “There’s been --” He cut her short. “Where is the shape-shifter, Cy? We had a deal. You keep the Terran, I get the Chamelyon.” There was a slight change in Cy’s position, an almost imperceptible slumping of her shoulders before she removed the headdress concealing her face. Mur’dek raised his eyebrows. Cy’s once beautifully cruel face was blistered and mangled -- as if she’d been flayed. The sight sent a surge of blood to his cock and he chuckled. Perhaps he didn’t need to ask why a’Tor was not there. The answer was already evident. “My follower…” her eyes flicked to the wheezing Lunarian on the floor, “…discovered a’Tor and the shape-shifter on Jax, but they escaped before he could contain them. When the Ferrellian slavers captured a’Tor’s ship I decided to leave the shape-shifter with them. To prepare her for you.” Mur’dek narrowed his eyes. “Perhaps you should have informed me of this before I crossed the six systems.” Cy tilted her chin. “It was to be a gift. To celebrate a new partnership. The joining of two mighty forces. The beginning of a relationship to make the six systems tremble.” “The six systems already tremble,” he informed her bluntly. “I make them tremble. I don’t need a Lunarian god-botherer to help me.” He gave the whip another sharp tug and Nalyx’s choking body slid across the floor in little jerky spurts. “I’m not happy, Cy.” The blood drained from her twisted, weeping face. “I can fix it, my Lord!” she gushed, scrambling to her knees on the bed. “Trust me, all is not lost! Already there are steps being taken…” Mur’dek studied her, enjoying her fear and desperation. “Tell me how,” he said. “If I like your answer I might spare your life.” He tugged on the whip again, and Nalyx uttering a weak gurgle. “Your pet, however, is going to die. No one breaks a deal with Mur’dek of Murukhan. I don’t care what god you bow to.”

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***

Kyra strapped Raiven’s gun to her thigh, the holster hanging low on her hip. She’d never fired the famous Terran gun before. Hopefully she wouldn’t have to today. The gun was there to be given to Raiven the second she saw him. She hefted her own weapon of choice, a Jyian Atomizer, up to her shoulder. In approximately sixty seconds she and Drean were energizing onto Ytze. Sixty seconds after that, they were storming Cy’s private retreat. She wasn’t planning on stopping for a conversation. Not until she had Raiven back on the Raptor, and even then, talking would have to wait until after she’d ripped his clothes off and fucked his brains out. She turned to Drean, still dressed in the straining slave robes. “Remember. In. Out.” He raised his eyebrows. “As you so forcefully reminded me back on the Succulent Virgin, I’m a warrior of the Ri Order. I know how to storm a fortress.” A surprised snort of laughter escaped Kyra. Drean was a creature of action rather than words. But when his sense of humour slipped past his silent façade it was blunt and dry. “Okay, warrior of the Ri Order,” she arched an eyebrow, “let’s go.” Lunaria’s five moons orbited a central uninhabited planet. The King of the Five Moons resided on Orz, the smallest but richest moon. Ytze was the furthest moon from Orz and the centre of Cy’s spiritual rule. The late winter evening cast the moon in a dense fog, chilly as an open crypt, that swirled around Kyra’s and Drean’s feet. Cy’s retreat -- an enormous temple dedicated to Calis -- waited for them on a lone rise. Kyra grinned. Cy was too arrogant to think someone would dare trespass on her sacred ground. Getting in should be a breeze. They stopped at the gates, both checking their weapons. Drean held two Jaxian blasters taken from the hold on the Raptor, each capable of destroying a large building. “Okay,” Kyra whispered, never taking her eyes from the temple sitting before her in darkness. Cy might be arrogant but Kyra was cautious. She didn’t want to be surprised by any “clergy” patrolling the perimeter. “My destination is the High Priestess’s private chamber. I don’t know how many servants and retainers she has, so

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be on your toes. Remember, this is a temple. Cy may be the mistress of Ithis, but there could be true worshippers of Calis, the Goddess of Purity in there.” She charged her gun. “Let’s not start a holy war.” “Good idea.” The deep, husky male voice that caressed her ears from behind was more familiar than her own. Raiven! She spun around. And there he was. Looking tired, weary and so undeniably there she threw herself at him and kissed him passionately before he got a chance to say anything else.

*** Raiven kissed the fluttering pulse in Kyra’s neck, feeling it beat under his lips. He drew in a deep breath, letting his senses be washed by her scent. Letting his body be cleansed by hers. They were back on the Raptor, Cy’s temple and Ytze far behind them. Kyra had wanted to storm in and kick Cy’s mystical ass, but he’d stopped her. Whatever the High Priestess had been doing to him while he was under her spell, it had left him very weak. Hiding in the dense bush around the temple, exposed to the icy environment as he waited for his body to regain some strength, had almost been his undoing. He couldn’t protect Kyra in his current condition and he doubted Ithis would stay subdued for long. He needed to recuperate, and the only place he wanted to do that was in his lover’s arms. He looked up at her, smoothing his hands up her bare back. She straddled him on the edge of their bunk, long legs locked around his hips, hands tangled in his hair. Few words had passed between them since he’d found her at the temple. After kissing him so passionately he feared he’d pass out, she’d wrapped him in her arms and in a million pinpricks of fractured light, energized them up to his orbiting ship. Once aboard, she’d quickly gotten the Raptor moving, the Lappian at her side the whole time.

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Drean Et’s eyes never left Kyra. They followed her everywhere. Tracked her every move. His face was expressionless but Raiven had spent a lifetime reading people’s emotions. The Lappian’s feelings for Kyra smouldered in his pale green eyes. Irrefutable. Undeniable. He was in love with her. A chill wound around Raiven’s heart but he closed his mind to it. He had nothing to fear. Drean Et might be on his ship, but the proof of Kyra’s affections was here now. In his arms. Her pussy clamped around his cock, tight and dripping with creamy pleasure. She rode him, deliberately slow, holding the moment of bliss forever. Her hips moved slightly, sending pulses of warm pressure through his body. Up his spine. He pulled in a long, shaky breath, letting his hands skim over her ribcage, her breasts. The intoxicating weight of them filled his palms, her puckered nipples rubbing against his skin. Insistent. Demanding. Without taking his eyes from hers, he leant forward and took one of those dusky-pink tips into his mouth. Kyra’s swift intake of breath fed the heat in his balls, the hunger in his body. He suckled harder, pulling her nipple with his teeth as he fondled her breast. “Oh, Raiven.” Her moan was soft. It sent hot blood surging to his cock. She writhed against him, pushing her breast harder into his mouth as she ground her pussy vigorously against his shaft. “Fill me,” she whispered. She wriggled, spreading her thighs wider so her sex opened more. She grabbed one of his hands and directed it to the tiny nub of flesh hidden in the folds of her cunt. His fingertips brushed the swollen button, Kyra arching with each soft contact. His cock ached, so pumped with blood, so fucking hard he thought his flesh would tear. The lips of her pussy stretched around him, the combined juices of their lovemaking covering their thighs, a creamy testament to the building passion that consumed them both. God, how could I have ever been fooled by Cy? A shudder, the precursor to the eruption threatening to overwhelm him, wracked his body. How could I ever believe she was Kyra?

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He fingered her clit again, wanting to feel her cunt grip his cock as she bucked with pleasure. She threw her head back, hips thrusting against his. She wrapped her fingers around her ankles, pulling her legs wider. Letting him sink deeper, deeper until he felt the head of his cock nudge the wall of her womb. “Yes, Raiven,” she ground out. “Don’t stop!” He sank his teeth into her nipple, flicking it with his tongue in rhythm with his finger rubbing her clit. He moved his free hand around her hips, cupping her ass. The tips of his fingers slipped into the crevice between her firm cheeks and she bucked again, the tight muscles of her sex constricting on his cock. Raiven’s blood roared in his ears. His balls, pressed so firmly against Kyra’s ass, felt like they were going to explode. He dragged his mouth from her breast, smiling at the groan of protest that sounded in Kyra’s throat. “No.” The word was just a breath as it slipped past her lips. His answering laugh was low. “Yes.” Planting both hands on her hips, he rolled her to the side, grabbing the back of her left thigh and draping her leg high over his hip. The change in position sank him even deeper into her cunt, Kyra’s muscles folding around him in such a way he felt like he was being drawn into her body. It was too intense. His balls rose. No. Not yet. Hold on. His body obeyed the trembling order. Just. Soft fingertips tiptoed the outline of his tattoo, over his shoulder and across his chest, finding one rock-hard nipple and flicking softly. “Rescuing you has never been so much fun,” she murmured. He gave her a mock scowl. “Who said you rescued me?” “Finding you naked and unarmed outside a psychotic priestess’s temple isn’t a rescue?” She pinched his nipple, sending jolts of squirming tension through his groin. “I’ll remember that for next time.”

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His chuckle turned into a growl as he shoved her completely onto her back, flattening his length along hers. “Hmmm…” he murmured against her neck, “next time…” He nipped her shoulder, her collarbone, the dip at the base of her neck. A groan vibrated under his lips, low in her throat. His pumping cock responded to the sound, swelling even harder with aching, eager hunger inside the creamy walls of her clenching passage. She arched her neck, moving her hips in perfect rhythm with his. Her nails scored a line across his shoulders, almost painful, completely carnal. Totally pleasurable. Touching her flesh with the tip of his tongue, he drew a wet line down to her breasts, teasing one pinched nipple before moving to the other. He was so close to coming. Every fiber in his body thrummed with scalding energy. With every droplet of sweat he licked from her fevered flesh, his body grew hotter. Closer. Tighter. He lifted his head -- to tell her how much he loved her -- just as she lifted her legs, locking her thighs around his hips. The words deserted him, washed away by the feel of her sodden cunt gripping, clenching, sucking deeper at his pulsating shaft. “Raiven. I’m so close.” Her fingers fisted the sheets of their bunk, her breath coming in short pants that made her breasts rise and fall. “Oh, Raiven, I’m so fucking close.” Control abandoned him. Pleasure consumed him. “So am I, lover.” She reached out with one hand, tangling it in his hair, pulling his head down to hers in a savage tug. Her eyes, blacker than sin, locked on his as she parted her lips. “There are many lessons yet to teach you, Raiven a’Tor,” she said on a harsh breath, nipples brushing his chest with each word. “But the most important is that no matter what happens to us, I will love you forever.” Then, with a cry that echoed throughout his ship, she came, the muscles of her pussy constricting in a rapid series of wet pulses. God, yes! Yes! Scalding heat erupted through Raiven. Through his balls. His cock. A kaleidoscope of blinding colours filled his head as his own orgasm shot through him. Oh fuck, yes!

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His hips bucked. His breath caught. Hot cum spurted from his cock like a volcanic geyser. He captured her mouth with his as their juices became one. And everything was as it should be. As it would be. Forever. Heartbeat slowly returning to normal, he raised his head, looking down into her face. “I was never a good student.” He smiled. “I think I’m going to need constant revision of that lesson.” “I’m a very good teacher,” Kyra answered, pulling his head back down to hers. Her lips and tongue touched his. “Revision is my specialty.” The kiss she gave him was long, slow and thorough. Before it ended, Raiven’s cock was once more a throbbing, rigid shaft. And the lesson started again.

*** Raiven opened his eyes. Kyra lay on her belly beside him, her legs tangled with his, eyes closed, breath deep, even and regular. He frowned. Something had woken him. Something different. Something not right. “In the Cavern of Sin shall you find rebirth.” The words were almost inaudible. A whispered hiss beside him. He turned his head to the voice. Drean Et stood beside their bunk, Jaxian blaster in hand. “Seek out Blood,” he whispered, pointing the gun at Raiven’s chest. “Seek out Breath.” A crazed smile distorted his face and he pulled the trigger. There was blinding light. Burning pain. Kyra began to scream. Raiven stared up at Drean through the black, thickening fog descending over him. Stared as Cy came up behind the Lappian and slid her hands up his tattooed arms. “Thank you, my child,” he heard her murmur. “You did well to deactivate the alarm system in time. I trained you well.” Tortured agony cut through Raiven’s body as Drean turned and kissed her scarred, blistered face. “Thank you, High Priestess.”

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And then, as everything began to fade, he watched Mur’dek of Murukha enter the room. Scaled face triumphant. Whip trailing behind him like a live snake. Kyra’s scream rent the air… then there was nothing more. Only blackness.

Epilogue The room was familiar to her. Only three months ago she’d been held here. Chained between these very same columns. Naked, bleeding and burning with a lust that wasn’t her own. The shackles holding her spread-eagled cut into her flesh. The pain they caused, like a razor to raw skin, mingled with the pain of the prohibita-collar around her neck. Anger coursed through her, as cold as death. She’d been deceived. They’d been deceived. Drean had played her all along. Played her for a fool. And now Raiven was dead. She clenched her jaw. When she got out of here the Lappian piece of shit was going to pay. Pay and pay again. Her hands curled around the chains holding her arms, the metal like ice under her flesh as she tightened her grip. An image of Raiven flashed into her mind but she cut it off. When she got out of here she’d think of Raiven. When she got out of here she’d let her heart weep. But not yet. Now was not the time for tears. Now she had to be strong. The far door opened, warm light from the corridor outside spilling into the opulent room. She turned her head, watching as the doorway filled with a shape she knew all too well. The shape of her worst nightmares. The Murukhan warlord walked toward her, clawed fingers touching the loops of his coiled whip like a lover touches their partner’s flesh. Kyra’s hands curled tighter around the chains keeping her off the floor. Her muscles tensed, knowing what was to come. Mur’dek stopped before her, yellow, slitted eyes roaming her naked body as he continued to caress his whip. A long, pointed tongue slithered over his scaly lips before

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he chuckled softly. “Ahhh, shape-shifter,” he said, guttural voice low and smug. “This room has not been the same without you.” Kyra met his hungry gaze, curling her lips into a cold smile. “Hello, Dek,” she growled. “Miss me?”

To be continued in Shifting Lust 3: The Bounty Hunter’s Prize.

Lexxie Couper Lexxie Couper couldn’t exist without her husband’s Playboy collection, her Sci-fi DVD collection, her Stephen King library, and her dog. If it’s raunchy and set in space, she’s either there, or on her way! That is, after she takes the dog for a run along the local beach on the east coast of Australia. Feel like joining Lexxie on one of her sizzling, outof-this-world adventures? Contact her on [email protected] or catch the next flight at www.lexxiecouper.com.

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