Page 1 of Mates for the Raskarrans #1-6

CHAPTER ONE

Liv

I know I’m dreaming because the last thing I remember before lying here on this soft bedding is the intense rattling of the escape pod as it broke through the atmosphere.

For the longest moments of my life, the twelve of us were being shaken like ingredients in a cocktail, straps cutting into our shoulders as they fought to keep us in our seats.

At some point, the G-force must have got too much.

Or I’m dead, I think, breathing in the delicate scent of the smoke coming from a fire in the far corner of the tent I’m in.

The degree of realism to this dream is insane.

I can feel the fibres of the bedding beneath me, tickling against my legs.

The heat of the fire licks over my exposed skin, and I feel glorious.

I’m warm, relaxed. No pain, no discomfort.

If this is death, I don’t mind it in the slightest.

I smile, revelling in the softness surrounding me.

Nothing on the ship that brought me here was so luxurious.

Just basic amenities - uncomfortable cot beds with scratchy sheets.

We might have won the lottery for a place on Alpha Colony, but until we get there, we’re still bottom tier citizens. Not worthy of anything better.

My arms are above my head and I stretch upwards, a deep, bone popping stretch that’s so satisfying. I relax, moving my arms down.

And they catch, something tightening about my wrists.

I twist my head and catch a glimpse of coarse rope binding me.

I bend my knees, pressing my feet into the furs for better leverage.

Shimmering, diaphanous material slips down my thighs, bunching around my hips.

I look down, taking in the see-through material of my dress, my nipples visible through the fabric, as well as the dark thatch of hair between my legs.

So it’s that kind of dream, then. Or I’ve died and gone to heaven.

“Where are you?” I say. “I don’t suppose I’m all trussed up here for nobody’s benefit.”

A shape stirs in the very edge of my range of vision.

I crane my neck, wetting my lips as I wonder what my subconscious has cooked up for me.

One of the beautiful people from the old film posters my sister sometimes smuggled out of Waste Disposal?

Those glorious celebrities from years gone by with their tousled hair and suits with the tie loose, like someone - someone female - had just got them a little ruffled.

Then he steps in front of me and my breath leaves my lungs in a rush.

He has to be pushing seven foot tall, every inch of him thick with corded muscle.

Green-brown skin and a pair of brilliant silver eyes announce him as not human.

Oh, and the tail swishing languidly behind him.

He grins at me as I rake my eyes over him, taking in his magnificence.

All the stories I’ve heard about Alpha Colony - how it’s a human world, but one that gets alien visitors - must have mingled in my sex-starved mind and cooked me up a not-so-little green man.

He’s shirtless, ab muscles rippling as he walks towards me, a defined v cutting down into his loose trousers, pointing to an impressive bulge. When he sees me looking, he grins again, and I notice he has fangs. Naughty.

I blame this on my sister. Sally was the one who snuck romance novels out of Waste Disposal, risking her job and her freedom to save these crinkled, yellowed books.

I always thought she was an idiot for doing it, but after she left to go to Alpha Colony and died when she got there, they were all I had of her.

So I started reading, discovering the strange and saucy world of dashing dukes and alpha male shifters.

And with them, the reason why my sister was so keen on saving such contraband from destruction.

Books, as it turns out, are magical. And after you’ve read a few of the right ones, so are your dreams.

“Oh, I’m all tied up and helpless,” I say, licking my lips in anticipation. “What are you going to do to me?”

“Linasha,” he says, his voice a low rumble. “I will do whatever you desire.”

Fuck me, my subconscious has outdone itself with this guy.

He’s everything I like in a bloke. Big, muscly, a bit rugged - and here to attend to my every need.

I take in the details of his face as he lowers himself to his knees and crawls forwards, up the length of my body.

My heart pounds as he surrounds me, overwhelmed by the size of him.

“Beautiful,” he says, silver eyes full of heat. He’s handsome in an almost-but-not-quite human sort of way. Familiar and alien at the same time. But there’s nothing alien about the way he looks at me, and it has desire curling in my belly.

Then he strokes a hand across my chest, thumb brushing the taut peak of my nipple through the sheer fabric of my dress.

I arch into the touch, unable to draw him down to me with my hands tied.

Being at his mercy like this is exactly as much of a turn on as I imagined it would be, and my core aches with need.

You are currently on an escape pod, crashing to the surface of an undocumented planet, a little voice in the back of my mind says.

Exactly why I should indulge in this little fantasy for as long as it lasts, I think back at it.

Then my not-so-little green man lowers his head and takes my nipple in his mouth, giving it a hard suck, and I stop thinking. It’s been so long since I had anyone decent in my bed. Just this little bit of physical attention has my core fluttering.

He slips an arm beneath me, tangling his fingers in my hair as he scrapes his fangs across my throat.

“All mine,” he says, a hint of growl in his voice, his chest vibrating with it. I want to rake my fingers down him, but I can’t. I tug against the bonds, but they only tighten around my wrists. The slight abrasion of the rope against my sensitive skin sends jolts of heat through me.

“All yours,” I say. And in that moment, I am. I can think of nothing I want more than for him to bury his face between my legs and make me scream.

Scream. I can hear screaming. The noise filters into my lust hazy mind. Where is it coming from? Why…

Suddenly, it’s as if the whole tent shifts. Alien Hottie vanishes, and I’m jolted awake from my idea of heaven into a scene straight out of hell.

I’m dangling from my seat, face down over a drop.

The escape pod has landed end on, and while some of the girls with me benefited from this, I did not.

My chest hurts, probably from slamming in to the restraints that are all that’s currently holding me in place.

I groan, trying to move my arms, but finding it tricky.

They don’t seem to want to obey my commands.

I just hope it’s numbness from my circulation being cut off, rather than something being broken.

Outside one of the small portholes on the escape pod, I can see dense forest and bird-like creatures that are definitely not any bird I’ve seen before.

Out of the others I can see some of my fellow escape pod passengers, most of them bloodied, and all looking shell-shocked.

There’s blood on some of the chairs around me and I just hope to whatever gods are out there that none of them have been killed or seriously injured.

They took this trip for the promise of a better life. They don’t deserve to die stranded on an undocumented planet.

“You okay up there, Liv?” a voice calls.

I look down and see Khadija staring up at me. She has a cut above her left eyebrow, but her eyes are bright and she looks otherwise unhurt. I let out a sigh of relief.

“Just great,” I say, keeping my tone upbeat, lest the torrent of emotions roiling through me right now overwhelms me. “I was having this really nice dream…”

“Did it involve not crash landing onto a jungle planet?” she asks, arching her uninjured eyebrow at me. Like me, Khadija deflects seriousness and fear with glib comments and stupid jokes. It’s why she’s my best friend out of the other lottery winners.

“It involved an attractive gentleman giving my breasts exactly the right sort of attention,” I say.

Khadija snorts. “Sometimes I wish I had your brain,” she says, climbing up on the seats towards me. “My dreams always involve being naked in the not very fun way.”

“First day on your bottom tier job?” I say, shaking my hands out in an attempt to encourage some feeling back in to them.

“Exactly. No attractive gentlemen. Just sneering bosses and laughing co-workers, and waking up with a lingering sense of terror that I’m going to be sent to the workhouse.”

“You’re right, that’s no fun.”

She heaves herself up, hooking an arm through one of the seat restraints as she balances herself on the arms of two of the seats.

“I’m going to unclip you, okay? You need to grab me when I do, pull yourself towards me so you don’t fall.”

“You’re not going to let me go, right? I’m not going to pull you down with me.”

Khadija shakes her head. “Warehouse worker, remember? I’m not going to let you fall, Liv. I got you.”

I nod. My heart is hammering, but I trust Khadija. She’s been climbing up on crates and moving heavy things in precarious circumstances since she was old enough to walk. A warehouse brat, through and through, she’s nimble on her feet and as strong as an ox.

“Okay,” Khadija says, reaching for the clip.

At first, I just sink a bit further down, the restraints catching on my shoulders.

I wince at the pain, but tug one arm free, reaching for Khadija with it.

I can feel my body slipping, but she grabs me with both hands, pulling me towards her.

I kick back with my feet, finding purchase on something, and use it to propel myself forwards into her arms. She staggers, but holds me, the two of us balanced precariously.

“Easy part’s over,” she says. “Now you just have to climb down.”

“You mean I can’t get a piggyback ride?”

She laughs, poking me in the stomach. “Not a chance. Just climb down the arms like a ladder. You’ll be fine.”

My shoulders are still burning, but I lower myself down, dangling my feet beneath me, a little further each moment, until I find the next seat.

My palms sweat enough to make my grip precarious and I don’t think it’s entirely fear.

The air is sticky, my hair clinging to my neck.

I think of the jungle outside. A tropical sort of jungle?

I reach the bottom of the escape pod and Khadija climbs down beside me, making light work of it. But her thick, dark hair is sticking to her face, her Mercenia Corp issued jump suit darkened with sweat in places.

“Did everyone else make it?” I ask.

Khadija nods. “We think Lorna’s wrist might be broken, but other than that, the girls are all good. Bumped and bruised and frightened, but not badly hurt.”

“And where exactly have we landed?”

Khadija’s expression turns grim. “Why don’t you come and see.”