Page 7 of Mates for the Raskarrans #1-6

“I would know your name,” he says, “I would have you know mine.” He leans in close, his face close enough to my ear that he could easily give it a little nibble. “I want you to know what name to scream out when I lick your pretty little cunt.”

Well, now. That’s more like it.

“My name is Liv,” I say, even though it feels weird. In the back of my mind I’m still thinking this is a dream and why wouldn’t he already know my name and why does it even matter, anyway. But then, dreams are weird. These ones especially so.

Must be something in the air. Must be.

He frowns. “Just ‘Liv’?” Do you not have a family name?”

“I do, it’s Cole.”

“Livcol,” he says, mulching the two syllables together.

“Two separate words. Liv. Cole.”

“Liv. Cole.”

I roll my eyes. “Just call me Liv, okay?”

“Liv,” he says again, turning my name into a near growl. I practically whimper at the sound. It’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard. “My Liv, my linasha. I will be the best mate to you. I will provide for all your needs.”

He nuzzles my neck as he speaks, his voice sending delicious shivers through me, even as his words have me raising my eyebrows. Mate? What?

The sexy alien hunk thing, I get. Girl in her last few days of life desires a break from the hardships and fear. Nothing is a better distraction than a guy who knows exactly what to do with his tongue. But mate?

For starters, mate, the word, mate? It makes me sound like I’m an animal and he wants to breed me.

I could curse my treacherous body for shivering at the thought.

Okay, maybe this is just some sort of sex fantasy I never knew I had. Not that I’m actually so scared that I’ve conjured myself up a bloke who isn’t just sex on legs, but a saviour, too.

No. I will not get suckered in to being Miss Positive Attitude.

I’m jaded for a reason. Bad things happen.

My sister fucking died out here somewhere.

Alpha Colony isn’t what the marketing material promises it will be, so even if Mercenia Corp did decide to rescue us, what would they even be rescuing us to?

I am going to die out here on this beautiful, beautiful planet.

I will not get my hopes up, only to have them shattered. Dying is bad enough. I won’t put myself through heartbreak over it, too.

“Your eyes are far away,” my alien says.

“Yeah, just thinking.” I look up at him. “Weren’t you going to tell me your name so I can start screaming it?”

I try to flutter my eyelashes alluringly, but I feel detached all of a sudden, like I’m only half here. I’m going to wake up, I think, and when I concentrate on the sensation, I realise why.

“I can hear screaming again,” I say.

My alien grabs me by the arm. “Where are you?”

“What?” I say. I feel like I’m being stretched, one half of me anchored here by his hand, the other half struggling to consciousness.

“Where are you, linasha, my Liv? Tell me where you are so I can find you.”

“Beach,” I say, and I’m not sure why. He’s not real. He’s not going to find me.

“I am coming for you. I am coming as fast as I can. Do not lose hope, my Liv. Keep yourself safe. I cannot, I will not, lose you now.”

Then he draws me in to a sharp hug. For a moment, I feel whole and together and safe. So very safe. Then he lets me go, and the dream crumbles around me as I fall back into consciousness.

And wake in a nightmare.

There’s a creature on the beach. It looks like one of Earth’s large cats.

The kind that went extinct in the wild decades ago, but still exists in menageries of rich people, or the pages of a well-thumbed encyclopaedia hidden under the pillow of a young girl in the slums. I can recall the pictures and the names that went with them - leopard, cheetah, jaguar, lion.

Whatever this creature is, it’s not those.

Similar in shape, perhaps, with four legs, a tail and large, predatory teeth.

But this creature also has four lashes that stem from somewhere on its neck, barbed at the end.

It flicks them outwards, kicking up sand where they swipe the ground.

It snarls, and I think it must be hungry - I can see ribs beneath its fur.

Hungry and desperate. A dangerous combination in any species.

The other women have scrambled to their feet and away from the creature, but the water is behind us, offering no refuge.

A couple have made it to the escape pod, but the side of that is ripped open wide enough for the cat thing to get through.

They could climb up on to the chairs, perhaps, but this thing has got wicked sharp claws to go with its teeth and I suspect it’s a far more skilled climber than any of us.

I wonder why we aren’t all mauled to death already. The cat-thing has the claws and the teeth it needs to make quick work of us. I can only think that it is nervous because it’s never seen anything like us before.

Or that it’s afraid of fire.

I lunge towards the fire, grabbing the end of one of the branches.

Fortunately, whoever was on watch must have just put in more fuel, as there are a number of sticks that are flaming nicely on one end, but not encased in flame entirely.

I hold the one I’ve grabbed out in front of me, brandishing it like a weapon.

The cat-thing snarls at me, but it doesn’t get any closer. I wave the burning branch back and forth, edging closer.

Its lashes fly towards me, and I swing towards them, trying to bat them away. I strike one of them, and the cat-thing yowls in pain, but a searing pain in my arm tells me it got a blow in. I have one weapon - it has four. This isn’t going to go in my favour.

But then Ellie is at my side, swinging her makeshift spear, the blade glinting in the firelight. Khadija steps up on my other side, wielding her own burning branch. Others join us. Girls whose names I don’t know. Seeing their determination overriding their fear makes me regret that.

The cat-thing hisses, then starts backing up.

It could probably still do us some damage if it wanted to, but its eyes track back and forth between us, assessing its chances and clearly deciding that it’s not worth the risk.

I press forwards, shouting at it to go away, not wanting to give it a moment to change its mind.

After a moment of indecision, the cat-thing turns tail and runs.

The other girls cheer, returning their branches to the fire and exchanging hugs. I watch the edge of the forest a little longer, the trees looming in the darkness, before returning my branch to the fire. Ellie remains with her eyes trained on the trees, hand gripping her spear tight.

“I don’t like this,” she says when I step up beside her. “It knows we’re here now. If it’s hungry, it won’t stray far.”

“How do you know?” I ask.

Ellie turns to me, the light of the fire glinting off her dark eyes. “Because it’s what I would do.”