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Mia Reynolds hummed beneath her breath as she inspected the plants growing in the greenhouse dedicated to her experiments. She’d been working on developing highly nutritious, drought-resistant strains of various cereal grains her entire career. The tray of newly sprouted oat seedlings in front of her represented one tiny step along the path to ending world hunger.

These seedlings could do that without requiring tons of chemical fertilizers and pesticides to grow, the way genetically modified corn did. Or any corn, for that matter.

At least, she hoped they could. Many tests lay in front of these tiny plants, tests and a whole lot of hope.

She bent toward them and said softly, “You can do it, little oatlings.”

“I think they’re going to need more than encouraging words, Mia.”

Mia stood and turned toward her research assistant, grinning at his dry remark. Peter Streible stood half a head taller than her five feet five inch height, his lanky runner’s build nearly lost in the folds of his oversized lab coat.

“Be nice,” she admonished. “They’ll hear you.”

He rolled his eyes. “They can’t really understand you.”

She patted him on the shoulder on her way toward the door. “It’s all in the tone of voice, Peter.”

Mia ignored his muttered reply as she exited into a sunny California afternoon. The greenhouse had been muggy even with the fans on, but outside, the weather was a perfect mid-seventies. Fluffy white clouds floated in a crisp, blue sky, and if she tried really hard, she could almost ignore the sounds of Sacramento’s traffic filtering to her from the nearby highway.

Mia sighed happily. And it was Friday, too. Date night. Well, girls’ night out, since she wasn’t dating anyone at the moment, but close enough, right?

She wrinkled her nose at the faint longing lodged in her chest. Her thirtieth birthday was approaching, and with it hints from her parents for grandchildren. Mia wanted children, someday. She just hadn’t found the right partner yet. None of the men she met seemed right. None seemed to fit well into her life.

But she wasn’t desperate yet, just lonely. She still had time to find Mr. Right, to create the deep, enduring bond that had carried her parents across six continents and thirty-five years of marriage.

Didn’t she?

Peter trailed behind her as she headed toward her lab, finally catching up as they entered the nearest side door of the Plant Sciences wing of the Center for the Advancement of Humankind. The research center was a global cooperative between governments, businesses, and concerned individuals, dedicated to promoting the prosperity and well-being of all humans. Hundreds of researchers worked there in a wide variety of fields, everything from the sciences and technologies to political and cultural studies. Research covered anything that could advance humanity into the next century, including space exploration, though humans hadn’t made it much farther than Mars yet.

Mia’s research was critical to that movement. She’d gained a passion for science from her parents, both leaders in their respective fields, and had paired it with a natural compassion developed during a childhood spent in the dozens of different countries her parents visited for work. After seeing the effects of poverty and poorly used resources in Third World countries, how could she not want to make a difference?

And she’d always loved nature, had always been fascinated by the way plants evolved and adapted to their environments. What better way to forward humanity than by helping evolution shape the next generation of food plants?

Peter veered toward the stairs leading to their second-floor lab.

“I’m going to grab a snack from the cafeteria,” Mia said. “Need anything?”

He flashed an irreverent smile at her. “Two blonde babes and a stack of pizzas?”

“I’ll take that as a no.”

“Party pooper.”

She laughed. “Back in a minute. Don’t start the fun stuff without me!”

He opened the heavy fire door and stepped into the stairwell. “You’re the only person I know who thinks splicing genes is fun.”

The door shut behind him, and Mia tucked her hands into her lab coat, humming as she continued down the hallway. Up ahead, the Plant Sciences wing emptied into the main lobby of Research Building 3, a cavernous, glass-fronted room planted on one side of the massive quad in the middle of the CAH complex.

A group of fellow researchers stood facing the quad, talking excitedly among themselves. Mia stopped beside her colleagues and fellow girls’ night out participants, Kira Patel and Leona Hayes. The three met in the cafeteria not long after Mia took a junior research position, then discovered a shared passion for creating a better future. It had only taken one late-night bar hop session for them to discover their other shared passion: searching for the man of their dreams.

Kira and Leona were night and day in appearance, one short, curvy, and brunette, the other tall, svelte, and blonde. But they were the best of friends and Mia loved them dearly.

“What’s going on?” Mia said.

Leona popped a Nordic blonde eyebrow at her. “You’ve been buried in your plants too long, hon. Listen.”

Kira waved an elegant hand at the glass wall, jangling the dozen or so bangles she wore. “Or look.”

Mia turned toward the glass wall, aware now of a distinct thrum reverberating through her bones. The manicured lawn stretching between them and the other CAH research buildings was dotted with people staring into the sky. A few started yelling, a few more running, and soon, the entire quad emptied.

Mia followed the glass wall up and goggled. A huge, ovoid aircraft slowly descended from the sky, its metallic surface seeming to absorb sunlight. Gusts of heated exhaust roiled around the strange craft. The trees lining the sidewalks bent and shook in its wake.

“Look at the size of that thing,” Kira whispered. “I’m surprised it fit.”

“I heard you said the same thing to your last lover,” Leona said dryly.

Mia shot them both a quelling glance. “Is the tech wing working on a new airplane design?”

“Oh, hon,” Leona said. “That’s not an aircraft.”

“More like a take me to your leader craft.” Kira snagged Mia’s elbow and squeezed gently. “I’m getting a bad feeling about this.”

Mia placed a hand over the knot in her stomach. “I think your bad feeling’s catching. Maybe we should leave and let security deal with this.”

Leona shot them both an exasperated look. “Are we scientists or what? Especially you, Kira. What happened to exploring the stars, meeting alien species, and all that Star Trek jazz?”

“It’s a little different when the aliens show up on your front door,” Kira muttered.

“We don’t know that they’re aliens,” Mia said. “It could still be a tech-side experiment.”

Her voice trailed off as an opening appeared in the side of the craft. Roughly a dozen humanoid creatures stepped off the edge and dropped into crouches beside the ship. Humongous male humanoid creatures with gray-brown skin, horns curving away from their foreheads, and the muscled builds of weightlifters barely contained by what looked like skintight wetsuits.

Leona sucked in a sharp breath. “My panties just melted off my hips.”

“You don’t wear panties,” Kira reminded her.

The men stood and split up, most skirting the ship while two approached Research Building 3.

Straight toward where Mia and her friends stood.

“First contact time,” Leona breathed. “Dibs on the big one.”

Mia eyed the two males rapidly striding toward them. “ Which big one?”

A low murmur filled the lobby and several of the other scientists gathered there began backing away.

Kira shifted her stance and glanced nervously around. “Can we leave now?”

Mia risked another glance outside. The two males were already at the top of the steps, just a few feet from the double-doored entrance. A moment later, one yanked the left door open and stepped inside, followed closely by the other.

Up close, they appeared far larger. Nearly seven feet tall, Mia thought faintly, and starkly beautiful in a very alien way. Their features vaguely resembled humans, with two bright green eyes, long, hooked noses, and strong, sensuous mouths. Five fingers on each claw-tipped hand, enough muscles for three men each, and a promising bulge at the juncture of their thighs.

Despite the warning growing in her gut, Mia’s heart stuttered into a full gallop and butterflies danced in her stomach. Holy Hannah. Those guys were potent, and they were just as clearly not human .

The men, or whatever they were, stopped just inside the entrance, their gazes dispassionately scanning the crowd. The one on the right glanced down at the oversized watch affixed to his wrist.

“We are looking for females,” he said in lightly accented English. “Surrender peacefully and you will not be harmed.”

The lobby broke into chaos as people turned and fled.

If that bothered the aliens, it didn’t show. The one on the right ran his flat gaze across the lobby, going straight past Mia and her friends. Immediately, his gaze swung back, focusing on her with an intensity hot enough to melt steel. His odd green eyes flicked down her body and up, then locked onto her face.

Their gazes met and held. Something zinged between them, a hint of recognition or rightness or something . Mia’s breath fled and her head went dizzy. A scene from a RomCom flitted through her mind, of a love at first sight meet-cute. Two strangers locking eyes across a crowded ballroom.

But she didn’t believe in love at first sight. She believed in mutual respect and friendship and a long, slow-build courtship involving pizza, shy kisses, and romantic walks along the river.

With a normal human man, not an alien with biceps bigger than her thighs.

A low growl rumbled in the alien’s chest. “Mine,” he snarled, then he stalked toward her, his determined strides eating up the distance between them.

Mia’s legs trembled and she gulped. Oh, God. He’d said that to her . By the look on his face, he had only one thing on his mind, and it had nothing to do with pizza and long walks.

Kisses, oh yes, many, many kisses, but there’d be nothing shy about them, not with him. This male would devour her whole, if she let him. The thought sent a delicious shiver down her spine and her thigh muscles clenched together.

“Oh, fuck,” Leona said. “Run.”

Mia didn’t need to be told twice. She fled, her heart thudding in time to the rapid clicks of her heels.

Zoran Kerus stalked toward his assigned building’s entrance, quelching mild irritation at having to hunt down the females promised to his people in exchange for certain Xeruvian technologies. The piddling human bureaucrats he and the other warlords dealt with in the past few days had been all too willing to take. But when it came to giving, the humans were no better than sniveling thieves, skulking among the shadows.

Eirik Drakon, a fellow warlord, raised his left hand, flashing the wristcom affixed to his forearm. “Five of the target females work in this facility.”

Zoran nodded and checked his own wristcom to confirm. While Aklan Phyrz, the most diplomatic of the warlords, had been negotiating a treaty with the humans, Nyklan Zikri and Thorian Kael, two other warlords, had quietly sifted through human databases and genetic samples, searching for females of an appropriate age and status, aided by information given to them by an ally among the humans: Scientists to help them rebuild their species, females young enough to handle the rigors of life on Zephyria, unmated and childless, but fully capable of bearing and rearing young.

They’d selected as large a pool as they’d dared from among key scientific centers, then chosen this one not far from Earth’s largest ocean as a starting point. If the warlords succeeded in capturing every female on their list from this facility, they could return to Zephyria without having to risk a military response from the puny humans by raiding others.

On this trip, anyway.

Zoran yanked open the building’s glass door, nearly ripping it off its hinges. Humans gawked at him and Eirik. Zoran was of half a mind to bare his teeth at them, just to show them their place in the universe. Humans were weak little creatures, prey, good for little more than breeding, if Nyklan’s research proved true.

Xeruvian warlords, on the other hand, were predators, their bodies honed by decades of training and war.

Even as their species shrank to nearly unsustainable levels.

A dull, familiar ache gripped him, grief and guilt and longing. Once again Zoran cursed the disaster that had decimated his people, claiming the lives of his father and sister, and the virus that had nearly dealt the final blow when it killed off the remaining fertile females. Three years spent searching for a cure, for salvation, had led them here, to these pathetic little aliens, whose females might hold the key to saving the Xeruvian race.

Eirik stepped into the building beside Zoran and glanced around, his bright green eyes flaring dangerously. “Be afraid, little klika ,” the other warlord murmured.

Zoran grunted. He’d trained many years with Eirik and the other warlords who’d journeyed with them into the far reaches of the galaxy to negotiate for breeding females. They’d become fast friends long ago, though each headed different clans. When Zoran’s deceased sister’s mate Nyklan, one of the other warlords, stepped forward with his solution, Zoran had formulated a plan, one Eirik had endorsed by fang and claw. One by one, the other warlords had been swayed, only to journey here and have the humans betray them.

Zoran clicked his teeth together in amusement. As if denying a warlord his due could stop him from taking it. Words. Bah. Humans lacked the technology to deter them. Just look how easy it had been to insert the Xeruvian battle cruiser into the planet’s atmosphere and hide their landing from human warriors.

His amusement died. And these were the creatures Nyklan advised breeding with? How could they rebuild their strength with beings such as these?

Zoran glanced around at the crowd, noting the uneasy glances, the hunched shoulders. Good. They feared him. That might make this easier.

“We are looking for females,” he growled. “Surrender peacefully and you will not be harmed.”

Before his final word left his lips, the little klika scattered, all but a handful who watched him and Eirik with wary expressions. Well, that hadn’t gone as planned. Now he’d have to chase the females down. At least that would burn off some of the restless energy eating at him. He hated being cooped up in a ship, and they’d been cooped up for entirely too long during the negotiations, only to be thwarted at every turn.

He allowed his gaze to roam over the humans who’d stayed, then swung back to a fragile female wearing a long white coat over a short skirt. A primal instinct roared to life within him and a low growl welled up.

Mine .

His cock hardened and a crimson rage filled his mind. If he’d been on Zephyria, surrounded by the jungles filling his home jutji , he would’ve thrown back his head and roared his triumph for all to hear, heedless of the danger. He felt that strong, that brave, that fierce. When he looked at the tiny female standing just out of his reach, his entire being coalesced into a singular thought.

Claim her .

At a word from one of the other females, his female gasped and fled. A dark grin stretched his mouth, baring sharp fangs as he stalked after her. Good mate, letting him chase her, as was proper and right. This was one hunt he intended to enjoy.

The yellow-haired female that had sent his female running stepped into his path, her chin held at a defiant angle. “Leave her alone, you alien thug.”

Zoran flicked his wrist, activating the sedative hidden within his wristcom. “You will make a fine mate, klika .” But not for him.

Her eyes widened and she turned and fled as the other scientists had. Zoran caught her in two strides, subduing her easily despite a credible effort on her part to thwart him. Quickly, he released an aerosolized dose of sedative into her face. Her eyes rolled back in her head and she slumped against him.

Though every cell in his body urged Zoran to chase after his mate, he carried the female to the door and laid her gently beside it, where she would not be hurt, in deference to both her femaleness and to her future mate, whomever he might be. Quickly, Zoran retrieved a restraint band and secured it around her wrist, then activated it. The ship’s medical team would retrieve her, leaving Zoran free to continue tracking down the other females on their list.

His female first. Her scent lingered where she’d stood beside the other two females. He strode back to that spot and inhaled deeply, absorbing the scents eddying around him, sorting them instinctively. The third female had run ahead of his, down the same corridor to the left. His tracker could pinpoint them, but he knew their scents now. They could not escape him.

Zoran broke into a slow jog, following their scents, one light and floral, the other, his female’s, subtly sensual. The scents broke apart at the end of the hallway. The other female’s disappeared at a heavy door to his right.

Later , he vowed.

His female’s scent continued forward. Zoran pushed through a door leading outside, then stalked down a walkway and entered a strange, arced building made of an unknown green material. The air inside felt blessedly muggy after the exterior’s dryness, almost like the jungles of home, and Zoran’s shoulders relaxed under his skinsuit.

He sniffed once, testing the air, and caught the scents of soil, chemicals, and growing things. Buried among those scents was a hint of something else, an alluring smell that made his muscles tense and his cock twitch beneath his armor.

His female.

He bared his teeth in a challenging grin and let the building’s door flap closed behind him. “Here, little kikla . You cannot hide forever.”

A gasp filtered to him, scarcely audible above the two fans humming at either end of the building. The gasp had come from the far side, somewhere beyond the central raised row of seedlings. Zoran stalked toward it and spotted a sliver of white cloth peeking from behind a stack of soil sacks, under another rack of seedlings.

Without hesitation, he batted the soil aside and squatted beside the female crouched under the rack. Dark, untidy hair surrounded a narrow face and her Earth-blue eyes shone wide and afraid as she looked up at him.

Pleasure rumbled in him. The mating chase had ended with him victorious, as it should.

With one claw-tipped hand, he snagged the female’s ankle and dragged her out of her hidey hole into his arms. She struggled briefly, and he tightened his grip, suppressing her resistance.

Foolish female. She could not win against him.

He buried his face against her throat, nearly lost to the haze of amazement and need surging through him. She felt so small against him. Yet her heat warmed him and her curves seemed to fit snugly into the planes of his much larger body. Holding her felt good. It felt right, as if part of him had been missing and had now returned to him.

He licked her throat, needing to taste her, to memorize every aspect of this fascinating gift he’d been given. “Mine,” he growled softly, unable to resist the urge to claim her in some way, though time was short and he had other females to capture.

The female gasped and squirmed, her struggles evoking the most delicious heat within him. “What are you doing? Why are you here?”

Her voice sounded sweet and musical even through the implanted translator Thorian had developed for them. Sweet, musical, and defiant .

Zoran groaned, fighting the urge to strip off her clothing and bury his cock in her. Had to get her back to the ship. Had to lock her away before the others saw her and tried to stake a claim. My female , that inner instinct rumbled, and Zoran stroked his horn against her temple.

Never would he give her up .

Quickly, he drew back long enough to administer the sedative Nyklan had devised specifically for subduing the human breeders. His female’s eyes widened as the thin mist eddied around her face. She coughed once, then her eyelids fluttered closed, and she slumped in his arms.

He cradled her to his chest, mindful of her slightness. Such a precious, fragile creature his female was. Such a wonderful fighter, unlike the sniveling bureaucrats who had betrayed them.

Perhaps Nyklan was right. Perhaps these human females were stronger than they appeared.

Claim her .

Zoran shook free of the mating haze and surged to his feet, carefully arranging her over his shoulder. The mating instinct might be strong, but his need to save his people, to atone for the sins of his past, was stronger still. It had to be, or they would not survive.

He checked the tracker again, marked this female off the list, then returned to the hallway and caught the other female’s scent. The sooner he and the other warlords retrieved the chosen females, the sooner they could leave, and the sooner he could begin wooing the female he’d caught and claimed as his own.