Born of Klaxis nobility, I gave up my crown to be master of my own fate. For the thrill of pilfering a spacecraft, the reaving of treasure, to harness the unbridled expanse of the cosmos—these are the lifeblood of my existence. I cannot, will not, trade the rush of my pirate blood for the soft prison of domesticity, no matter how sweet the captivity.
My weft pulses at the thought of her, a cruel reminder of the pleasure we shared. A pleasure potent enough to bind, but I am resolute. I am the hunter, not the hunted; the captor, not the captive. My sivot bellows its dissent, white-hot fury churning inside me. But as the starscape stretches out before me, vast and full of unknown adventures, I shove down the beast's cries and set my sights on the horizon.
My sivot may rage, may claw at the confines of my control with memories of her beneath me, but I will not succumb. I refuse to be trapped by my own desires, ensnared by a bond that will anchor me to one spot, to one female.
My path is among the stars, my destiny written not in the lines of a fated mate’s palm, but in the hidden treasures that await across the galaxy. My future lies beyond, in the uncharted realms of space where the only bonds are those I choose to forge. The hunt for Glaxis 3's treasure beckons, a challenge worthy of my undivided attention for the truest treasure I seek may not be one of glittering jewels or ancient artifacts, but the freedom to roam the cosmos, unbound and unclaimed.
The void of space envelops the freighter like a lover's embrace—a cold, indifferent one. Stars pinprick the darkness with their unforgiving light as I navigate through the galaxy where Pryt lies nestled within. My fingers dance over the control panel, each movement precise despite the chaos brewing within me.
Jules.
Her name is a pulse in my blood, a whisper against my skin. I can still feel the silken slide of her hair between my fingers, and taste the salt of her sweat on my tongue. The way she arched beneath me, her glistening tunnel a perfect fit.
"Bliking dund," I mutter, dragging a hand down my face. It's not like me to let a female weave her way into the fabric of my thoughts, disrupting the pattern of my solitary existence.
But she has!
Frustration coils tighter inside me. My sivot growls, a low rumble in my chest that reverberates through the ship's hull. My beast wants to turn back, to claim what he perceives as ours. But it's my hands on the controls, my will that steers this course.
My freighter clears the galaxy for open space. I set a course, engage the truliian converter, and hyper-jump with a pound of my fist. The stars blur into streaks of light, painting ribbons of luminescence across the viewport as my ship hurtles through the cosmic tapestry. Bright nebulae bloom and fade in the dense blackness, their ethereal hues casting a kaleidoscope of colors against the backdrop of infinity. The force of speed presses me back into my seat, a thrilling velocity as I ship follows the course set into the navigation system.
The ship slows and Glaxis 3 comes into view. An inhospitable moon orbiting a gas giant, an inhospitable jewel shrouded in a noxious fog.
I can't help but grin as the excitement bubbles up from the pit of my stomach, chasing away the lingering shadows of regret. This is who I am. The chase, the hunt—it's in my blood as much as any royal lineage ever was.
Glaxis 3 is a contradiction. Its surface is marred by craters, the scars of cosmic battles fought long before my time. Mist curls around jagged peaks like serpents, a veil that hides the secretsbelow. The air is thick with fog that glows an eerie green from the bioluminescent foliage clinging to the rocks.
"Beautiful and deadly, just how I like it," I whisper, admiring the lethal elegance of the landscape. It reminds me of her—of Jules. But that thought I push aside, focusing instead on the thrill of discovery, on the legendary treasure that awaits.
"Let's see what you're hiding," I challenge the moon.
With deft maneuvers, I guide the ship toward the surface, my heart pounding in sync with the engines. Each beat is a step away from Pryt, from Jules, and a step closer to the unknown. And nothing, not even my sivot writhing for a fated mate, can tether me to the ground when the stars call my name.
I pocket my scanner and clip a tracker to my belt so I can attach the oxygenator to my septum and activate it. A blast of crisp, pure air rushes up my nostrils, shielding me from the toxic surroundings I’m about to enter. The hatch releases with a sharp exhale and the ramp lowers.
My boots crunch over the uneven terrain, leaving shallow impressions in the soft soil. I can't shake the ghost of Jules' touch from my mind, her scent clings to me like a second skin despite the fresh air filling my lungs.
"Focus, Behtu," I mutter to myself, trying to concentrate on the task at hand. The tracker beeps irregularly, insisting there's something valuable buried beneath the layers of alien detritus. I pull the scanner from my pocket and sweep the foggy expanse, its lights piercing through the gloom like the eyes of some hungry creature.
The world around me is a surreal garden of oddities—trees with bark that shimmers iridescent under the eerie light, and plants that seem to move just out of the corner of my eye. It's an artist's fever dream, a riot of color and shape that begs exploration. Yet it's the unexplored corners of Jules' soul that beckons me more strongly than any alien treasure could.
“Bliking dund!” I growl and curse as my foot catches on a root, nearly sending me sprawling. My sivot roars inside, clawing at my control, enraged by the distance I’ve put between him and Jules.
I force my sivot back into the depths of my being. But it's a battle I'm slowly losing, the sivot's fury is a tempest against which my will stands fragile and wavering.
So absorbed with my internal struggle, I don't see the Stryt until it's too late. A shadow detaches itself from the surrounding darkness, and before I can react, pain explodes in my neck. I reach up, fingers brushing against a dart protruding from my flesh.
"Bliking Stryt—" My curse is cut short as my knees buckle beneath me. The ground rushes up to meet my face, and the last thing I feel is the cool embrace of the toxic moon before everything fades to black. My sivot howls in protest, a sound only I can hear as consciousness slips away, the darkness swallowing me whole.
JULES
I lie awake in bed, my body as tense as a coiled spring. The darkness of the room is thick, almost suffocating, but it's not the absence of light that keeps me from sleep, it's Behtu and his enigmatic sivot.
If the beast only presents to protect damsels in distress, then why did it feel more personal? I didn’t require help and even if I did, why did he fuck me like he owned me?
Mine!The sivot claimed me as he trapped me on his knot and spilled a gallon of beast jizz inside me that I can still feel dribbling out.
My body pulses with a lingering heat, a sweet soreness between my thighs as I recall the sensation of two different cocks stretching my flesh as they filled me. Hot shivers race down my spine, hardening my nipples in response. Behtu and his beast are irresistible, drawing me in like an addict to forbidden fruit.
