3,99 €
Mehr erfahren.
- Herausgeber: Peryton Press
- Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
- Sprache: Deutsch
- Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2022
Ein außerirdischer Krieger in Schottland
Thorrn ist sicher, dass er bis ans Ende seines verfluchten Lebens allein bleiben wird. Äußerlich und innerlich gebrochen geht er davon aus, dass ihn keine Frau je begehren wird. Aber das ändert sich völlig, als er bei einer Mission auf einem fernen Planeten auf eine rotzfreche Erdenbürgerin mit feuerroten Haaren trifft, deren Temperament ihrem Äußeren in nichts nachsteht.
Eine Geschäftsfrau auf der Suche nach Liebe
Jenny hat es endlich geschafft, ihren gewalttätigen Freund zu verlassen und ist bereit, ein neues Leben zu beginnen. Bei ihrem neuen Job in einer Partnerschaftsvermittlung hatte sie nicht im Traum daran gedacht, auf einen Außerirdischen zu stoßen, der wie ein heißer Highlander aussieht.
Als der Alien ihr anbietet, sie vor ihrem durchgedrehten Ex-Freund zu schützen, ist sie versucht, sein Angebot anzunehmen. Außerdem will sie wirklich wissen, was er unter seinem Kilt verbirgt…
Aber als sie herausfindet, dass seine Leute vorhaben, sie wie eine Laborratte wissenschaftlichen Experimenten zu unterziehen, fragt sie sich, ob sie ihm mehr vertrauen kann als ihrem Verflossenen.
Wenn ihr auf heiße außerirdische Highlander in Kilts steht, starke Frauen, die sich nicht gerne sagen lassen, was sie tun sollen, und Happy Ends, dann taucht ein in die Welt der Starlight Highlander:
- Thorrn
- Eron
- Cyle
Das E-Book können Sie in Legimi-Apps oder einer beliebigen App lesen, die das folgende Format unterstützen:
Ähnliche
Thorrn (Sample)
Starlight Highlander Mail Order Brides 1
Skye MacKinnon
Copyright © 2021 by Skye MacKinnon
Peryton Press, Helensburgh.
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Cover by
Formatting by Peryton Press.
skyemackinnon.com
perytonpress.com
Contents
Glossary
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
About the Author
Blurb
An alien mercenary in Scotland
Thorrn only travelled to Earth to find women compatible with his species, even though he expects to stay alone for the rest of his cursed life. Broken inside and out, he's sure no female could ever want him. But that all changes when he sets his eyes on a sassy Earth woman with fiery red hair and a temper to match. With his mating instincts running wild, he will have to decide whether to claim her or return her to his planet to be studied by scientists.
A human businesswoman in search of love
Jenny has finally managed to leave her abusive boyfriend and is ready to start a new life. Promoting a new dating agency seems like just the project to distract herself with. While meeting an alien who looks like a hot Highlander wasn't part of her plan, when he offers to protect her from her crazy ex, she's tempted to take him up on his offer. Besides, she really needs to know what he hides beneath his kilt.
But when she finds out that his people intent to study her like a lab rat, can she trust him any more than her ex?
If you want hot alien Highlanders in kilts, strong women who don't like being told what to do, fated mates and happily-ever-afters, dive into the world of the Starlight Highlanders.
ThorrnCyleEronOther series in the Starlight Universe:
The Intergalactic Guide to HumansStarlight Reapers (coming soon)Chapter One
Jenny
My ex left me with a suitcase full of cut-up clothes, a key-scratched car and a broken arm. Good riddance.
I didn’t realise he’d destroyed all my clothes until I sat in my brother’s spare room. He’d taken one look at me, given me the biggest hug ever and told me I could stay for as long as I needed. My brother was the best.
That bastard Jason had done a great job. I only found a single top he hadn’t torn to pieces. At least I’d never agreed to give up my own bank account. We’d had a shared one to pay for the rent, food and bills, but my savings were safe, ready to be drawn on until I was back on my feet.
“Dinner’s ready!” Ewan shouted from downstairs. My stomach growled in response. My last meal had been yesterday evening, before the row that had ended in a trip to A&E. They hadn’t let me eat in hospital just in case I needed an operation, but luckily the break was clean and needed only a cast. When I’d arrived back home in a taxi, I’d found a suitcase next to my Mini. SLUT was sprayed on both driver doors. Jason was nothing if not petty. I’d make sure to tell the police all about it when I went to give my statement tomorrow. If he wanted war, he could have it.
I slowly walked down the carpeted stairs, wincing at the pain in my thigh. I couldn’t quite remember how I’d sustained the giant bruise. Maybe I’d bumped against the kitchen counter during the row. Not that it mattered. I grit my teeth and ignored the pain.
The sight of a ginormous lasagne made me smile. Ewan always knew how to cheer me up. He was a cook by trade, making fancy food at one of the city’s most exclusive restaurants, but when I visited, he always provided me with simple comfort food. As a bonus, I’d be able to eat the lasagne with just a fork, one-handed as I currently was.
“Smells delicious. Is Anna joining us?”
“No, she’s working the night shift and won’t be home until four. It’s just us, little sis.”
He grinned as he cut the lasagne in half. It would have been enough to feed a family of six, but I knew that the glass dish would be empty by the time we were done with it. He put a plate in front of me, so full that a trickle of cheese was slowly oozing onto the table. I picked it up and pulled a beautiful string of cheese, ready to be slurped like a spaghetti.
Ewan chuckled. “I see you still haven’t learned any table manners. Ma would be so disappointed.”
“Ma would do exactly the same and you know it.” Our mother was a hippie who’d married a simple crofter, giving us a unique upbringing far from the busy city we now lived in. Sometimes, I’d considered whether to move back to the Highlands, but there were no jobs there, at least not the kind of jobs I was interested in. One day, I might leave Glasgow for a smaller place, but for now, I was happy here. Well, except for my prick of an ex. I realised how quickly he’d changed from boyfriend to ex-boyfriend in my mind. I supposed it had been inevitable. All I’d needed was the right reason to leave. And a broken arm qualified for that.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Ewan asked after a few minutes of companiable silence.
“Not really. I’ll have to tell the police tomorrow, I think that’s enough.”
“Well, you know I’m here whenever you want to talk. Day or night. And you can stay for as long as you need to. The room’s been empty ever since Anna’s mum moved to that assisted living place, so we have space. And I like cooking for you.”
I laughed. “You’d think you’d never get to cook in your life.”
“It’s different making food for the people you love.”
“I suppose so.”
I’d never been as obsessed with food as my brother. I liked eating it, sure, but I was happy to let other people do the actual cooking. Jason hadn’t been half-bad at it, but he’d always made sure to let me know what a failure I was at homemaking. It didn’t matter that I earned more than him. In fact, it may have made things worse.
“How’s the job?” Ewan asked. “Any interesting new projects?”
“Yes, actually. I’ve got a meeting tomorrow with the owner of a dating agency. They want a big marketing campaign to find more people to sign up to their database. Apparently my pitch really impressed them and they didn’t blink an eye at the price of my premium package. I’ll probably be working with them for a couple of months at least.”
“A dating agency. Guess that’ll help if you want to get over that bawbag quickly.”
I shot him a look. “No, thanks. I’ve learned my lesson. I have the worst possible taste in men and I shall stay single for the rest of my days.”
Ewan snorted. “Are you saying you’re becoming a nun?”
“I never said I’d stay celibate.”
He covered his ears. “I don’t want to think about my little sister and sex. Ewww. Disgusting.”
"You should know by now how sex works. Remember when I found those magazines under your bed?"
His cheeks reddened until they almost matched the colour of his hair, the same ginger hair I was cursed with, except that his was a lot shorter and less curly. "Stop it or I'll evict you."
Despite his jovial tone, I couldn't help but flinch. It was still all too raw and fresh.
“Sorry,” he said immediately. “Not cool of me. I won’t throw you out, ever. And you know how much Anna loves you. I’m pretty sure that if she hadn’t married me, she would have taken you instead.”
I laughed. “I discovered that I’m not into women, sorry.”
“Discovered? How?”
“Didn’t you experiment while at uni?”
He blushed even more. “Not really. Those were different times.”
I rolled my eyes. “You’re seven years older than me. Not enough to pretend that you’re a different generation. So you never had a drunken thing with a guy?”
“Bloody no to the no. And if I did, I don’t remember. In fact, I don’t remember a lot of my uni days. I spent a lot of them hungover.”
“And here I was thinking that you studied hard like ma always told me when she presented you as the ultimate role model. Maybe I should tell her…”
“Don’t you dare. If you do, I’m afraid I might have to expose one of your secrets. But which one to choose? There are so many.”
I flicked a piece of melted cheese at him while at the same time wondering what secrets he had about me. Not that I was a very mysterious person. I wore my heart on my sleeve most of the time and I’d learned that playing poker was a quick way of losing money. I sucked at poker faces and keeping a hold on my emotions. At least that kept me honest. The only person I could successfully lie to had been Jason and that mostly because he didn’t pay much attention to me. When had I last had a proper conversation with him that didn’t turn into a row? I couldn’t say.
“You’re thinking about him,” Ewan said, proving my point. I couldn’t hide anything from my brother. “He’s not worth it. How about we open that bottle of Highland Park my boss gave me?”
“Your boss gives you whisky?”
“When I make her half a million quid with a deal, then yes, she does.” He grinned proudly. “She let slip that I might get a promotion at the end of the year. We can use the money for decorating the nursery.”
I gasped. “Nursery? Is Anna-“
“Not yet, but we’re doing our best. Every day.” He wiggled his eyebrows.
“I’m glad your bedroom isn’t right next to mine. I don’t need to hear my brother making babies.”
“With Anna’s current shift pattern, you don’t have to worry about that. You’ll be at work by the time she wakes up. I’ve been doing a lot of working from home recently.” Ewan laughed. “I’m a lot more productive after a good shag.”
He pulled a large bottle from the liqueur shelf. Our father was a big whisky fan and we’d grown up being dragged to distilleries across Scotland. After he’d seen them all, we’d started having family holidays over in Ireland. Right now, he was saving for a trip to Japan to visit some distillery he’d read about.
I swirled the golden liquid in my glass, resisting the temptation to go through the traditional steps of tasting whisky. My father had turned me into a connoisseur I didn’t want to be. When I’d left for university, he hadn’t warned me of staying away from horny boys and stuff like that. No, he’d warned me of the sin of mixing whisky with coke. I chuckled at the memory. Maybe I should take a few days off and visit my parents. A breakup was the perfect excuse. I didn’t want to admit to them that I missed their company, hugs and even their advice. I was a grown woman, after all.
By the time Ewan refilled my glass for the fourth time, I’d almost forgotten about my broken arm, my bruises and the fact that I was currently homeless. I was happier than I’d been in months.
“You should go to bed,” my brother said when I reached for the bottle again. His voice was slightly slurred. “You don’t want to be hungover during your interview tomorrow.” He looked at the clock above the kitchen door. “Today, actually. Time’s moving so bloody fast when you’re having fun.”
“You’re way too sensible,” I complained.
“It’s my responsibility as your big brother. Go on, bed time. I need to grab a few hours of sleep too. I don’t want to disappoint Anna tomorrow. That baby won’t make itself.”
I laughed harder than that joke was worth. Then cringed. Then wondered if I’d ever have a relationship as steady and loving as Ewan.
Probably not.
Chapter Two
Jenny
The investigator shook my hand on the way out. “Thanks for your statement. I wish every victim of domestic violence would be as willing to come forward and give evidence as you.”
“Not a victim,” I said automatically. “And you don’t have to thank me. I want him punished. Do you know how hard it is to put on a blouse while one of your arms is in a cast?”
She smiled. “Funnily enough, I do. How long do you need to wear yours?”
“Six weeks.”
“Lucky. I had mine for ten. My arm looked like it didn’t belong to me after they removed the cast, all pale and squashed. Prepare for lots of ingrown hairs.”
She led me back to the reception area. “I’ll be in touch as soon as I’ve talked to the CPS. This should be a relatively straightforward case, so I’m confident they’ll decide to charge him. Your obvious injuries as well as the statements from the neighbours paint a clear picture that should lead to a conviction. We might have to do something called a victim personal statement at some point in the future, which is basically what we did today plus giving you the chance to talk about how you’ve been affected by the abuse in the long term.”
“Is he still in custody?” I asked.
“No, he’s out on bail, but one of his bail conditions is that he’s not allowed to make contact with you in any way. If he does try attempt to get in touch, call me. If he turns up at your work or home, call 999.”
“And he’ll end up in prison?”
“I hope so. In the end, it depends on a lot of things. Best case he’ll get up to five years. Sadly, I’ve learned that we rarely get best case scenarios. But as I said, I’ll keep you informed. And please take advantage of the services mentioned on those leaflets.”
She’d given me a whole stack of flyers about charities and services for victims of abuse. I was planning to throw them in the bin. Not a victim. I was fine. My arm would heal, my bruises would fade, and it would all be just a bad dream. I was rid of Jason and I wouldn’t let him haunt me.
I left the police station with a smile. Maybe not the most natural reaction, but I was strangely happy and relieved. Now that this was dealt with, I could focus on more important things again. Like my job. I checked my smartwatch. I was running late to my first meeting with the dating agency. I’d planned to walk to their office, but it was time to splash out on a cab.
Pam’s office was cosier than my living room had ever been. Fluffy cushions, a thick carpet, colourful wallpaper and beautiful curtains all worked together in creating a warm, welcoming space. She’d made a large pot of coffee, but I was more interested in the jaffa cakes she’d put in a bright pink bowl in the centre of the table. The office was big enough to accommodate both a desk at one end and a round table with two funky chairs on the other.
“Is this where you talk to your clients?” I asked while she was pouring me a cup.
“Yes, whenever possible. Some people prefer to chat on the phone, but I always like having a conversation in person. It helps a lot to get an accurate impression of them. Sometimes, people turn out to be very different from how they looked on paper.”
“Makes sense. Will you be able to continue doing that, though? If this campaign is as successful as I’m planning it to be, you’ll get a lot of clients very quickly.”
Pam nodded. “I’ve hired two new girls to help me. And when I say girls, I mean that one of them is older than me.” I estimated her to be in her late forties, with a few streaks of grey in her curly auburn hair. “I just signed a contract to rent out the flat above me and we’re going to convert it to additional office space for them. In two weeks all three of us will be able to welcome clients. Steff is moving from part-time to full-time, giving her the chance to deal with all the extra admin.”
Steff was Pam’s assistant. I’d not talked to her besides a friendly hello on the way in, but she seemed lovely. One of those cheerful people who made you smile as soon as you saw them. She was about my age although she didn’t have my frown lines and heavy bags beneath the eyes.
“I need you to make a change to the campaign,” Pam said. “I only want to target females.”
“Wait, no men? Why? Are you wanting to turn this into a lesbian agency?”
Pam grinned. “No, although of course we welcome all clients, no matter the preferences. I’ve been contacted by a different agency who only have guys in their database. They gave me a glimpse at their roster and oh my sweet little Cupid, my ladies are in for a treat. For some reason, they’re all interested in Scottish females, so my agency is perfectly placed to work with them.”
“That’s amazing,” I said while already mentally adjusting my plans for the advertising campaign. Targeting just one gender was going to be easier, but it might also mean a lower budget. “Why do they only want Scottish women? Are they some kind of nationalist group?”
For some reason, Pam cackled with amusement. “Not quite. They’re…foreign, but with Scottish roots, and want to go back to their origins. Rekindle their culture or something like that. They were very clear in only wanting Scottish lasses, born and bred here. But they’re in for a surprise. I won’t discriminate against women with other backgrounds, so as long as they live in Scotland, they’re welcome to sign up. Those guys will just have to learn to deal with it.”
“The Scottish angle might be fun for the campaign,” I mused. “Men in kilts will be great for social media. So droolworthy.”
“They’re droolworthy for sure. These guys wear kilts all day, every day, not just for special occasions like the men do here. And while I’ve not asked if they were anything underneath…” She gave me a very suggestive wink. “I’m sure my ladies will be very pleased. I kind of wish I was single.”
“Careful what you wish for,” I muttered before I could stop myself.
“You’re single?”
“Aye. Newly. And happily.”
Pam gave me an understanding smile. “Well, if you want that to change, I can add you to the database. Free of charge. Actually, that might be a great way to give you a better idea of how we work. Yes, let’s do it. If you know the process our ladies go through, you’ll be able to convey the message better in your campaign.”
“No, that’s really not necessary,” I said but Pam was already grabbing her laptop, almost pushing her coffee cup off the table in the process.
“It’s not serious if you don’t want it to be,” she reassured me. “You won’t have to go on any dates, but I’ll let you go through all the steps leading up to that. Agreed?”
She looked so enthusiastic that I couldn’t say no. I’d always struggled with that, saying no. I knew some people took advantage of that, but in Pam’s case, it wasn’t malicious. She just enjoyed her job and wanted to share that joy with me. Oh well. As she said, I didn’t have to meet any guys. But would it be so bad if I did? I shifted a little and the pain from my thigh gave me a very clear answer. No more men. Not for a while, anyway. Being single was a lot healthier.
“I’ve got a meeting with the head of the other agency tomorrow,” Pam continued. “I’d like you to join us. I mentioned the campaign you’re planning for us and they were very interested. Maybe it’ll give you some more ideas now that the parameters have changed.”
I didn’t really need more ideas, my head was already swimming with them. Men in kilts. I could have them do all sorts of things. Exercise, yoga, weightlifting. Basketball or something where they had to jump, then do some shots from below, hinting at what might wait beneath the kilt…
I licked my lips. Tourists weren’t the only ones who found kilts appealing. I wasn’t talking about old guys at weddings. No, I was thinking of the kind of men you’d watch at the Highland Games, broad and burly and with thighs resembling the capers they were throwing. Heat travelled down to parts that hadn’t felt anything like that in way too long. Maybe going on a date with a hot Highlander wasn’t a bad idea after all.
"How tall are you?" Pam asked, her eyes fixed on her laptop screen. "Five six?"
"Five foot five. Is height important to them?"
"Not that I'm aware. I just like to have all the details in case there are questions or special preferences. Usually I'd take some pictures, but since this is just a test run, we can leave that unless you really want to."
"Nah, I'm fine." I much preferred being behind the camera.
"Alright, then you just have to fill in your hobbies, interests, what you're looking for in a man. You do that while I discuss something with Steff."
She handed me her laptop, leaving me to stare at the questions. I felt like this was an exam, worse than any I'd done at university. What were my interests? I'd had many before I'd met Jason. He'd become my one and only hobby.
The first few questions were what I had expected. What I did in my free time, my job, that sort of stuff. Typing was slow with just hand so I kept my answers as short as possible.
Would you be willing to relocate?
That was a hard one. Was I? A new start might do me good. Away from everything that could remind me of Jason. I could do my work from home but-
Why was I even thinking about it? This wasn’t real. I shouldn’t put all this thought and energy into it. I randomly clicked the ‘yes’ box and continued on to the section about what I was looking for. I grinned. Let’s have some fun.
Tall. Muscular. Kind. Sexy. Protective. Intelligent. Able to hold a conversation. Kilt wearer. Lots of abs. Six pack. Large dick.
I deleted that last bit. It wasn’t very professional and even though Pam was super nice, this was still a business relationship.
Thinking of my brother, I added ‘good cook’ instead.
Happy to share the house chores. Able to do DIY and use a power drill.
It was an inside joke. I’d once drilled a hole into my palm while using my dad’s drill. I rubbed the scar. Ever since, I’d left DIY things to others. I wasn’t to be trusted with sharp, dangerous, pointy devices that could bore holes into people.
“Are you done?” Pam asked. I hadn’t even realised her enter the office, lost in thought and memories.
“I think so. Not that it matters.”
“No, but now you know what our clients have to do to be entered into our database. Once they’ve done that, it’s time for the individual chat with me. Let’s skip that, I’m sure you have other things to do. Do you need time to adjust your campaign so that it’s only targeted to women, or shall we discuss it now?”
“Most strategies will stay the same, but I want to change our photoshoot to include men in kilts. The more Scottish the better, right?”
“Definitely. And I want to come to that shoot. For purely professional reasons, of course.” Pam grinned.
“Do you think it would be possible to get some of the males from the other agency involved? It would make it more realistic and show your prospective clients exactly what they might get.”
“Let’s ask in the meeting tomorrow. I’ve not actually met any of them in person yet; so far it’s all been online. They’re flying in tonight and will stay for a few days until we’ve got everything agreed on paper.”
“Where are they flying from?” The only places with a history of Scottish emigration that I could think of were Nova Scotia in Canada and New Zealand. Probably the United States and Australia, too. A friend of mine had once sent me a postcard from New Zealand with a picture of their version of Ben Nevis. Funnily enough, our Scottish Ben Nevis was our highest mountain, but smaller than the Kiwi peak. That was the only reason I knew about a Scottish diaspora on the other side of the world.
Would moving to New Zealand be so bad? It looked amazing in pictures. It was really far away from my family, though.
You’re not actually getting a sexy Highlander, I reminded myself. I had to stop pretending that I was really going to be in Pam’s database.
“I’m not sure. They’re coming by private plane though. So posh. The way they mentioned that in passing made me think that they have a lot of money.” She smiled happily. “Our cooperation will be a great boost for my agency. I might be able to give you a bonus at the end, if everything turns out well. Which I’m sure it will. What could go wrong with a campaign full of men in kilts?”
Chapter Three
Thorrn
I glared at the blue planet quickly growing larger beneath us. I didn’t have time for this. I had a fight to prepare for. I hadn’t trained for months just to be distracted by my brother’s latest desperate scheme. Unlike him, I’d long given up on our kind. Instead, I lived in the moment. Fighting. Bathing in the adoration of the masses. Challenging my body to the very limits. And enjoying all the luxuries my prize money afforded.
Cyle, on the other hand, was the eternal optimist. He still believed that we could find mates and ensure the survival of our species. Somewhere in the galaxy, he hoped, were compatible females. He’d dedicated his life and career to the search for mates. We used to be close, but our different perspectives on what was important had made us drift apart.
Until now. I looked at him as he was snoozing on the seat opposite. As always, it was like staring into a mirror. We weren’t twins but we were often mistaken for some. The same bright red hair that reached to our shoulders – although while he wore his loose, mine was braided tightly so it wouldn’t get in the way during a fight; the same green eyes, the same freckles sprinkled across a broad nose. Of course, I was a lot more muscular than him, my body toned from years of training, but just like all Albyans he had a naturally powerful build. His secondary arms were definitely thinner than mine, though. On the other hand, he still had both antennae. I’d lost my left one in a fight five years ago and my right one was permanently bent. Another reason why I wasn’t keen on the whole mate thing. No female would consider a male without working antennae. How else would we sense our own true mate?
We were getting close to breaking through the atmosphere. I had to admit that the planet looked pretty from afar, a gorgeous ensemble of blues and greens covered by white stripes in places. Albya was mostly land with large lakes and rivers instead of oceans. Our planet was also a lot smaller than Peritus, or Earth, as the natives called it. Not that it mattered, with our population soon to be extinct.
“Arriving in fifteen clicks,” the pilot announced. “It might get a little bumpy, the atmosphere’s thicker than what we’re used to.”
I checked I was still strapped in properly, then closed my eyes. I hated landings.
With the chameleon shields engaged, we’d parked on a landing strip full of Peritan aircrafts. They had a spaceport in this country, but it was primitive and nowhere near the city where we were going to meet the human female called Pam. Peritans had taken their first steps into space, but the Intergalactic Council hadn’t opened up communications with their government yet. Technically, we were going against IGC law by visiting the planet, but Cyle and his colleagues were desperate. As long as we wore our C-suits, we’d look like the natives and it wouldn’t count as First Contact. They were uncomfortable, especially because we had to keep our lower set of arms pressed against our bodies, but it was the only way to walk among the natives without sticking out as aliens.
If Cyle was right and we’d find compatible females here, we’d have to see what to do. It was the reason why he’d asked me to come along. For protection. Even though in the arena I fought with my four fists, I was well versed in both hand and spacecraft weapons. If worse came to worse, it was my responsibility to make sure my brother and the others were unharmed.
Not that I thought we’d end up with a fight. Peritans were puny and weak. I’d done some research during the flight here and wasn’t impressed by their species. Still, even though Cyle and I had become somewhat estranged, I had no doubt he had a good reason for coming here. He was Albya’s most eminent scientist and the Albyan Parliament had agreed to fund this research trip. I knew nothing about science and didn’t really care. I was only here because Cyle had asked me. Begged me to come, even. As my only remaining family member, I hadn’t managed to say no. Now we were on Peritus, a planet far from our own galaxy, looking for mates.
Cyle led us to a hotel not far from the airport. We got a few strange looks from Peritans, but our C-suits were working, I’d checked repeatedly. My brother had decided that our clothes were similar enough to what the natives wore, so all the C-suits hid were our antennae and secondary arms. We were taller than most Peritans but according to Cyle our height was still within natural parameters.
“Highland Games aren’t until next month!” a male shouted. I wasn’t sure what he was talking about, so I ignored him. He didn’t seem like a threat. It was confirmation though that our BrainTrain language sessions had been successful. I understood him as well as if he was speaking Albyan Prime. All those nights wearing the itchy implants had been worth it.
A group of females on the other side of the street giggled and pointed at us. I strained my damaged antenna in their direction, just in case one of them was my mate. I wasn’t sure if I’d even be able to recognise her with just one antenna. There were no females on Albya to practice on, not anymore.
“Do all their females look like them?” Jafar asked. He was Cyle’s colleague who’d been instrumental in establishing contact with a Peritan owner of a so-called dating agency. I hadn’t quite grasped the concept of it, but it seemed like they arranged relationships between mates. I had no idea how they did that. How could they match mates without them meeting each other? Peritans lacked mating antennae, but surely they had some other inbuilt mechanism to recognise their mates?
“I believe so, yes,” Cyle said, staring at the females. “I hope so. Just look at those legs.”
“Their legs? I’m admiring their breasts.”
I chuckled. Of course, he would. Jafar was a scientist like Cyle, but he was less reserved and polite than my brother. Even if Cyle liked the female’s breasts, he wouldn’t say so because it wasn’t proper. Our mother had made sure to teach us manners. We may have been without females for a long time, but neither of us had ever forgotten what she’d ingrained in us. Treat females with respect. Compliment them on their mind instead of on their body. Protect them without taking their independence. Still, I totally understood where Jafar was coming from. These females made my mouth water and my mating sack ache.
“Do you feel anything?” I whispered to Cyle, making sure Jafar couldn’t hear me. Even though my disability was obvious, I didn’t like to draw attention to my missing antenna.
“No, but they might be too far away. I’m not sure how close we have to get. We’ll find out tomorrow when we meet with Pam. She’s found mates for hundreds of Peritans. She’ll know.”
“A true expert then. How did you find her?”
“I hacked into their planetwide communications network called the world wide web. I don’t know why they broadcast it into space, but I’d never have found Pam otherwise, so I won’t complain. The Peritans must have their reason. Maybe they know about the IGC ruling and want to protest against being kept in the dark. Maybe it’s their way to attract travellers and traders to their planet.”
“I’ll go over and tell them I like their breasts,” Jafar announced. “Maybe that will activate my antennae.”
I grabbed him by the arms. “No, you don’t. We’ll wait until our meeting tomorrow. We don’t want to draw any attention to ourselves.”
He grumbled under his breath but didn’t make any attempts to join the females on the other side of the street. They were still shooting looks at us and it took all my will power to ignore them.
Using the Peritan web technology, Cyle had booked us three rooms in a hotel. Vaxx, our pilot, had stayed back on the ship, making sure none of the natives stumbled across it by accident. He wasn’t interested in females anyway, preferring the company of his own sex. Some days, I wished I was like him. I’d been with males, of course, most Albyans had to satisfy our urges, but it wasn’t what I wanted and needed, deep inside. I may have resigned myself to being without a mate for the rest of my life, but that didn’t mean my body didn’t crave the physical aspects of mating.
The Peritan male at the hotel reception handed us a strange card each. “Are you here for a wedding?”
I exchanged a look with the others, hoping they’d know what he was talking about.
“No,” Cyle said eventually. “We’re here on business.”
“Oh, right. I thought because of the kilts, you know. Don’t get many people here wearing them at this time of year unless they’re going to a wedding.”
Pit air iteig! Cyle had been convinced that our traditional dress matched what the natives wore. It’s why we’d come to this part of Peritus. The locals had strikingly similar looks and traditions which had made my brother hopeful that we’d find compatible mates here. Had our cover been blown not even twenty clicks after our arrival?
“We shall retire for the night,” I said quickly and turned away from the Peritan, hoping the others would follow my lead. It may be slightly rude, but I didn’t want to prolong this conversation.
“You’re on the second floor!” the male called after us. “Just swipe the cards to get into your room. Don’t lose them or you’ll be charged extra!”
We took a primitive vertical transport to the second floor. A long, bland corridor awaited us, leading to bland rooms. At least I wouldn’t have to listen to Cyle’s snoring. The walls on our ship were way too thin as I’d quickly discovered.
A menu with a list of food items lay on a table, but I wasn’t hungry. I also hadn’t asked Cyle if the food here was palatable for us. I simply took off my C-suit and went to bed, hoping the Intergalactic Authority wasn’t on the way to arrest us for breaking dozens of laws by landing on Peritus. I
Tomorrow, we’d know for sure if we’d finally found mates and with them, hope for the survival of all Albyans.
Continue reading Thorrn:
books2read.com/thorrn
About the Author
Skye MacKinnon is a USA Today & International Bestselling Author whose books are filled with strong heroines who don't have to choose.
She embraces her Scottishness with fantastical Scottish settings and a dash of mythology, no matter if she's writing about Celtic gods, cat shifters, or the streets of Edinburgh.
When she's not typing away at her favourite cafe, Skye loves dried mango, as much exotic tea as she can squeeze into her cupboards, and being covered in pet hair by her tiny demonic cat.
Subscribe to her newsletter:
skyemackinnon.com/newsletter
BookBub
Goodreads
Patreon
