The Odyssey Of Azimuth: An Alien Romance
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Jeordie Draven
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Beyond the Stars
“If you don’t want her, I’ll take her.”
It wasn’t what Razul said, it was how he said it that pissed off his older brother, Azimuth, an up-and-coming senator for his father’s cabinet on their planet of Galaxtia.
“You’ll do no such thing. I know how you will ‘take’ the women back to Lorr, little brother.” Azimuth’s green eyes flickered with remembrances of Razul’s handling of Earth women, or any woman for that matter.
His light-turquoise skin and shoulder-length ebony hair stood out in stark contrast to Razul’s light-red leathery tone, dirty-blond curls, and shorter stature. The two tiny horns on Azimuth’s forehead looked like large pegs, while his brother’s were prominent and curved, black as night and settled at the top back of his head. Both Galaxtans were incredibly built and showed off their brute appearance.
“Fine. You take the wench back to the capital. I have other plans.” Razul was a warrior and a damned good one, but it was all he thought about: fucking and fighting.
The second moon they’d landed on had them seeing meetings for days with the leaders. Azimuth was interested; Razul was bored to pieces.
They had another drop to make on Ciras with the human females who were to be mated and then either killed or abandoned to another planet or possibly married off.
“There are six here?” Azimuth asked his brother again, much to the impatience of Razul.
“Seven if you’re including the brat.”
The brat.
The little woman who’d dared fight the guards and even Razul until they had to knock her out with their auras.
“Yes, the brat.” Azimuth nodded. “You’ll be sure to let Father know of any goings-on when you return?”
“Only mine, brother.” Razul smirked. “Not your giant orgy…”
Azimuth sighed, his long tendril stiffening on his backside, beckoning to slap the shit out of his brother. “This is why I’m taking them, Razul. There will be no mating with the Earth women.”
Razul’s face said it all. He’d taken the docile six but couldn’t get even an inch of himself into the brat. “She bit me.”
Azimuth chuckled, his low rumble causing the brat to gaze up at him from across the ship.
“I want to get off this fucking planet,” Razul said as Azimuth continued to watch the brat watch him…her big, curious eyes commanding him—not scared, not worried—just angry, lost, and bitter toward all of them.
She was a fighter, but she was tiny, and she held her heart on her sleeve. Her gaze shifted from his to the crying Earthwoman next to her. She wrapped an arm around the other hostage and whispered something to her, which seemed to calm the hysterical woman down.
“She was a medic of some sort,” Razul was saying to his brother. “During the last abductions, they took her while she was on her lunch break.”
“How long has she been a prisoner of Galaxtia?”
“About six months.”
“Six months?”
“Yes, no one wants a smart-ass.”
That was typical. If a mate was undesirable in any capacity—even if she was a beautiful creature—none of the other planets and their men would take them. Galaxtans were forbidden to mate outside of their race, so they just trafficked the Earthwomen and other females from other planets.
“You’re going to make sure to get rid of this, aren’t you?” Razul asked his brother as they geared up for one more night on Lorr, and then they would part ways. “This…” He gestured to the scantily clad prisoners who were chained to the side of the ship.
“I am trying to, yes.”
“I think it’s a good idea. Leaves a bad taste in my mouth.”
“The selling or the flesh?”
“The flesh is fine…,” Razul said, licking his lips. “I wouldn’t mind an Earthwoman mate.”
Azimuth sneered. He didn’t think of things like that, nor did Razul really. Carrying on the family name was the right thing to do, but they were both thinking about their own personal futures, personal gains.
“Another restless night,” one of the captives was saying to the brat. “How do you sleep?”
“With one eye open,” she answered, her sing-song voice carrying in the small cabin and pummeling Azimuth’s eardrums.
“I should stay in here this evening,” he said to Razul, who was trying to make himself a bed next to one of the hostages.
Razul raised a dark eyebrow. “You? Mr. Future Senator?”
Azimuth shrugged. “’Bout time you learned to keep your cock in your pants, little brother.”
Razul knew he meant well, but he’d wanted to get a taste of the brat before they headed out.
“Go, Razul,” Azimuth demanded. “We’ll convene in the morning.”
Razul frowned but then chuckled. “Very well, Azimuth. They’re all yours.” He waved and headed out of the holding area, with some of the women already sleeping and a few sedated enough not to care for the alien’s presence.
Azimuth made his way down the row to the very end where the brat was chained to the wall, still comforting the feeble woman next to her.
Her eyes glared at him—she wasn’t afraid, not in the least. Azimuth sat down next to her and smiled.
Saying nothing, the woman kept her eyes on him for what seemed a lifetime. She was a gorgeous woman, curvy…freckle-faced, blue eyes, and long blonde hair that curled in waves at the end.
How many men had taken her since she’d arrived on the planet? His eyes wandered over her body as she leaned her head back to rest. What they had the prisoners wear barely covered anything—her garments weren’t sheer like some of the women, but it still clung to her body, accentuating her figure.
He had no real enemies on the planet Earth, but he wasn’t the biggest fan. He didn’t lose sleep over the lives lost from battles fought with the Earthlings—seeing as how the humanoids’ governments were quick to hand over their own for profit.
“Sleep,” he scowled as the woman glared at him, “or I will put you to sleep.”
The woman closed her eyes, leaving them slightly open as if Azimuth didn’t notice.
“What is your name?”
“Elle.”
“Elle?”
“Eleanor.”
“Eleanor…”
“Call me Elle.”
“I shall call you whatever I please,” Azimuth said. “Now, sleep. You’ll need the rest before auction.”
