EXCERPT ONE:

SERPINT

Fun fact about Cygnian princesses.

They are extra-special horny little minxes and they light up like a sun going supernova when they come.

That’s the whole reason Crux keeps a whole flock of sexy swans up here in his private penthouse.

I’ve seen it before. Maybe hundreds of times. It’s hard not to get a glimpse when every time I’m home on the station I have to be up here doing business with Crux.

But this one’s glow is… I mean, I’m not trying to be disparaging, but it’s… dull.

Barely worth watching.

When I glance over my shoulder everyone in the room has lost interest.

A half-breed, maybe? Is that a thing?

I direct my gaze to the cyborg master, who has withdrawn his vibrating fingers from between her legs, and find him cocking one eyebrow at her. Probably thinking the same thing. Probably calculating how much Crux paid for her, adding in the fact that she’s unruly and belligerent, and deciding they should probably just send her down to the lower levels and cut their losses.

I let her finish moaning and writhing in her bindings. The best Cygnian princesses can go on for several minutes. Hell, I’ve seen one who took a full hour to finally calm down. But this one only lasts about thirty seconds.

Still, she’s exhausted. It must take a lot of energy to produce color like that, so I give her an extra moment.

She takes it. Drops her chin to her ample breasts and lets out a long exhale.

Then she lifts her eyes to meet mine from behind a curtain of unusually dark hair. Most of these princesses have bright-colored hair. Bellatrix blue, Demon Star orange, nebula green, and even some Arcturus red.

The dark color is a disguise, I realize. And now that I look close I can see that her dye job is fading at random places all over her head.

What is up with this girl?

She seems recovered now. So I say, “That all you got?”

“Fuck you,” she breathes, still panting. “Just… go away.”

I allow myself a chuckle, but then I remember why I’m home in this condition and it fades like the daylight from three setting suns back on the home planet.

Draden is dead. Ceres, blown up. Booty damaged.

I turn away and call out to ALCOR, “Send me a bottle of good whiskey and a girl. I’ll be down in my quarters.”

EXCERPT TWO:

LYRA

Fun fact about Akeelian males.

They have two extra-long, extra-hard, extra-thick cocks.

But the only time you know they have two cocks is right after they come. Because one requires the other to emerge. Which means fucking an Akeelian is never quick or easy.

“I was brought here,” I snarl at him, trying to pull off an attitude. But my eyes are stuck on his body. And even though I’ve already seen him shirtless, he was sweaty and dirty and now he’s clean, and smells like a fucking planet.

For sun’s sake. Why? Why did I mouth off up in the harem room? Surely, if I had just kept my trap shut I’d have ended up somewhere better than here. With him.

He slides his jaw to the side, gritting his teeth, clearly as irritated at my presence in his quarters as I am at being here. “Why were you brought here?”

“I dunno. Maybe the note floating in front of my tits explains the situation. I’m a fucking slave, remember? And I’m magnetically bound to this… this stupid wall. Obviously I didn’t put myself here.”

He and his little hovering bot walk towards me. Naked. Because of course he is. His two cocks swinging between his legs like… like a fucking alpha Akeelian who obviously just jerked off in his shower because that’s the only way both his stupid, super-long, super-hard, super-thick cocks would be visible.

Gross.

His hand swipes through the glowing green letters emblazoned in front of my breasts, dismissing it. Then he snatches the note from the ribbon and opens up what is not really a note, but more like a thick packet of printed papers.

Paper. Who the hell uses paper?

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” he says, rubbing two fingers alongside his temple.

He didn’t bother to shave, I notice, then internally chastise myself for noticing. But also because now that he’s had a shower and washed the blood off, the stubble is mostly… attractive.

“What?” I ask. “What do they say?” I lean forward as far as I can, but a sharp sting shoots through my body, forcing me to recoil back. “Shock bracelets?” I say, so pissed off. “You’ve bound me in shock bracelets?”

It’s not just bracelets, either. They are on my ankles and my legs are spread—not quite wide open, but near enough. So a second shock slides up my legs too.

“Stop shocking me!”

“You’re shocking yourself, princess.” Then he tilts his head a little and adds. “If you really are a princess.”

“You have some nerve,” I say, then regret it. Maybe if I wasn’t a princess I could get out if here? Gain my freedom and go save Nyleena?

I know for a fact that Harem Station only keeps Cygnian princesses as captive slaves. All the other harem rooms are filled with girls who get paid.

There is no paycheck in my future, and no saving my sister, if I continue to tell the truth about what I am.

“I was stolen,” I say, literally thinking on my feet. “Right from my bed. For no good reason.”

He lifts his eyebrow at me, tilting his chin down, so he’s looking at me with one of those condescending expressions that say, You’re full of shit. “You glowed downstairs, princess. Not well, I admit.”

Fuck him.

“But a glow is a glow. You’re a half-breed at the very least.”

Half-breed. As if there was such a thing.

There is no way to be a half-breed Cygnian princess. You either are one, or you’re not. And I am one. But maybe I don’t have to be?