The Serai have won the galactic war. Tasked to take charge of the human assimilation into their herd, Prince Jytrerd never thought to find a mate among the human slaves. He learns that the human Captain Ian McCaskey is his potential breeder and saves his life. Because they are sterile, the Serai need the genetic materials their captives give to father their younglings. But Ian resists, and it doesn’t take long for Jytrerd to realize that for their relationship to flourish, the two of them must connect on a deeper level. It is now up to Jytrerd to make Ian understand that he is valued above all others.
Warning: this book contains m-preg.
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Prince Jytrerd, Lord General of the Serai armies, watched Travunt, Emperor of the Serai, survey the human captives held before him. His lips held a cruel twist to it, one that was reflected on Jytrerd’s own. He curled his nose at the strong stench of battle that lingered inside what used to be an interstellar battleship. Redolent whiffs of combined smells of blood, smoke, and sweat tangled in the air. There was no escaping the pungent smell of despair. Echoing around them, the steady ping of the system alarm added an undercurrent of fear next to the low, dark tones of Serai voices.
The human soldiers knelt in silence before them, their hands bound behind them, their mouths gagged. It was so Travunt would be spared from their irritating speeches. Their eyes, however, betrayed their terror.
Jytrerd smirked. He didn’t doubt the Serai were terrifying for the humans to behold. For five long years, the humans had abused and killed the peaceful, non-warrior Serai herds. Now that they finally beheld the warrior class, they were acting like they had set eyes on demons. Since the warriors stood at an average over seven feet on their four legs, Jytrerd had no doubt they were terrifying to behold.
As a royal class, however, it was Travunt and Jytrerd who were getting the most stares. They were bigger and taller than the warriors standing around them. At almost nine feet tall on his four legs, Travunt was a good foot taller than Jytrerd and also stronger and faster. With his every move, the organic armor he wore clinked and rustled. When he shifted on his legs, his thick, silver tail flicked against the dark of his silver-gray coat. Jytrerd knew the action betrayed Travunt’s agitation. The humans, however, didn’t know.
Travunt lifted a gloved hand to beckon Jytrerd to his side. Jytrerd approached with caution, making sure not to lower his gaze from his emperor. By doing so, he would be seen as weak, something Travunt was known to be intolerant of. Especially if it came from Jytrerd, whom he’d promoted to Lord General after he’d taken the mantle of Emperor.
“Cousin,” Travunt said when Jytrerd reached his side. The humans flinched at the sound of his low, dark voice. The size of his thorax should have clued them in, if they had been observant enough. “I will leave you to oversee these prisoners. They are to be beheaded, no human spared. None.” He emphasized the last word as his gaze bored into Jytrerd’s.
“If we were to include those in the other ships, that would mean over ten thousand men, Your Imperial Majesty. A waste, perhaps? Among them could be able slaves to fetch good prices on the auction block.” Jytrerd bowed his head to show he was not contradicting Travunt, but rather offering him a profitable alternative.
Travunt rubbed his chin as he looked Jytrerd over. After a while, he gave a slight nod. “All right. Those who are not soldiers can be sold. All the rest must die. It will purify the galaxy of their impure and unnatural ideology.”
“Perhaps even among these soldiers, there may be some worthy of the breeding or pleasure farms?” Jytrerd knew he was risking his cousin’s wrath, but he had to show Travunt that annihilating a race was not a logical move. Neither was it a kind one.
Travunt gave a sharp crack of laughter, his hooves clanging over the grated metallic floor. Jytrerd held back his amusement when those humans nearest Travunt’s feet cringed in alarm. Travunt’s hooves were double the size of their heads, bigger because of the armor.
“A fitting fate, I agree. Very good, cousin. Used for breeding, their offspring can be useful for several generations. Very well, I so decree it. Now go. I leave you to personally judge their worth for physicality to breed. Have them stripped of their clothes. Those who fail or are too badly wounded can be beheaded by their females.”
When Jytrerd lifted his brows in surprise, Travunt paused and studied his face. “You disagree?”
“No, cousin. But the females to act as the men’s executioners? Isn’t that cruel?”
“It matters not to me. The females need to learn that in war, they have a duty to those who do not wield a weapon in battle. They are of no use to us, other than to reproduce more young breeders. See that my orders are carried out immediately, cousin.” He turned on his legs, making ready to move on, but then he paused and turned to look at Jytrerd once more. He raised a finger and gave him a grim smile. “If one of the human males catches your fancy, I give you permission to buy him. You can pay me by giving me your second best Gel’ess mare.”
Jytrerd bowed his head. He was well aware that Travunt knew of his small harem of human soldiers. And the whole galaxy knew of the prized herd of Gel’ess that he bred.
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