Keeping Their Human: Monrok Warriors 2 Read online

  MONROK WARRIORS: Keeping Their Human

  A Monrok Ménage Catalyst Novella

  By Aubrey Cara

  Copyright © 2017 Keeping Their Human by Aubrey Cara

  All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the original purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this e-book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without prior written permission from the author. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

  Published in the United States of America

  Aubrey Cara

  Editor:

  Kate Richards, Wizards in Publishing

  This e-book is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imaginations or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  This book contains descriptions of many BDSM and sexual practices, but this is a work of fiction and, as such, should not be used in any way as a guide. The author and publisher will not be responsible for any loss, harm, injury, or death resulting from use of the information contained within. In other words, don’t try this at home, folks!

  Blurb

  Situs

  The Zapex created us, and they believe they control us. Because of them, I nearly destroyed a human female. I should die for what I have done, but the human harvest has begun. I must live to protect her. She is fragile and broken. It will take two of us to save her from the Zapex and keep her from being claimed by other Monrok.

  She will always have me for protection, but nothing more. I may have claimed her, but I will never be the one to truly mate her.

  Jual

  Our little mate is more resilient than Situs believes. I have promised not to touch to her until she is ready, but other Monrok believe she is free for the taking. She is ours. We may not be able to properly mark her, but we will destroy anyone who threatens to take her from us.

  ~*~*~*~

  Blurb

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  TAKING THEIR HUMAN

  CHAPTER ONE

  SITUS

  The gearan enters, his blue skin darker than most, his eyes black voids reflecting no light. Here at his master’s bidding, he holds an injector. Daily injections are commonplace. We Monrok usually administer them ourselves. I am distrustful of what is to come. I have been torn apart and reborn in lab rooms much like this one again and again, through endless pain, so I could one day feel none.

  Now I am Monrok, Elite Guard to the Zapex. Much fiercer than the beings who created us. Monrok cybernetics are engineered to regulate everything from our body temperature to pain receptors. Losing a limb would be a mere discomfort. We heal quickly and have unparalleled strength and endurance. We are capable of killing one of the Ko’sars, Zapex’s mortal enemies, with one blow.

  This gearan, though as tall as me, is not as powerfully built. From a lower caste of Zapex, he has been stripped of his rights, as well as his life-giving essence. He is less significant than I, but as a gearan, he is held as a treasured servant.

  I do not give in to the desire to end him, for it could mean my own termination.

  The gearan decompresses the tube at my shoulder and quickly exits the room. A fiery burn races through my veins with swift, blinding pain. My cybernetics should be activated, but the burn still spreads, hazing my vision. My heart rages, not slowing.

  I stumble back, disoriented for the first time in my remembrance.

  Whatever that fucking aheh administered is suppressing my cybernetics.

  My gut cramps as I roar my fury.

  My groin tightens.

  I double over as my lifebringer swells, hard and thick, throbbing with need so excruciating it blurs my vision.

  I tear at my pants to take it out, stroking until I spend my essence on the floor, but the ache does not subside. Only grows stronger. Stinging my skin with a prickly sick need.

  I am a beast of hunger.

  It shadows my senses until it is all I know.

  The door swooshes open. I smell her before I see her. A gearan pulls in a female. A human female.

  Lust and rage clouds my sight. I snarl at the male holding her.

  Mine.

  He shoves her toward me, scrambling from the room.

  I am deaf to her cries and screams as I tear the thin cloth from her body. Fighting, she claws and kicks, but I am numb to this. My mind is blind with need.

  Pushing between her legs, I find her heat. She is dry and unyielding, but I force my way inside, rutting and snarling with savage hunger.

  My knot swells. My essence jets from me in scorching, angry bursts, but I am not spent. Fever still burns through my veins, eclipsing all else.

  At some point, her body stills under mine. Moisture spills from her eyes. I am dimly aware this is wrong. A human female is a sacred gift. She must be prepared before mating. But I cannot stop.

  I have no will.

  I must rut.

  I mate her twice more, swelling and spilling.

  Slowly, my cybernetics take command. Starting at my spine, moving out. My heart slows. My breathing calms. My lifebringer mercifully goes slack. My senses come back to me. The fever veil shading my eyes lifts.

  Horror grips me at the sight of the human female under me, her eyes unfocused.

  I scramble back; a mess of essence and blood slicks my cock. Oozes out from between her limp legs.

  What have I done?

  I have killed without mercy, but never like this. Acid churns my gut and burns in my throat. For the first time in my existence, I emesis, stomach heaving forcefully before my cybernetics can once again take control and regulate my functions.

  That I am capable of such regurgitation is shocking. Monrok rarely ingest sustenance, existing on nutrition shots.

  I push away from the rancid stench of bile on the floor and climb to my feet, tucking my flaccid cock away. I must aid the female. Ensure she lives.

  I scoop her off the floor. She emits a barely audible whimper at the jostling, and relief swamps me. I have not killed her.

  She is so light, it takes no effort, and I gentle my touch, afraid to damage her further. The scent of her distress is as weak and frail as she, yet it fills my chest and tightens my throat, making me feel just as feeble.

  Setting her on the medical table, I quickly check her human vital signs. Her pulse rate is low, her temperate inadequate. Her pale skin is so thin and delicate, blue veins show through at her neck and wrists in sharp contrast. She slowly blinks up at me through blurry eyes, a watery, indecipherable hue.

  There have been whispers of a human harvest. About how the Zapex want to breed us. Now I know it is truth.

  I have never seen a human in person before. No Monrok has. Only rudimentary vids. Strange images of a world far removed from our own.

  Some Monrok have reached gratification with other species on the trading and prostitution moon of Ak’ba. It is not discussed, but some have experimented with each other. Amongst ourselves, we have many times wondered what mating a human female would be like. I don’t think the Zapex are aware we have access to their intel and data bases on humans. Most of
us secretly long for one of our own. To experience a glimmering touch of what we were robbed of when taken from Earth.

  Never did I ever imagine this.

  I was fortunate enough to mate a human, and I nearly destroyed her. She is all that is lovely, and whatever light that may have shone inside her is all but snuffed out.

  Because of the Zapex.

  They have done this.

  My hands fist with impotent rage at either side of her head as I lean over her. She begins to shake, tears leaking from her eyes, and I smell her fear, her pain, her anguish. I feel it now. It rolls through me, extinguishing my fury.

  The pungent stench of urine rises in the air as she shakes with sobs. She has voided. In her fright. Of me.

  Bile rises in my throat again, but I manage to swallow it down.

  I bring my forehead to hers, offering my strength in the only way I know how. “I will find you retribution for what has been done here.” Even if it means my own termination.

  My senses alert me to the footsteps down the passageway. I set the female’s features to memory, and stroke her gossamer hair one last time. “Until death releases you.”

  She does not twitch in acknowledgement and likely does not comprehend the words I offer her in comfort.

  I step back, smoothing my features into a blank mask as three gearan and two Zapex stream in to surround the female.

  My body freezes, paralyzed.

  One of the scientists has activated my internal collar, and wisely so. I want to tear their limbs from their bodies, and rip the eyes out of their implacable faces.

  Immobile, I watch helplessly as they strap her down and inject her with pain inhibitors and sedatives. They examine between her splayed knees, taking samples and probing her. Her distress is palpable and eats at me.

  Prince Kaihan, the leading hadhr of them all, enters, his robes flowing behind him, and assesses the situation. His blue face crinkles in distaste, likely at the pungent odor of essence and urine permeating the room. He is our creator and secondary ruler. His father, King Thaain, sees humans as pets. Though he does not have the scientific mind of his oldest son, he supports Kaihan’s endeavors in making humans useful slaves of the Zapex.

  If given the opportunity, Kaihan will be the first I kill.

  One of the scientists turns to report. “The Monrok did not react well to the inhibitor stimulator that was administered.”

  “She lives?”

  “Yes,” the other scientist answers, pulling a probe out of the female’s core. She shakes with terror, and he does not spare her a glance. He will be the second I kill. “Unfortunately, her breeding canal has been damaged. We must wait for her to heal before we can try to mate her again.”

  “But she will heal?” asks Kaihan.

  “Yes, your majesty.”

  “I am pleased she lives. You will not be punished for this, Monrok,” Kaihan graciously tells me. For him, this is being generous. “When this experiment was suggested, I worried she would not be able to survive. The human female is stronger than expected. Mayhap we should run more experiments in this vein? Add some variables.”

  I swear he is baiting me. Wanting to kill him at his words, I work to keep my features placid. Kaihan has been known to like to goad us Monrok. See if we will snap.

  He turns his back to me, and I imagine the joy of ripping his head from his body. It would be a simple thing. “Next time, let us administer the mating accelerant only to the females.” He turns to face me, once again. “Are you functioning at peak capacity once more, Monrok?”

  I say nothing, my throat tight with rage.

  “The cybernetics should have pumped it from his system by now,” one of the vile hadhr answers.

  “You have done well. Very well. Even without your senses, you managed not to destroy the female. If we find she does not yet carry life inside her, you may try mating her again. You are dismissed.”

  Whoever holds the power key to my collar releases me from stasis.

  For a moment, I entertain thoughts of killing them all. They deserve death. As do I. But I must live to protect the female, and terminating them now would mean my demise. She will be mated again and again until she carries. I must let no other harm her as I have.

  Jaw tight, I clench my fist over my heart and bow before leaving the room. A furious rage storms through me all the way back to the barracks.

  ~*~*~

  The barracks are nearly empty when I enter. Jual is lying on his mat next to mine, waiting for his shift. His dark skin and hair is much like mine, but coarser. We are the same height and broad build. His musculature is slightly thicker, carrying a bulkier weight.

  From our study of humans, we have gleaned beings of Earth have different physical traits depending on their region. We have surmised my organic origins stem from what is known as South America or Europe. Jual from the Middle East region.

  His head jerks in my direction, his nostrils flaring, and I know he scents the female on me. “Did you mate? Was it a human? What was it like?”

  The mating plays through my mind. I shake my head, unable to answer.

  We both have the altered Monrok eyes that shine like pale blue tash stones due to our cybernetics. His narrow in suspicion, and I know he will not let this go.

  We have been comrades for decades. He knows me too well.

  I pull off my shirt and let him see the scratches that are already beginning to fade and heal. I kick my boots off and peel down my pants, releasing the full lingering stench of female blood mixed with my essence. Streaks of her red fluids cover my groin.

  Jual stares, perplexed. “What is this? Was she virginal? Menstruating?”

  “I nearly killed her.” I walk to the bak, our bathing stall, and press for the door to open.

  His brow pulls down in a questioning frown as he sits up. “What do you mean? Are human females that feeble?”

  “They injected me with a serum. It suppressed my cybernetic functionalities and put me in some mating fever.” I swallow thickly. “I damaged her badly.”

  “But she lives?”

  I give a solemn nod. “She lives.” Though I doubt she will count herself fortunate.

  “Do you think your essence took root?”

  One foot in the bak, I halt at his words. I do not know why this catches me off guard. Is that not the entire reason for the mating? But it is in this moment I realize she could be carrying my lifeforce inside her.

  A chill of icy trepidation fills my veins.

  All Monroks want to mate. But is it worth it if our young suffer our fate?

  “We must not mate them,” I tell him. “If there are more females, we must not mate them.”

  Jual shakes his head, as if I have gone mad. “Situs, if the Zapex are set on harvesting the humans, it matters not if we mate them. If they want our essence taking root inside females, they will take it one way or another.”

  The truth of his words fills me with an impotent fury once again. I close the door to the bak as my cybernetics work to clear the emotion blasting through my head, but it does not work to remove the image of her lying under me, unblinking.

  For a moment, I believed I had killed her. I could have.

  My heartbeat evens, but shame, a sensation I have never experienced, burns in my chest, and disharmony rides me. I let the decontamination cycle run through twice.

  We cannot let them breed us. This I know. I have not formulated how I will get the other Monrok on my side. I must approach this with care. The others cannot know of the female I mated, or they may turn against me for their own chance to be with a human.

  My gut clenches tight at the thought of another rutting my female.

  And she is mine.

  Mine to shield and protect, and mine to mate my mind whispers, but I ignore thoughts of rutting. I may have claimed her in my mind, but I will never be the one to mate her. Not after…

  There is only one Monrok I trust with her care, and if we get her away from the Zapex, I will let him cl
aim her truly. No matter how much it pains me. I deserve to suffer a thousand lifetimes for nearly destroying her.

  She will always have me for protection, but nothing more.

  CHAPTER TWO

  SITUS

  “She cannot possibly be healed yet.” It has only been three cycles. Yet I have been summoned to the medical bay.

  “You must go. If you do not, they will summon another.” Jual sits across from me on his mat. By the time I exited the bak the other cycle, he had disposed of my clothes. He is the only one who knows of the female.

  We are Monrok. We do not hesitate. Emotions do not weigh our actions. Yet, for the first time, indecision swamps me. I must set it aside. “You will go mate her and if we get her away,” I tell Jual, “you shall claim her.”

  Jual’s jaw works, his face growing clouded as he stands. “My presence instead of yours will not go unnoticed. When questioned, what will be your answer for such defiance?”

  Before I can answer, Monrok stream in to the sleeping quarters. Beli, Krav, Cyrin, and Mudah argue on the best way to track and hunt fenipu beasts. They cast questioning glances to our tense corner but say nothing. Some go to the mats; others make their way to the baks to bathe.

  Kein walks in to stand in the center of the room. A hush falls. The musky heady scent of female and essence fills the space, capturing all our attention. I know a moment of relief the scent is not that of my female.

  He meets the eye of every Monrok in the room. “I am here to tell you the rumors of harvest are true. We are to be bred. My brother and I have been given a female, and there are at least seven others, but four are in cryo-freeze.” Many of our brethren jump to their feet at his words, as if they mean to go search out the seven females this instant. Kein holds up a hand to halt their advance. “We will not have time to take those in cryo-freeze.”

  Speaking of taking these females has bold implications. We all stand, tense and ready for action.

  “What exactly are you proposing here?” Krav asks, but I am sure we all know the answer.