Release Day for Her Alien Healers

cover of Her Alien Healers. Winged man

She’s ready to move on to the next chapter of her life — She just never expected it could be a love story.

Jody Clark has been many things over the years: a doctor, a wife, and a divorced single mother. Now, there’s just one more thing she needs to do – for once in her life, she’s going to put herself first.

An unexpected invitation to Haven colony comes at the perfect moment. A new home and new challenges are just what she needs to kick-start her time of self-discovery. At least, that’s what she thought…

Haven isn’t as peaceful as its name implies. There are hidden threats, secret societies, and most dangerous of all, a pair of sexy alien silver foxes that are as alluring as they are off-limits.

Two alien healers who cannot mend their broken hearts are about to meet the cure…  

Tariq and Sulat are Vardarian anrik, blood-bound brothers destined to share their lives, a family, and a mate. When a tragic accident claimed the life of their mahaya, grief shattered their lives and ended their hopes for the future.

Joining the exodus to Haven seems like the best way to move forward and rebuild what remains of their family. Their new home is indeed a haven, but one under threat from outside forces and the pressures of traditions best left in the past.

Three healers willing to risk their lives to protect their patients… but do they have the courage to risk their hearts?

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It’s Release Day for Her Cyborg Rangers!

She dreamed of escaping Earth one day—but she never imagined the price she’d pay to be free.

Jade was a cyber-jockey. Emphasis on the word was. Now, she isn’t sure who she is or what she wants to do with her new life.

No one else seems to know what to do with her either, including the two sexy cyborgs who are never far from her side, but always just out of her reach.

Cyborgs. Batch-brothers. Survivors. They thought they were prepared for anything. Then, they found her.

Wreckage and Ruin thought settling down would be simple, but living a quiet life has its own challenges.

The new ranger program might be just what they need, but it’s not all they want. Drawn to Jade since the day they rescued her from mercenaries, they’re trying to give her the time she needs to heal… and the space they need to keep their secret.

Three broken souls with the power to heal each other—if only they can let go of the past and trust in a future big enough for three.

Enjoy your sneak peek and read Chapter one now, or buy it and enjoy the whole story.

A Sneak Peek at Her Cyborg Rangers

Chapter One

The Bar None was quiet for the moment, but Jade knew that wouldn’t last. She’d thought the place was hopping in the winter months, but spring had brought even more customers flocking to the only human-run tavern in Haven colony. She had less than an hour to finish up with the bar droids and then test them to see if her upgrades had any unintended consequences before business picked up.

Kneeling behind the bar wasn’t comfortable, but it was the only way to do a visual scan of the new code. While she worked, she did her best not to think about how much easier this would be if she still had her implants. They’d been ripped out of her during interrogation sessions she’d endured while a prisoner of corporate-backed mercenaries. She’d been one of the best cyber-jockeys in the known systems before the fraxxing mercs had caught her. Now? She was stuck in normal space forever, interacting with machines one keystroke at a time.

Of all the sacrifices she’d been willing to make to escape from Earth, she’d never imagined she would have to give up one of her defining qualities.

The calm was suddenly broken by the thud of booted feet on the tavern’s veranda accompanied by rough male laughter. Someone shoved the door open hard enough it flew back to strike the wall with a loud bang.

Jade froze, her hands locking into fists as an icy chill flowed down her spine. She struggled to think, to move, to do something besides cower like a wounded animal, but she stayed where she was, teeth clenched, muscles screaming with tension, and heart pounding so fast she felt sick.

This was the other price she’d paid for freedom—panic attacks. Her time as a prisoner had left her with more than physical scars, and she was still learning how to deal with the sudden, gut-churning fits of panic that could be triggered by something as simple as a loud noise. She was broken in ways no nanotech or surgery could fix.

Her best friend Maggie hurried out to greet the customers, deliberately standing beside Jade and placing a steadying hand on her shoulder.

“Welcome to the Bar None. Take a seat wherever you like. I’ll come around to take your drink orders in just a moment,” Maggie said.

Several of the new arrivals rumbled words of thanks, some in Vardarian, others in Galactic Common. Thanks to the translators implanted in all of Haven’s citizens, communication wasn’t hampered by language barriers.

“You okay?” Maggie murmured once the others had moved off.

“As a duck in peach sauce,” Jade replied. Her voice was tight and shaky, but she had breath enough to talk, so she’d call that a win.

Maggie snorted. “I swear you make up new expressions just to fraxx with me.”

“Don’t blame me. That was one of my father’s expressions. I have no idea what it means either.” The friendly banter was exactly what she needed to ground herself and regain control. She leaned against Maggie’s leg, trying to slow her breathing and relax her knotted muscles.

It took a few minutes before she was calm again. Then she tapped the screen she’d been working on and activated the upgraded bar system with a still-shaking hand.

“The system and the droids are good to go. We’ll want to test them before it gets busy,” Jade announced as she rose to her feet, determined to keep it together in front of Maggie and the others.

“I’ll test them. You’re on a break,” Maggie stated firmly.

Jade waved her off. “I’m fine. Just need to stretch my back after being crouched on the floor so long. Remind me to talk to Anya about moving the central hub somewhere more accessible.”

Maggie narrowed her eyes and then muttered low enough only Jade would hear her. “If you don’t take a break, I will tell Anya and Saral that you’re pushing yourself too hard.”

“Whoa. You went straight to the nuclear option? How is that fair?” Jade protested. Saral and her two mates ran the tavern’s kitchen, creating some of the best food Jade had ever tasted. The Vardarian female was also a natural caregiver, and she was determined to provide Jade with food, advice, and mothering whether she wanted it or not.

“Who said anything about playing fair?” Maggie smiled and nudged her shoulder against Jade’s. “Grab a seat and relax for a few minutes. Saral has put together a plate for you already. If you don’t stop for a meal soon, she’s likely to come out here and glare at you until you’ve eaten every bite.”

Jade managed a small but genuine smile. “She’d do that. Wouldn’t she?”

“Without a doubt,” Maggie agreed. “She cares about you, Jaybird. We all do.”

Jade still didn’t know how to deal with that. Until Haven, Maggie had been her only friend—the one person she trusted to have her back. Haven was different. The beings here were kind, accepting, and honestly concerned about her. It made her uncomfortable, especially because she couldn’t offer much in return.

“I know, Magpie. It’s just weird. You know?” she replied, using Maggie’s nickname. Those names were part of their shared past, the years they’d spent on Earth, struggling to survive the hellhole that was the hive city known as Athens Two.

“I know. Remember, I’ve had a lot more time to get used to this place than you have.”

“Long enough to fall in love with a hot as hell cyborg and learn to be a badass with that fighting stick of yours.”

Kes’tarv,” Maggie corrected her with a snicker. “If Striker or any of the others hear you call it a fighting stick, you’ll wound their egos.”

“Yeah? Then I should probably say it to my bookend bodyguards the next time they start looming over me.”

“They’re not looming,” Maggie protested and then threw up her hands defensively when Jade raised both brows and stared at her.

“Okay. They loom a little. They’re protective of you. It’s kind of sweet.”

“No, it isn’t. They get all growly with anyone who even tries to flirt with me, which doesn’t happen much as it is. They’ve got cock blocking down to an art form, and I don’t know why they’re doing it. It’s not like they’re interested. They don’t trust humans. Not that I can blame them.” She shrugged. “A lot of us are assholes.”

“Truth.”

Maggie caught her by the hand and dragged her back into the kitchen. “Now, get some food and take a break. Shoo.”

She did as she was told. Experience had taught her that a few minutes of rest after a panic attack lessened the aftereffects significantly. Saral waited in the kitchen. The Vardarian female made a disapproving clucking noise and then handed her a plate stacked high with the Vardarian version of sandwiches with a side order of spicey fried tubers.

“Sit. Eat. Rest,” Saral instructed. “You should have mates to take care of you, but yours are slower to come to their senses than most.”

“Mine?” Jade shook her head. “Who would want me?”

Saral snorted. “Is this some sort of human affliction? That none of you can see what is as clear as the sky on a sunny day to everyone else?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. Now, I’m going to follow your advice and find somewhere out of the way to eat this delicious meal. Thank you.” She nodded to Saral and then to her mates, Antas and N’tev, before fleeing. Saral was kind, generous, and determined to see everyone around her as happily mated as she was. Jade appreciated the female’s good intentions, but she was too broken for any man to want, no matter what their species.

The closest she had to male company were Wreckage and Ruin, but they treated her like a little sister, not a romantic interest. If she couldn’t even interest the two battle-scarred cyborgs who shadowed her like a pair of overprotective gargoyles, what chance did she have with anyone else?

She slipped into the tiny space they called a staff break room and sat down to eat. Three mouthfuls later, the door opened again.

“No need to check up on me, Saral. See? I’m sitting and eating as instructed.”

“It’s not Saral, but she did tell me to make sure you were eating.” Phaedra’s distinct voice and unexpected laughter filled the air, and Jade leaped to her feet. “Phreak? Uh, I mean Princess Phaedra. What are you doing here?”

The fuchsia-haired woman smiled and settled her very pregnant body onto the nearest chair. “I’m here to recruit you.”

*

Wreckage swung the axe with practiced ease, each strike taking another bite out of the trunk of the tree he and Ruin had chosen to harvest from the area around their cabin. The spring sunshine felt good on his bare back, the warmth soaking into his scarred skin. Every stroke of his blade filled the clearing with a crisp, satisfying thwack.

Birds sang in the trees and the breeze stirred a hundred branches and a thousand leaves as it blew through the forest. On the far side of their cabin, Ruin prepared a freshly fallen tree, trimming off the branches and peeling the bark. They’d need more logs to have enough to expand their home, but they had months of good weather ahead and plenty of incentive to get the job done.

It had only taken a single winter for them to realize they’d need more space if they were going to get through the cold, dark days of winter without killing each other, though it got easier once their young charge had been granted full citizenship and returned the colony. Cam had proven himself trustworthy and loyal to his new home.

If they moved back into Haven, they’d also be entitled to separate residences that would both be bigger than their hand-built domicile, but neither of them were ready for that. The colony was nice, but it lacked the calm and peace of the forest. After a lifetime of war and then confinement on Reamus Station, Wreckage needed solitude and quiet. The only exception to that rule was the company of his batch-brother, Ruin. The other colonists generally understood and gave them space, welcoming them when they came into town and leaving them alone the rest of the time. It was what they wanted. At least, it had been. Wreckage wasn’t sure about that anymore.

Another swing of his axe made the tree shudder and groan as it gave way. “Timber!” Wreckage called out as he moved adroitly out of the danger zone.

The tree dropped to the ground in a cacophony of breaking branches and tearing wood that ended with a thump he felt through the soles of his boots.

“Why do you insist on saying that when you have no idea what the fraxx it means?” Ruin demanded, his voice clear despite the distance between them.

“Because it’s faster than yelling, ‘Hey, asshole, pay attention to the big tree about to crush you!’” Wreckage called to his batch-brother.

Three seconds later, a fist-sized rock soared over the roof of the cabin. “Hey, asshole, watch out for the rock about to smack you!” Ruin yelled and then added, “Huh, your way is faster. Point to you.”

Wreckage didn’t bother to move. The rock would miss him by ten meters or so. “That gives me ten points. You know what that means?” This time he sent the message via an internal comm link so he didn’t have to shout.

Fraxx,” Ruin swore inside his head. “Already?”

Yep. Which once again confirms that I’m the smart one. We’re going into town tonight and the first round is on you.”

Ruin didn’t respond, which wasn’t normal. The two of them bickered like it was a sporting event, and they were both vying for the championship.

A moment later, Ruin appeared around the side of the cabin. His shoulders were tight, his hands fisted at his sides, and his face was twisted into a scowl. Great. Ruin was in one of his moods.

“Problem?” he asked, even though he already knew the answer.

Ruin ran a hand through his dark hair and grunted before answering. “We’ve been in town too much lately. We should stay away for a while.”

“Because everyone is going to forget what we look like if we’re gone long enough? The Vardarians might, but the cyborgs have perfect recall,” Wreckage reminded his friend. This argument had been going on as long as they’d been on Liberty, and he was tired of it. Eventually, someone would figure out their secret. At some point, they’d have to face the consequences.

Ruin’s lips twitched into a momentary snarl. “I know. And I know we’ve had this conversation so many times we can both recite the other’s point of view verbatim, but I…” he trailed off and smacked his fist into his open palm.

“You think I’m looking forward to having that conversation?” Wreckage shot back.

“You’re acting like it.”

“Seriously? That’s the best argument you’ve got?” Wreckage set down the axe and folded his arms across his chest. “We can’t hide out here forever.”

“It’s only been a year,” Ruin argued. “What’s the harm in giving things more time?”

“More time for what? For our brethren to figure it out for themselves? Or for someone to put the moves on Jade while we’re out here hiding?”

“We’re not hiding.” Ruin smacked his fist into his palm again, but it lacked the force of his previous action. “We’re keeping a low profile, but we see Jade every week, and we’re there when she needs us. She’s still recovering. It’s too soon.”

“There’s a small vething gap between too soon and too late,” Wreckage grumbled. That thought had been niggling at the back of his mind for a while now. Jade was brave and tough for a human, but she was still human. They were so weak they’d created cyborgs to fight their wars for them. Jade was stronger and braver than most, but she’d endured hardships and cruelty for most of her life. Then she’d been captured and tortured by mercenaries. He and Ruin knew too well what kind of scars that left.

Jade needed time to heal. But how much? If they left her alone too long, someone else would move in and take the woman they wanted for themselves.

That couldn’t happen. She was the only woman he and Ruin had ever wanted for more than a night. He’d felt it since the moment he’d carried her out of the mercenaries’ ship. She belonged with them, but only when she was ready. Until then, he wanted to stay close enough to ensure they didn’t miss their moment.

“Is Jade the only reason you want to go into town so much these days?” Ruin asked.

“Not the only reason, no. Your cooking is almost as bad as mine, which means the only way to get a decent meal is to pay someone else to make it.” Their future plans included having enough off-grid energy to support a food dispenser, but that wouldn’t happen for at least another year, especially now they were dividing their time between the cabin and their new duties as rangers. Between training sessions and the time they spent patrolling and mapping the areas around the colony, there just weren’t enough hours in the day. Not that he was complaining. Staying active made it easier to forget about the past, and sometimes he managed to push himself so close to exhaustion he actually slept for a few hours before the nightmares woke him.

Ruin nodded in grudging agreement. “Whatever that was we had for dinner last night made me nostalgic for the days of nutri-bars and algae paste.”

Wreckage winced. “You cooked it. Don’t you remember what it was before you turned it into a burnt offering?”

“Something I found in the back of the cooling unit. It was only slightly green and fuzzy, so I figured it was safe to eat.”

“You bastard. I don’t know whether to laugh or worry you poisoned me.” Even if Ruin was telling the truth, it wasn’t really anything he had to worry about. His medi-bots granted him accelerated healing and protection from illness… or food poisoning.

Ruin’s grin faded after a few seconds, and his expression turned thoughtful. “Do you think Jade would like to come out here? You know, for dinner?” He held up a hand. “We’d do takeout, of course. But the place is looking good these days. I’d like to show her around and see what she thinks.”

“Of what? Of the woods? The cabin? Or us?”

“All of it. This is our home. It could be hers, too. I mean, she doesn’t have a permanent job yet, and she hasn’t been assigned housing. We could offer her another choice.”

Wreckage didn’t know whether to laugh or smack his batch-brother upside the head. “Whoa. We haven’t even asked Jade out on a date yet and now you’re suggesting we ask her to move in with us?” He shook his head slowly as he imagined all the ways that could go wrong. “Do I need to contact Skye and some of the other cyborg women to explain to you what a terrible idea that is?”

Ruin cringed. “Fraxx, no. Do not involve the women. I’ll never hear the end of it.”

We would never hear the end of it, because they’d blame me for letting you even consider the idea. As clueless as I am about dating, I do know we’re going to need to make more of an effort than that. We’ll need to romance her and make her feel special.”

“She is special.” Ruin’s sun-bronzed features collapsed into another scowl.

“Yeah, she is.” Wreckage took a deep breath before locking eyes with Ruin. “So, what are you saying? Do you think it’s time we let her know?”

“Not yet.” Ruin chuckled ruefully. “As you just pointed out, we’re clueless about this dating stuff. I think it might be time to start making plans, though.”

Wreckage clapped his batch-brother on the shoulder. “I think you’re right. We can start tonight while we’re having dinner at the tavern.”

“I still don’t think it’s smart to go into town so much.” Ruin ran a hand over his close-cropped beard. “I could grow this out and you could, too. That worked before.”

“It worked because you and I were kept in isolation most of the time. I don’t intend to spend the rest of my life that way. If we do that, we’re not really free.”

“I know,” Ruin said and then followed it with a heavy sigh. “But when they figure it out…”

“Then we’ll deal with it.”

“My way is easier. Feed her dinner. Show her around. Offer to move her in and take care of her. She might say yes,” Ruin grumbled.

“And she might laugh in our faces,” Wreckage retorted. “That’s not a chance I’m willing to take. We’ve still got time. We’ll work on a plan and then dazzle her with romance and flowers and stuff. Maybe Striker has some suggestions. He managed to get Maggie to fall for him and he’s a sullen, silent bastard most of the time.”

Ruin grunted in agreement. “That he is. If he can figure out romance, so can we. Besides, we’re much better looking.”

“Truth. We’ll clean up the worksite and then shower and head into town. I need a brew and decent food. If we’re in luck, Jade will join us.”

Ruin nodded. “I’ll admit, she’s worth going into town for. That, and I’m tired of looking at your face.”

“And I’m tired of eating charred food that may or may not have been green and fuzzy,” Wreckage shot back.

Once he was alone again, he set to work cleaning up the site and storing the tools for tomorrow. He smiled and hummed to himself as he worked, already looking forward to tonight. They weren’t ready to make their move, but they were ready to make a plan. By the time Jade was ready, they would be, too.

***

Ready for more? Her Cyborg Rangers released January 17th. ORDER NOW

Her Alien Forgemasters is here!

She doesn’t do mornings, cardio, or long-term relationships. Then her mates walked into her bar…

 Anya couldn’t be happier. Her tavern is packed every night, her staff is amazing, and her nosy mother is busy hauling cargo on the far side of the galaxy. It’s taken her years of work to reach this moment, and she’s ready to relax and enjoy the ride.

The last thing she needs is a romance to mess up her plans. She’s managed quite well without a man in her life, so why did the universe send her two?

He’d always known they’d find their destined mate. He just never imagined she’d be human.

 Tra’var loves his new life. Haven colony isn’t perfect, but it’s far better than the unchanging, inflexible society they left behind. Here everyone is free to be themselves.

All that’s missing is the female who will complete their triad and forge them into the family he’s always dreamed of… but he wasn’t prepared for Anya. She wasn’t anything like he’d expected, even if she might be everything they need.

He’s been an outcast his whole life… what female would ever want him?

Damos can transform ordinary steel into anything from weapons to ornaments, but he’ll never be able to change the one thing he truly wishes he could… himself.

Born flawed in a society where genetic perfection is the standard, he’s only been tolerated but never accepted. Haven might be different. But when Anya learns the truth, will she see past his flaws and embrace him as her mate?

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Sneak Peek at Her Alien Forgemasters

Releasing October 5th!

Chapter One

Tra’var glanced out the window of their domicile and then did a double take. Snow? That hadn’t been in the forecast.

“I’m going out back to make sure the forge is secure. It’s snowing!”

Damos grunted from his bedroom but didn’t make an appearance. “Great. Then we don’t need to go out. I’ll give you a hand and then we can pour our own drinks here and let Striker know we’re snowed in.”

“Not happening. We. Are. Going. I don’t care if there’s a blizzard. We promised we’d be there to celebrate.” There was a party for Striker and Maggie tonight to mark their mating and Maggie’s status as the colony’s newest citizen. Since he and his anrik had played a large part in rescuing Maggie from her abductors, Striker had sicced his female on Damos until the big, grumpy male had finally agreed to attend.

“Striker will understand. That male likes parties even less than we do.” Damos finally emerged from his room. Despite his grumbling, he was dressed for an evening out. His hair was neatly tied back, his jaw recently shaved. He’d donned polished boots, pants that had never been near enough to the forge to be damaged or singed, and a collared vest that Tra’var had never seen before.

“I didn’t know you owned anything without burn marks.”

His anrik flipped an obscene gesture at him. “I didn’t. But they have these things called shops. You go there and buy things you don’t have.”

“I’m familiar with the concept. I wasn’t aware you were.” Tra’var pulled on a jacket, arranging the long, heavy garment so his wings could be extended through slits in the back if needed.

“I do leave the house occasionally.”

“Very occasionally, which is counter to our whole reason for coming here.” They’d signed up for the new colony within hours of the announcement as a chance to start over somewhere new. A place where everyone would be judged on their own merits and not on their bloodlines was exactly what they needed.

At least, that was the plan. The reality was more complicated. Not everyone had left the old ways behind. There was still some bias and posturing. Wariness too. It would take time to discover the shape this new colony would take. Tra’var was hopeful. Damos was less so. Getting him out for a night with their new friends would be a major milestone. It would also be a step toward putting their mark on this place. If they wanted change, they needed to be present to make it happen.

Besides, he was sick of his anrik’s company. They might be blood-brothers, but if they spent one more night drinking ale and talking shop, Tra’var might just start throwing things. Given their home was also their storefront for the weapons they made, that had the potential to get messy.

Damos donned his jacket and pulled up the hood. “If we’re doing this, we better get going. The sooner we arrive, the sooner we can leave.”

“You agreed to two drinks and a meal,” he reminded Damos.

Another grunt. “I did. I’m still not sure how that happened. Maggie haggles better than half the traders we’ve ever done business with.”

“I noticed. Next time we have to negotiate prices for tarchozin, do you think we could borrow her?”

Damos nodded thoughtfully. “That’s not a bad idea. She’s very good. I don’t even know what I agreed to exactly, except that we have to try something called ‘Almost Heaven’ and Maggie’s signature cocktail. I think it was called an Aftershock? After… something. My head was spinning by that point.” Damos paused at the door and turned back to face Tra’var, though his face was shadowed by his hood. “I don’t know if I should feel sorry for Striker or envy him.”

“I envy him. He found his mahaya. The fact she is a match for him in every way is his own fault for being such a stubborn, growly male.”

Damos was halfway out the door before he spoke again. “Then it’s a good thing we haven’t found ours. I cannot imagine what kind of female the ancestors would send us.”

Tra’var didn’t answer. He flipped up his own hood and followed his anrik outside, his mind full of images of what their mate would be like. Soft. Smiling. Gentle enough to soothe the scars in Damos’ psyche and fill their home with light and laughter. One day, they would find her. They had to. As they aged, the urge to seek out their mate only grew stronger. If they didn’t find her soon, they could begin the transition to onar, those who had failed to find their mate and were destined to spend their lives alone. It was an unpleasant experience, one not everyone survived with mind and body intact.

They needed to find their mahaya before that happened. Then they would be complete.

*

Damos wasn’t sure how he felt about tonight, and he didn’t like it. He preferred to be certain about things. The correct shape for a blade. What temperature the forge should be. When to quench a blade and call it complete. He understood these things. Social cues and the nuances of polite society were far more complicated, especially for an outsider like him. It was easier to avoid them altogether.

They made the walk from their home in what had become the artists’ quarter to the broad bridge that linked the two sides of the colony. Flying would be faster, but the distance was beyond the range of what his imperfect wings could manage. They walked instead. Back on Vardaria Prime, that would have earned him pitying or scornful looks. He was flawed—an imperfect being in a society that valued lineage and breeding over ability and skill.

It wasn’t the same here, but it wasn’t easy to leave the old ways behind, either. Not for others and not for him.

The first snow of the season swirled around them, and he shoved his hands into his pockets before the chill triggered his scales to tighten. The natural armor was protection against attack, but it also made them resistant to heat and cold. In his case, though, it triggered more of the elements that made him different. His body didn’t know the difference between a cold wind and a violent assault, and the last thing he wanted was to arrive at the Bar None tavern sporting talons on his hands and raised scales down his spine.

 This wasn’t the first time he’d been to the bridge that spanned the river. He’d crossed it a few times to make deliveries, but that had always been during daylight hours. The place looked different now. For one thing, it was quieter. The street vendors had packed up their stalls for the night. A few beings were out and about, but they had their heads down and walked with purpose.

It was easy to spot their destination. The tavern was well-lit and noisy enough, and the sound carried on the wind, filling the night with faint laughter and music.

They reached the entrance, both moving to one side of the door to bang the snow from their boots and shake out their coats. It was an old habit, and the pause gave Damos a few more seconds to ensure his more unusual features weren’t in evidence. In a perfect world, he wouldn’t have to worry about it, but Haven wasn’t ready for that.

Neither was he.

They went inside. The first thing that struck him were the differences. This was not a Vardarian place. The walls were painted in dark shades and the furniture, while clearly mass-produced, wasn’t all the same style. Some seating was built for smaller body frames, and others had no back, which was the preferred style for most of his kind.

The main room was large, but it still felt small to him. Only when he looked up did he understand why. Vardarian spaces had higher ceilings, space for the patrons to stretch their wings if needed. The ceiling here was low enough he had to suppress the urge to duck his head.

Bots scooted around the floor, carting drinks and food orders to tables and booths, most of which were full despite the weather. The bar was tended by a pair of droids, and electronic menus sat on every table. Good. He’d be able to order and get served without having to interact with anyone he didn’t know.

They stripped off their coats and added them to the racks that lined the wall by the door before looking around for Striker and Maggie. The pair wasn’t hard to spot. They were seated at the back of the room, surrounded by a group of familiar faces. Damos relaxed. He knew them all.

They even saved us seats,” Tra’var sent the subvocalized message directly to Damos’ implanted receiver.

He just grunted in response. Maneuvering in the crowded space was tricky for someone of his dimensions, and the last thing he wanted was to bump someone and trigger an unwanted fight. It probably wouldn’t happen here on Haven, but a lifetime of avoiding attention wasn’t easy to move past.

They were only a few steps from the group when a scent brushed against his awareness. Something… delicious was in the air. He took another breath. Yes. There. Behind him. Achingly familiar yet entirely new, the scent called to him. He turned and inhaled deeply.

She was here.

Tra’var. Taste the air and tell me what you sense.” He was already scanning the room as he messaged his anrik, looking for the source of that elusive scent. Vardarian females were seated around the room but they weren’t right. Cyborg females were present too, but his gaze moved over them all until they landed on a solitary female behind the bar.

Behind it. Not seated at it. Was that the female who owned this tavern? The human? Forge and flame. Was their mahaya human?

He drew in another breath and arousal hit him like a speeding meteor. It was her.

Tra’var spun around. “Her?”

“Yes.”

“She is beautiful,” Tra’var said, his tone reverential.

“And human.”

“Older,” Tra’var said.

“And ours.”

They walked toward her, barely noticing silence as the entire room watched this moment unfold.

They’d found her. Their mahaya. Their mate.

*

Anya had enjoyed a string of good days since coming to Haven, but this one was even better than usual. Her bar was packed, the patrons were all behaving, and everything was working the way it should.

The moment she had that thought, she rapped her knuckles three times on the top of the bar to ward off any bad luck that might be tempted by her open invitation to cause havoc. She’d had more than her share of chaos before coming here, and she had no doubt more would be in her future. Just… not right now. Tonight they all wanted to celebrate.

Every citizen of Haven knew the story of how this place had come to be and how many factions would like to see them fail. Torex Mining Corp wanted their planet back so they could tear it apart to reach the rich veins of tantalum buried beneath the surface. Darker forces wanted to reclaim their lost “property,” the cyborgs they had imprisoned and experimented on in their mad quest to build a better soldier.

And then there were the Vardarians. Thousands of them had followed Prince Tyran to Haven to start a new life far from the boundaries of their empire. She didn’t have to know the details to understand there was a reason so many beings uprooted their lives to travel across the stars and start their lives over again.

One thing she’d learned in her life was that beings were the same the galaxy over. It didn’t matter what sect, class, or species they were, intelligent life all seemed to follow the same patterns. Most of them tried to be good, even if they often failed, and some of them always reached for more than they should have. Power, wealth, influence. When it reached a certain point, the decent ones always left and tried to start over somewhere new… and then the whole dance started over again.

That’s what Haven was—the first steps in a dance that might end in a year, a decade, or a few millennia. There was no way to know, and that was part of the magic. All she could be certain of was that here and now was her best chance to be a part of something special. It’s what Phaedra had offered her, along with the unvarnished truth about the challenges Anya would face if she came. Unstable cyborgs who distrusted humans, a new species no one knew much about, and a new world that hadn’t even been surveyed properly.

She’d said yes in a heartbeat.

Now she had a booming business and a sense of community she’d never known before. These beings weren’t just her customers. They were her friends and neighbors. And tonight, they’d gathered to celebrate the newest addition to their ranks. After being claimed by Striker, Maggie was now officially a citizen of Haven and the first of the human refugees to reach that status. As far as Anya was concerned, no one deserved happiness more than Maggie. It made her heart happy to hear her friend’s laughter and watch her lean into Striker’s side, her joy an almost tangible thing that lifted everyone around her.

“She glows,” Saral said as she placed a plate of snacks in front of Anya. “It’s nice to see.”

“It is.”

“So would seeing you eat. You work too hard and don’t take care of yourself. You need to find a good male or two to make sure you are well cared for.”

“That is your answer to everything. Males are not the cure to all the troubles of the universe.”

“No. True. They are also the cause of many of them. But the orgasms help.” Saral laughed and touched her hand. “You’ll see when you meet your destiny.”

“Bah. My destiny is to grow old and rich running this place, or one like it. Which won’t happen if my best cook is out of the kitchen much longer. Shoo!”

The Vardarian female retreated to her domain again, still laughing softly. As happy as Saral was with her mates, she couldn’t see that not everyone was destined for that kind of love. Some, like Anya, just didn’t seem easy to love, and that was fine by her. She knew her flaws and accepted them because they were part of who she was. She’d been around long enough to learn to like the woman she’d become.

“And I don’t have time for a man, anyway. I barely have time for me.”

The droids had the orders covered, so she took her plate and retreated to the end of the bar to eat. Not long after, the door opened and two new faces walked into her bar. She’d never seen either of them before.

Single she might be, but she wasn’t blind. If she’d laid eyes on either of these males before, she’d remember. They were both Vardarian, one silver-skinned and the other golden. The silver one was slightly taller than his companion, but the golden one was larger in general, a veritable mountain of a male nearly as broad as he was tall.

When they removed their coats, she got an eyeful of powerful shoulders and arms that dwarfed even the other Vardarians present. No arm bands either, which meant they were unmated. The taller one was blond with a broad smile and rugged features while the golden one kept his expression guarded and moved with care between the tables, avoiding even the slightest contact with the other patrons.

She knew the look. He was used to having to work to avoid trouble or notice, though with his size, she couldn’t imagine who or what would dare to take issue with him.

They were almost to the back of the room where Maggie and Striker were holding court when the dark-haired one stopped and turned around. He took a deep breath, his massive chest rising as he sucked in a lungful of air.

Fraxx. She knew what that meant. The male had caught a scent that intrigued him. It might be the roasted gharshtu on special tonight, or it could mean he’d detected the scent of his mate.

When he started looking around the room, she knew dinner wasn’t what had his interest.

“Here we go again.” She watched, curious to see who it would be. Several Vardarian females were present tonight, along with a large group of cyborg women who were celebrating with Maggie. Who was about to have their lives turned upside down?

When the big male’s gaze landed on her, she expected him to take one look and keep moving.

He didn’t. His amber eyes brightened, and he took another breath.

Oh, hell no.

A second later, the blond spun around to stare at her, too.

Anya took a step back. This was not happening. She’d known when she agreed to come here that as a single female this was theoretically possible, but she’d never for one second thought she’d be some Vardarians’ mate.

Both males stalked toward her, their skin gleaming like newly minted coins as their scales tightened, a sure sign they were agitated.

So was she.

Mahaya,” the blond one said, his voice a deep rumble.

“Ma-hay-nope,” she retorted, stepping back from the bar to put more space between them. “I serve the food, but I am not on the menu.”

“But you are our mahaya,” the dark-haired one spoke this time, and his voice was pitched like rolling thunder.

Damn. He was sexy. They both were. If they’d been looking for a night of no-strings-attached sex, she might have been tempted. But this?

It had to be a mistake.

Both males stepped around to the opening at the end of the bar at the exact same moment. As they reached out to her, she noted they bore a matching pair of circular scars on their wrists. They were anrik, a blood-bonded pair.

“I can’t be. There has to be a mistake.”

“No mistake,” the blond said. “I am Tra’var. This is my anrik, Damos. What is your name?”

“Anya. Anya Hutchinson.”

“Anya.” Damos spoke the word with all the intensity of a prayer. “Shining star. It suits you.”

“It does?”

“Oh yes.” Tra’var reached for her again.

“Come. We have a lot to discuss and not much time.”

To her surprise, Anya stepped out from the bar and took their hands as if it was the most natural thing in the world to do. She was even smiling for fraxx sake, despite the fact that every sensible cell in her brain was screaming at her to run for the hills before it was too late.

“Finally!” Saral exclaimed from the kitchen door, her smile as bright as a binary star system. “Go with them, Anya. We’ll take care of this place. You… enjoy yourself. Oh, your mother will be so pleased!”

“Do not tell my mother anything!” She didn’t want or need Hezza to cut short her cargo run so she could stick her nose into Anya’s business. If this was happening, the last thing in the galaxy she needed was her mother’s help.

When it came to relationships, she didn’t need anyone’s help, especially not a woman who had more romantic shipwrecks in her past than anyone else in the galaxy. Anya had enough wreckage in her own past to know how this was likely to go. If past was prologue, plenty of evidence suggested she could screw this up all on her own…

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