Drix Alien Hybrid : A SciFi Romance

Book 3: Perinqual Galaxy Hybrids

by C. Y. Croc

Genres: Action & Adventure Romance; Multicultural & Interracial Romance; Science Fiction Romance; Sci-fi Action & Adventure; alien romance

Synopsis

"This unknown female species repulses me - yet I have a carnal desire to make her my mate!"

Drix is ecstatic his clan have decided to revive an outlawed female hunting game. But when the clan's leader brings back a mixed group of females he's disappointed by the offerings and especially with the small pathetic unknown species with translucent pale skin. She repulses him the most.

Yet, something in her fragility stirs emotions in him, and he has carnal thoughts of her - thoughts he can't ignore. The only thing is, their leader has invited a rival clan of Prumiqions to join in with this prestigious occasion and their leader also has his eye on her.

Let the games begins - she will be his!

Marcella cannot believe what is happening. One minute she is out running in the woods and the next she is tied up with a group of terrified alien women on a spaceship.

But when they are all dumped in the middle of strange forest, it's not the terrifying shrieking coming from the forest depths that frightens Marcella, it's the huge purple alien who has horns jutting from his shoulders and elbows, a chest covered in scars, and a look of disgust in his eyes whenever he rakes them over her body - that's what sends shivers down her spine.

Now she and the others must run a race for their lives, because if they are caught by any of the alpha male aliens - God only knows what will happen to them!

All the books set in the Perinqual Galaxy series are enemies to lovers standalone stories. They have everything--action, adventure, fighting, alpha alien males, feisty fiery Human females, romance, love, and of course - plenty of steam. But most important of all, they all have happy ever after endings.

Also in Human Female Abduction Series

Book 1 Xander Alien Halfbreed

Book 2 Taran Alien Halfbreed

Book 4 Qaza Alien Halfbreed

Book 5 Zarrus Alien Halfreed

Check out the novella stories that feature the parents of male main characters from the Human Abduction Series

Perinqual Galaxy Aliens

Novella 1 Xixan and Nikki

Novella 2 Taun and Samantha

Novella 3 Dreez and Katarina

Release date: November 15, 2020

Print pages: 150

Sample

1

Marcella

Taking in deep breaths of cold air I sprint through the trees, jumping fallen tree trunks and ducking under low branches. The evening is particularly nippy and my expelled breaths disperse in white halo clouds around my head before vanishing. This evening I’m on a challenging route, pushing myself to my limits - but I have an unwanted guest tailing me.

I glance over my shoulder and he’s still there. I thought I’d lost him, but Pervy Pete must have stepped up in his fitness routine. Placing my hand on my zipped-up jacket pocket I squeeze, checking for the umpteenth time that the familiar shape of mace is still there. It sits in the same place as when I last checked it but knowing it’s still there doesn’t quell my uneasiness so I dig deep and increase my pace. A few more minutes and Pete will be eating my dust.

It shouldn’t be hard to lose my annoying new neighbour, I’m in peak fitness. I have to be. I’m competing in the new rock climbing event that’s been added to the Olympics. Rock climbing has been my life since my early teens and I’ve entered every competition that’s been physically and geographically possible for me to do so. Now, I’m at the height of my career and I couldn’t be happier.

Finally, everything in my control seems to be falling into place. As well as being fortunate in my career, I’ve recently purchased my first home and I love it, especially the forest backing onto my property. The forest was in fact the deal clincher for me, the main reason why I’d made the permanent move from city life to rural paradise. It has the perfect terrain for running, with hills as well as flats, established paths, and other ones off the beaten track that pose more of a challenge. But the icing on the cake is a huge rock face that is only forty minutes hike from my back door – it’s like having my own personal outside practice wall.

As I said, my life is perfect, and even though deep down I’d love to find the ideal man to be the cherry to top of it all, a relationship would probably just spoil things right now. With the new house, visits to the care home, and training for the Olympics, I don’t need a man in my life right now - especially not one as wimpy as Pete, but now it looks like he’s resorted to following me in my new training ground.

I jog on and think about what kind of man I’d like to have if I ever find the time to date again. One thing I know for sure, my ideal man will be a total opposite to Pete. He will have to be strong, self-assured and someone who doesn’t take fools gladly – a man’s man. He’ll be someone who would see me as their equal. But I know those kinds of men are hard to find and only came around once in a lifetime. My father used to be one of them - as strong as an ox - yet as loving as a puppy.

I blink back the tears threatening to spill and push thoughts of my father out of my head. Getting upset won’t help my cardio training, it will slow me down and then Pete would catch up. According to Lucy, one of my closest new neighbours only two miles away, Pete was harmless enough and is just overawed that a sports celebrity has moved into their area. But I don’t do star-struck fans well – especially middle-aged divorced men.

Spotting another felled tree bigger this time, I crick my neck as I prepare my body to jump and clear it in one swift move. Three, two, one…

“Marcella! Wait-up!”

I’m surprised Pete has caught me up, I must have slowed down in my reveries. I pretend I’ve not heard him. After all, I have my ear-plugs in; he’s not to know that my cell phone died five minutes ago. Clearing the tree trunk I dig my heels in and push myself to my limits. My heart rate is steadily climbing with my added exertion and I feel unbeatable and truly alive.

Within minutes of Pete calling my name dusk has fallen upon me, and now it is almost too dark to run safely. I glance back over my shoulder again but Pete is nowhere in sight. A huge grin encompasses my face and I slow to a trot, I need to bring my heart rate back down slowly.

It’s deathly quiet and as I look about I realise I don’t recognise where I am. I’ve strayed too far from home. The only option is to retrace my steps, and I need to get a move on too, the light is quickly fading and I forgot to bring my head torch.

As I slow from a trot to a walk my thoughts return to my father again. He’s half the man he used to be since dementia took complete control of him two years ago. Now, whenever I visit him in the care home I am a stranger to him and he is just the shell of a frail old man to me, all trace of the father I knew, the only parent I’ve had since my early teens has completely gone. But in hindsight, I think most of him disappeared fifteen years ago when we lost my mother.

There’s a rustle behind me and all of the tiny hairs covering my body stand to attention. My new residence isn’t far enough north for bears so that can mean only one thing. Pete is lurking close by.

I unzip my pocket and take out the mace, then I begin to tiptoe away while doing a slow three-hundred and eighty-degree turn. It’s so dark now I can barely see three metres in front of me and my heart rate is starting to accelerate again.

A branch snaps and a startled bird flutters up into the night sky. I spin towards the noise with my hand extended out in front of me holding the mace - I’m visibly shaking. When did I turn into a wimp? My eyes are bulging trying to suck in the last dregs of light so that I can see which direction Pete will come from.

I feel a hand rest on my shoulder and spin around aiming the mace at the first thing I see, my finger firmly down on the nozzle.

A high-pitched screech echoes throughout the forest, followed by my equally high-pitched scream. The two vastly different tones invisibly intertwine, making a horrendous sound, and all the birds that were bedded down for the night scatter in all directions towards the night sky, blotting out the only slither of the moon that is visible and casting us into complete darkness.

My mind has seconds to comprehend what I’ve just seen - it certainly isn’t Pervy Pete I just maced because this is a short vermin faced male creature with evil eyes. But before the skies clear enough for the moon to illuminate whatever I’ve just sprayed, I feel a whack on the back of my neck, and then nothing.

***

I can hear strange noises and lots of hushed women’s voices. The light is on because my eyelids are red, but the back of my head and neck are aching so much I don’t want to risk opening my eyes yet. I must be on the verge of one of my migraines. They’re very rare and thank God I only get one once a year but when I do, oh boy, I want to cut my head off.

Without exerting my brain too much I try to recount the last few moments leading up until now. I remember my evening run in the forest behind my house, nightfall coming on sooner than I expected it, and then stumbling back home because I’d forgotten my head-torch. But then I must have headed straight up to bed and switched on the TV. Either that or I was in hospital… Oh, wait! I remember a whack on the back of the neck… What did Pete do to me?

My eyes spring open expecting to see monitors, a curtain pulled around me and crisp white sheets. But what I see is a living nightmare and I scream.

A red devil woman scurries across the floor towards me and slams her hand over my mouth. She has horns sticking out of her forehead and blood-red eyes. “Shhhh! You’ll bring them in here.” I watch her eyes dart about and realise they’re not all red, they also have eye-whites and black pupils too – cool contacts. She brings them back to my face. “Are you going to keep quiet if I remove my hand?” I nod and a sharp pain shoots down my spine. I wince and instantly reach to feel the back of my neck but then stop as another shooting pain sears through my shoulders. She pulls her hand away from my mouth and I notice she has long black claws for nails. She’s either wearing a very convincing fancy dress costume or I’m in hell.  “They must have hit you on the back of your neck when they took you. They got me with a freeze beam.”

I’m feeling woozy and groggy. I frown. “Who?”

“The Taraquets. They work for the Federation mainly shipping prisoners backward and forwards to Prismn”

Pushing myself slowly up I see my surroundings for the first time and my stomach turns over. We are incarcerated in a small cell that has horizontal white beams for bars. My whole body turns icy cold. I look to my left and my right. There are identical cells on either side of the one we’re trapped in. Lined side by side in a long row are about eight or ten cells and each one houses two colourful life-forms. Inside the cell next to ours is a yellow woman with four arms, four breasts and skin flaps at the back of her head for hair. Her cellmate is an orange woman with a small horn for a nose and a very long ridged tail.

My mouth drops open and I lean over and look past the devil woman to see who inhabits the cell on the other side of us, but all I can see are two small blue scaled bodies curled up in a corner. I am seriously starting to doubt these are costumes, after all, they look – too real.

I turn back to the red woman in front of me, examining her more closely. “Where the hell am I?”

She sits on the edge of the bed. “We’re on a Taraquet ship, but I have no idea where we’re heading.”

Panic palpitates my heart but I can’t feel any motion, hopefully we’re still docked and there’s still time to get off the ship. “A ship on the Pacific ocean?”

The devil woman furrows her brow. “I have no idea what an ocean is but this ship is in the Perinqual cluster.”

I think I’m in shock because I watch the devil woman begin to blur through bleary dream-like eyes. I feel nauseous with pain, the shock must have come from the knock to the base of my head. Lifting my hand again I tentatively touch the back of my neck and touch a hot sore spot just behind my ear. There’s a small lump that sends an electric shock into my head when I press it. “Ouch!”

“They must have shot you with a translation implant when they brought you in. You were already passed out when I got here.”

I shake my head as if the action will somehow make me understand the strange goings-on more and weird things this woman keeps talking about. “Cluster. Transplant. Ship… I really have no clue what is going on but we need to get help. We need to get out of this cell and get someone to call the cops before this boat heads out to sea.” I try to stand but I see stars and fall back down onto the bed.

The devil woman catches me by my shoulders. “Whoa, take it easy. It looks like they really hit you hard.” Her face clouds with anger. “If only my inner-core ability was mature, I’d fry them all into heaps of black ash.” She whips a tail around in frenzy. It’s tipped with a sharp black barb. I blink profusely. Am I now visualising things?

Lifting my hand to my forehead I feel for a temperature. I must be delirious. I’m seeing tails, scales, extra arms and breasts and weird skin colours. The devil woman sits down beside me and reaches for my hand. She lifts it and examines it, turning it over to look at my inner-wrist. “Blue veins. Do you have blue blood?”

I shake my head confused by her question and pull my hand away. “Do you know why we have been taken? Are they sex traffickers?”

She shakes her head. “There’s been rumours circulating for a while now that Taraquets have been shipping more than just prisoners, but we’ve had no official warning from the Federation about them, that’s why I haven’t been worried about venturing out alone at home.”

I frown and bring my hands up to my forehead again, my head is throbbing and all of these new names and not knowing their meanings is making it worse. I look back at the devil woman. “Who is the Federation?”

She narrows her eyes. “You really aren’t from this galaxy, are you? I’ve never seen your species before. I just thought the Federation had taken another planet under its wing when I saw you. But if you don’t know who they are then…” Her eyes go wide. “…Then that means the Taraquets are not only abducting species from planets in the Perinqual Galaxy, they’re also abducting females from different galaxies too.”

Now, this is way too much information. I feel light-headed as I decipher what she’s just said. Abduction. Planets. Species. Galaxies. This could mean only one thing. The ship we are on isn’t a boat – it’s a freaking spaceship. I am on a spaceship, and I am surrounded by aliens. The rat-faced creature isn’t a figment of my imagination – I’m involved in a real-life alien abduction.

Without warning, I vomit on the floor. The red alien jumps to the side just in time. I look up to her, through watery blinking eyes. “I am so sorry. I think I’m in shock.”

She nods her head and sidesteps my puddle of vomit to sit back down. “I’m not surprised. I’m also in shock. I never thought abduction would happen to me. But it must be doubly worse for you being in a different galaxy.”

She puts an arm around me and pulls my head onto her shoulder and this time I gladly accept the contact, pleased that tactile actions like hugs exist in this galaxy too. Her voice has softened. “What’s your name and the name of your species?”

I lift my head off her shoulder and look into her crimson eyes. “Marcella, or Ella for short.” I squeeze out a small smile through thin lips. “I’m a Human.”

The red alien over-pronunciates. “Huuuman. Marrrcelllla. Ella.” I watch in fascination as she wraps the syllables around her pointy tongue. When she’s happy she turns back to me. “My name is Lorazzioandus…or Razz for short.” She smiles a big full smile, letting her fangs hang down over her top lip and winks.

I can’t believe her spirits are so high in our circumstances. My bottom lip quivers. “Aren’t you afraid? Afraid of what’s going to happen to us?”

Even though her smile instantly disappears from her face, her words are still full of optimism. “Yes, Ella. I’m very frightened. I’m frightened of what they will do to me before my clan finds me. But I know without a doubt they will find me.”

I envy the conviction of her last sentence. Abducted under these circumstances, my rescue looks bleak. There is no family to come looking for me. My father’s empty shell of a body doesn’t qualify.

“How will your clan be able to find you Razz?”

She leans in close to me and lowers her voice. “I have a tracking device fitted in the barb of my tail. All females from my species whose abilities haven’t yet matured have one fitted. It started yanas ago when a Deviad female was abducted by a group of Kreechut males. Once she was rescued by her brother, he made sure all of the clans agreed to fit a tracking device in the tails of their females in case it happened again. But the tracking devices have been redundant up until now. I am the first Deviad female that has been abducted in yanas.”

My head is still swimming with information overload but I want to learn more. “Is that the name of your species, Deviad?” She nods. “And I’m guessing, Kreechuts are not a very nice species?”

She shrugs her shoulders. “There are good and bad in all species, Ella. It’s probably the same with yours right?” I nod. “But there are some species that do seem to be more bad than good.” She looks out through the bars of the cell towards the only solid door in the room. “The Taraquets are one of those species.”

Right on cue, the door at the end of the room whooshes open and three short stocky rat-faced men with blood-red eyes walk in.

A cold shiver runs the length of my spine.

Drix

I stand with the other Hexian males in my clan around the announcement boulder. Our leader Hiticas stands tall upon it.

“Today is a very auspicious occasion. Today we bring back the female hunting games. Outlawed for forty yanas by the Federation, I have decided to no longer dance to their tune. From now on we decide our own laws – and our own rituals.”

The crowd of males around me cheers loud and hard and I throw my fist up into the air and rejoice alongside them - my clan brothers.

Hiticas holds up his arms into a V to quieten us, he doesn’t continue with his speech until there is complete silence. “We have been at war with the Prumiqions since the beginning of time, but today I see a chance to put our differences behind us.” There is a stir of unrest that sweeps through the crowd but a stern look from Hiticas stops it in its tracks. “I have invited a Prumiqion clan from Planet Alagile to join in with the first of our new hunting games. I hope this gesture will simmer tensions between our species so that we can finally begin trade talks. However, only the events of the next few days will truly determine that.” I cross my arms in front of my chest and silently watch and listen to my clan brothers’ murmurs of discontent begin to rise again, and this time they take longer to quieten down. “As you know there are too many of us to join in with the hunt, so this is how the hunters will be decided. I will produce a bag of seeds that will be filled with a white seed representing every male here, but out of those seeds, fifteen will be red poppet seeds. In accordance with age, each male will then select a seed from the bag. Only those warriors who draw a red poppet seed will be the ones allowed to join in with the hunting games.”

A Hexian from the front of the crowd shouts out. “What of the Prumiqions? How many of them will join in with the hunt?”

“Clan Kurip led by their leader, Pelk, will have an identical bag to draw from. The same amount of warriors from their clan will join our warriors in the race to hunt for their desired female.”

An excited shiver runs up my back. Not only will I be hunting down a female to fornicate with, but I’ll also be going up against Prumiqion warriors on the hunt. Life is good. I look around at the Hexian warriors in my clan. There are plenty of clan members as strong as I am, possibly some even stronger, but I am a formidable Hexian warrior, a male who is rivalled and also one who is respected.

I’ve risen to this position only from being the strongest I can be, from grit and determination, but now there aren’t many clan members I can call true friends - but I’m not in this clan to make friends. By the end of the wid I want to be standing where Hiticas is standing. I have my eyes set on standing in that exact position on the boulder as their new leader.

Ambition pumps through every purple vein in my body – it drives me. I want to hunt down and win a female slave. I want someone to possess and fuck whenever I feel the need, and a female would be a worthy prize worth fighting for, but the biggest prize I’m after is the prize of claiming the leadership of my clan – I want to be the next Viron clan leader.

What Hiticas doesn’t realise is I am not as stupid as the other Hexians, I have read our ancient scriptures. I know that by bringing back the female hunting game, I’m able to evoke another historic law - the law of challenging leadership. As soon as I claim a female I am also able to challenge Hiticas for the clan leadership but to do so, I have to be the first warrior to claim my chosen female – the winning warrior.

I hear an echo of metal crashing against metal and feel the ground rumble under my feet. The whole my clan turns toward the noise.

Coming up to the bank of a hill I take in the first sight of the Prumiqions on our home planet. My hands ball into fists at the sight of them. I have been in many illegal battles with them over the yanas and have the scars to prove it. Just looking at them gets me agitated. Tall and green the thick hard skin covering their bodies is a mesh of dull scales and the ugly yellow eyes peering out from their dull flat faces are targets teasing my fingers to gouge them out.

They wear their traditional metal chest plates to cover their soft underbelly and metal wrist bracelets with spikes. The clanging of metal upon metal is the cause of the noise. When their clan of thirty or so reaches the hilltop they stop beating their bracelets against their chest plates and stand motionless.

A tall Prumiqion steps forward and looks straight at Hiticas, he must be Pelk their leader. He raises two bracelets above his head and all Hexian heads turn in his direction. “These circles represent the circles of our clans.” He bangs the bracelets together and they form a link. “While these links are joined, our clans are joined and there will be peace whilst we are together.”

Hiticas raises a fist in the air and then opens it splaying his fingers, a sign to the Prumiqion leader they are welcome. Pelk raises his splayed hand and then closes it into a fist, the sign that he accepts the greeting.

Hiticas jumps down from the boulder and walks up the hill towards Pelk, and he takes a couple of steps towards Hiticas. Warriors from both sides are silent and eyeball every move their leaders make, unable to believe what they are seeing on this rare event.

When the leaders are within fortu of each other they stop abruptly and stare intensely into each other’s faces before gripping each other swiftly and patting their rival on the back, before pulling away just as swiftly.

Hiticas turns to us and holds a hand in the air. “A feast before the females arrive!”

Jubilant cheers ring out on both sides, and the Prumiqion warriors break formation and walk towards us. I step away from my clan and hover back as I watch the Prumiqions begin to mingle with my Hexian clan brothers. Something doesn’t sit right with me. How can we go from being all-out enemies one minute to best friends the next? My guard is up and that’s where it’s staying.

The enticing smell of roasting belkor turns me away from the strange bonding session going on before me and I watch the numerous skewered belkor carcases turn and spit as their fatty bodies are roasted over fire pits. I’d rather stare at the slaughtered belkor cooking than watch the fabricated niceties being spewed about behind me.

I go to one of the fire pits and ask the Hexian basting the belkor for a platter of the succulent meat, then I head to the feasting tables. I need to build up my strength for the hunt, the more I eat now the less I’ll have to stop and hunt for food. I tuck into it without waiting for the others to join me.

However, my dining starts a chain reaction and soon everyone is gathered at the feasting tables. Plates overflowing with meat take up every inch as Hexians sit alongside Prumiqions as if the yanas of war never neven happened. It makes me sick to my stomach. I don’t trust the Prumiqions, but it’s good to keep your friends close and your enemies even closer.  Maybe there is a method behind Hiticas’s madness.

A hinc later Hiticas stands and bangs two mugs together, bringing the crowd to silence. Once again all eyes are on him. “In due course, the females will be arriving and we won’t have much time after that before the hunting begins, so now is the time to establish the rules. Once the females come into the camp they will be displayed before us. Warriors will then go and stand beside the female they wish to hunt. But be warned, there will only be fifteen females and thirty warriors, so some females could have numerous warriors selecting them. Also be warned that as soon as you select a female, she is the only one you are allowed to hunt. It is possible there could be as many as five hunting down one female.”

The Prumiqion leader slaps his hand down on the table and laughs “I like these odds. The Prumiqion warriors will do well in this challenge.”

His confidence riles me, and I find I’m grinding my teeth as I try to reel in my simmering anger.

Hiticas turns to the Prumiqion leader. “Pelk let us hope we are both blessed and the fates choose both of us to join the hunt.” He turns back to face us. “There are some conditions you must adhere to in this hunting race. If you are lucky enough to catch your chosen female you must take her to the tallest tree on this side of Vammish, you must take her to the sacred Bazzidia tree. Once you are there you must climb with your female to a specially built platform in the branches of the tree. There you will find vines. Take a vine and tie it around the female’s waist to claim her. Only then will the female be yours.”

There is raucous cheering all around as testosterone thickens the air. I smile to myself. I welcome the challenge with open arms. Hiticas stands and bangs his mugs together again and the warriors instantly quieten. “One final important decree. If none are you are lucky enough to hunt down your chosen female and the female you have chosen manages to reach the sacred Bazzidia tree and scale it alone. The female is allowed to wrap the vine around herself and claim her freedom back.

Pelk looks up to Hiticas. “What if a warrior who has hunted down the female is on his way to the tree with her, and another warrior who also chose that female comes across them both out there in the hunting grounds. What happens?”

Hiticas looks down at Pelk and then back to the seated warriors. “Then the warrior is allowed to take the female from his opponent. Blood may be shed but the loss of life is not permitted.”

The warriors around me and myself included jump to our feet in an explosion of cheering and deep throated growling. I really hope I am fated to go on the hunt. The excitement of pulverizing a Prumiqion into a bloody pulp is almost as good as winning a female.

Hiticas pulls out two bags from a box on his table and a few of the warriors gasp. He hands a bag to Pelk and then turns to address us. “After Pelk and I have had our turn, in accordance with age, we want both Hexian and Prumiqion warriors to come up one by one and try their luck… May fate shine down on you favourably!”

Complete silence descends upon us as we watch Hiticas push his hand inside the bag and then withdraw a balled-up fist. He holds his fist out in front of us and then unravels his fingers. A gasp escapes most of the Hexians’ mouths. A white seed sits in the palm of his hand. His features crease with disappointment before he turns to Pelk and gestures for him to take a turn with the bag supplied for the Prumiqions.

Pelk lifts the bag in front of him and thrusts his hand inside. Prumiqion warriors rise to their feet all around in expectation of their leader’s outcome. He slowly uncurls his four short fat fingers to reveal a red poppet seed, a stark contrast against his dry green skin.

My stomach tightens in disbelief. The Prumiqion leader has made it into the first Hexian female hunting games in yanas but our leader hasn’t. The Prumiqions go wild jumping up and down. It’s a cruel joke that fate has decided to welcome our enemy and not our leader - but I am secretly pleased. Anything can happen out there on the hunting grounds and unbeknown to Pelk and his males, I am already planning what I’d do if I came across him - how else would he receive his comeuppance.

It’s our turn to go up and choose a seed. I shift my weight from foot to foot as I watch the elder warriors of our clan step up first. It’s a tense moment and each one takes a seed and lines up looking at each of their comrades before holding up their hands and unfolding their fingers together. Out of the ten, only four chose the correct coloured seed. One of them being Deekan, an elder I despise, and again I find myself dreaming of his demise, if not by the hand of a Prumiqion, then by one of the many Hexians he has wronged.

Next, to step up are the remaining Hexians of the clan, me included. Looking around at the Prumiqions and my clan with their hard eyes and gnarled up bodies, we are a large group of hardened warrior killers and we are miraculously subdued as we line up to take our turns.

Amazingly, the next five Hexian males to take a turn after the elder Hexians all pull out their hands and divulge a treasured red poppet seed. My stomach knots in envy. Then I lick my lips in relief when there are a couple of failed attempts, giving me a short-lived rush of relief before I feel my anxiety kick in again as I wait for my turn. There are only six remaining red poppet seeds but there are still ten of my clan members in front of me.

Two more pull out a red seed and I wipe sweat from my brow. Four remaining. I only realise I’m balling my fists too tight when my nails break through the skin on my palms. It’s a shame my blood isn’t red; otherwise I would coat the seed I choose in it.

I glance across to the line of Prumiqions, they too are almost finished choosing. I turn my attention back to my clan. A white seed for a short stocky Hexian with an annoying laugh. Yes! I silently sneer. A red seed for Hexian with about as much chest muscle as a Hexian female – pah, he has no chance - what a waste. Another red. Damnation! That means there’s only two left but there are still three males in front of me.

I feel my shoulders tensing and my jaw clenching. Another red. This time I’m pleased. Out of all the Hexians in my clan, Tromur is a Hexian male I can actually stand to be around for any length of time. But that means there is only one poppet seed remaining in the bag. I turn to see who’s behind me. The Hexians in my shadow aren’t really my juniors, we are the same age, there is barely a few cycs between us, but there is no way they are having their palms painted red with a victory seed today.

The Hexian in front of me steps up. He is a quiet solitary male. He doesn’t deserve to find a red seed. He wouldn’t even know how to fuck a female if he had one. He places his hand in the bag and twirls it about.

I feel the cords of my neck muscles tightening and bulging in my frustration. “Don’t make a fucking career out of it!”

He jumps at my outburst almost knocking the bag from Hiticas’s hands. Hiticas glares at me and growls and I growl back. I want him to know I’m after his position as leader.

The male in front of me finally pulls out his hand with the seed lodged between his thumb and forefinger.

“Yes.” I spit out through clenched teeth. It’s white. This is it. I look straight into Hiticas’s eyes and thrust my hand into the bag. There are perhaps only a handful of seeds left. I take each one and rub it between my fingers as my eyes bore straight into Hiticas’s soul. None feel right in my hand. It’s not until I see Hiticas’s pupils dilate that I know fate is giving me a sign.

I clamp my hand tightly around the seed. It feels hot. This must be the one.

I bring my hand out slowly and then hold out my clenched fist in front of Hiticas.

His eyes narrow but don’t leave mine, “Well?”

I uncurl my hand but the seed isn’t red - it’s purple, and it’s saturated in my blood. Hiticas snatches it from my palm and spits on it, then rubs it against his chest. My blood smears over him. It’s as if fate is giving me another sign – a sign of his leadership demise. When he uncurls his fingers from around the seed I eyeball it for a moment and then squeeze my eyes shut.

The males behind me clamber forward to view the tiny life form that wields such a huge amount of power in its skin colour.

There is a collection of cries. “No!”

But their cries of dismay are sounds of joy to my ears. It’s confirmation that my eyes aren’t playing tricks on me.

I chose the last red poppet seed.

Hiticas looks across to Pelk as their remaining red poppet seed is also found. “We have our chosen hunters!”

We hear the drone of a ship above us and look up to see a descending Taraquet shuttle. A buzz of excitement transcends from the sixty-plus warriors who stand statue-still transfixed, eyes on the shuttle as it heads for the top of the hill where we first saw the Prumiqions.