StarPyre

I didn’t realize that you would act so soon.”
“You think I planned this?” he hissed, clenching the hair in his hand tightly. “I was trying to calm her down to protect you from another injury while healing her. My goal wasn’t to get my cock sucked and ridden, especially in front of both of you.”
“I averted my eyes once I saw that she wasn’t attacking you,” I mumbled.
His eyes softened.
“I didn’t!” Auro called out.
My head snapped to our captain. “You watched them?”
“It was one of the hottest things I’ve seen in a while. Hotter than the shows they broadcast in the entertainment district on the space stations.” He shrugged. “Of course I watched. What else is there to do within these four walls?”
“I don’t know! Grant them some privacy?”
“Celyze,” he barked. “We are in prison. Our keepers have given us an ultimatum, and if we are going to attempt to follow through with their plans, we each will have to accept the lack of privacy.”
“I understand, but—”
“There is no ‘but,’ Celyze.” His eyes softened. “We all have to bond with her for any chance of survival. And that includes you—unless you want to refuse.”
“Which gives Auro and me about a fifty-fifty chance of living, if the Stars don’t want to guide us out of here,” Luwyn muttered.
They were right. For each member of the crew to survive, we had to bond with her. That would force us to share, which was rarely done within our species.
Could we live as a unit, sharing the same female? Was that our ultimate sacrifice? Our test?
I needed to determine whether I was willing to place my trust in the Cosmic Power that I’d followed all my life, and find a way to correct my unfortunate introduction to this female, to convince her to bond with me. My only other option was to use up all my energy to reach someone who could help us—even if I wasted away in the effort. Succumbing to energy drain was a better way to die than being eaten alive, but neither fate was appealing. In the end, a sacrifice had to be made.
My duty as a Cosmic Soul was to put others’ needs above mine. I just didn’t know what path would lead me there.

Seven
TORI
A hum of voices pulled me from my slumber.
How many times did I need to tell the next-door neighbors to quiet down during their intense gaming sessions? There were only so many days a girl could handle being woken up before three PM after partying until the sun rose. If they didn’t want to hear me moaning loudly every time I brought a one-night stand home, then they should manage their volume while playing tabletop games.
One of my damn neighbors always failed a ready check. If only the crazy Russian who lived next door did what his tablemates told him—microwaves existed for a reason, and that was to melt any die that loved to land on a one. But no, something about saving money and being cursed prevented him from throwing out the unlucky die.
I would know. They’d had this argument many times, and I’d had the privilege of overhearing every occurrence.
Groaning with my eyes closed, I lifted an arm to bang on the wall in hopes of getting them to shut up, only to connect with something hard and smooth.
When had I purchased a headboard for my bed?
Another rumble—a loud male voice—rolled through me in response.
These motherfuckers were mocking me. Didn’t they know not to fuck with a hungover woman, especially one they’d just woken up after a long night?
Growling, I banged harder, not caring how many other neighbors I pissed off with my protest. Served them right for allowing these gamers to make so much noise.
Knock . . .
Knock . . .
Right as I was about to slam my fist down for the third time, something—or someone—grabbed my wrist, sending a series of shocks up my arm, down my spine, and along my body. My cheeks burned as if someone had dripped hot wax on me, with flashes of sudden intense heat that cooled off rapidly.
Startled, I jerked my eyes open to find the world I thought I’d left in my dreams, spread out before me. The sapphire male from my fantasy stared down at me, his lips thinned into a scowl.
I’d appreciate it if you stopped punching me in the stomach, a tenor voice exploded in my head as the hand around my wrist tightened. I don’t understand why you’d want to attack someone who is only trying to help, but if you want your wings to heal properly, allow me to finish my job.
I tried to pull away, only for a pair of hands to grip my hips, holding me in place. Whipping my head from side to side, I tried to piece together what was happening, what was real, as I searched for someone to help me.
Yanking my wrist away, served to tighten his grip with each jerk.
“Let go of me!” I screamed, but my pleas fell on deaf ears.
Below me lay the emerald male that I’d thought I fucked in my dream—only this wasn’t a dream but a terrifying reality. My mind was too clear for me to be experiencing a drug-induced hallucination. I may have woken up groggy, but I was now suddenly, painfully aware of my surroundings and sure this was no dream.
A trace of wetness between my thighs provided evidence of what had happened the night before. The heat radiating from the male I was straddling as he held me felt too real.
The second emerald male paced beside his leader, inquiring something in their language as he stared at me intently. The male below me replied, and the deep timbre of his voice rolled through me in familiar waves.
Somehow, I had mistaken his voice for my neighbors’ muted chatter.
If they were all here and real, then my original assessment of the situation must have been correct. These three cosplayers had