Changed: Mated to the Alien Alpha (The Omega Colony, #1)

by Robin Moray

“Back in the old days they used to ship prostitutes out to mining crews, to keep the men happy.” The guy who says this is a great big bear of a guy, with a thick black beard and huge hairy hands. He sounds like he walked right out of a Assholes Anonymous meeting.

“Cameron,” I say, touching my chest with both hands. Then I gesture up to him. It doesn’t always work. On Yuanfang III it nearly got someone eaten, because it looked too close to the ritual sign for ‘I offer myself up graciously for consumption’. I’m betting that’s not going to happen again.

He has that look straight guys get when they watch gay porn, reluctant arousal and confusion and vague fear.

“You know,” I say, rolling onto my back, “it almost sounds like you’ve never set up a lure before.” “I haven’t. Rocks don’t need luring. They’re just there, right where you left them. They rarely go places.”

Speaking of things that won’t leave me alone, Mike comes over to frown at me some more. “So what are we going to do now? I mean now that you’ve stopped having sex with an alien,” he adds, unnecessarily. I have no idea. “Um.”

He watches me curiously, and then he reaches out to almost-but-not-quite touch the recorder. I think for a second he’s going to grab it but he doesn’t, just politely hovers his hand, looking up at me. He wants permission. And I want to show him but handing my recorder to an alien feels completely wrong. Though I let him suck my dick. And he didn’t break that. Maybe I’m being unreasonable.

“Yeah. I had another bout of the cramps today. But a heat pack and, uh. Judicious application of friction,” I say, feeling ridiculous even before I hear Mike snort behind me, “and it cleared right up.”

I look at the scan again. I can look at it without freaking out if I pretend it’s not my scan but someone else’s. Actually, that’s fine. I can be objective. It’s actually kind of fascinating. “Wow, do you think it works?” Mike makes a sound like a boiling camp kettle.

“Anything you boys want to tell me?” “Um.” Mike glares at me like he’s trying to set me on fire. “Yeah, Cam, anything you want to tell your doctor? Maybe about something you might have put in your mouth today?”

“Listen,” I tell him, “can’t you give me one of those injections? Or implants or whatever? I don’t know, the thing that stops you getting pregnant.” He glares at me. “Can’t you just try using a fucking condom?” “Oh, yeah, because I’m going to try explaining that to a seven foot tall alien. ‘Hey, Tal’jen, just let me put this on your dick for a sec.’” I try to imagine it, and I laugh so hard I end up hiccuping. “Or maybe,” Mike says loudly, “you could try not having sex with him? Maybe you could try that.”

“Great. Oh, and Cameron?” He blinks at me from behind his glasses, big-eyed and innocent-looking. “If you get yourself pregnant to an alien I’m going to make you carry that baby to term. For science. And for pissing me off. Okay? Good talk.” So. Pretty mad after all.

heat I will be there to provide for him everything that he needs. I long for this, and I tell him, “I will mate you thoroughly, I swear to you, that your cries will wake the ancestors from their slumbers.”

“How brave of you, to insult a man who cannot understand you. How clever of you, to criticize him on your first impression before you know his true strengths and weaknesses. How kind of you, to do so to my face, before so many. You are truly a great man. It is a pity that you will never be First among us. What wonders you would have achieved, had you led us with all your courage, and cleverness, and kindness.”

“Okay. So they think you’re ‘fertile’ and Leo’s ‘virile’. What the hell does that make me?” “Pre-pubescent,” I tell him, and the look on his face is too hilarious for words.

“You’re not going to grow a womb,” I tell him, but he gives me a stubborn look. “You don’t know that! I always catch whatever’s going around, I’m very susceptible to things. So if ‘wombs’ are going around I’m probably going to catch one!”

As we go people call out to me. “Cameron! Well done!” or, “Congratulations!” or, “Tal’jen’s mate!” and the exquisitely embarrassing, “Golden buttocks!” which makes me nearly fall down on my face. Golden buttocks? Have they been calling me this the whole time or is it new? Dja’ar sees the look of my face and snorts with amusement. “They are delightfully golden,” he says, as if that’s a normal thing to say to your friend’s boyfriend.

“Tal’jen says he claimed you in front of his village. He also said,” and Karl makes a face. “Did he knot you? Like a canid?” “I wouldn’t know the answer to any of that,” I tell him, heat flooding my face and giving me away one hundred percent.