Ferocious E-Book

Nova Edwins

• Herausgeber: Black Umbrella Publishing
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 114

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2024

Beschreibung

To protect my little brother, I plead guilty to three counts of theft. I have no prior convictions, so I should be safe, right? Wrong. The judge has had a bad day and orders me to leave the mining station my family lives on. Next stop: Corudeen 7, the infamous outlaw prison planet. I've heard everyone there has gone insane. I've heard all men on the planet have turned feral. I've also heard those ferocious men haven't seen a woman in forever … An over-the-top dark reverse harem sci-fi romance novella with  five possessive Viking hunks—equipped with fangs and a soft spot in their hearts.

Leseprobe

FEROCIOUS

NOVA EDWINS

A DARK REVERSE HAREM SCI-FI ROMANCE NOVELLA

CONTENTS

Ferocious

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Epilogue

About Nova Edwins

FEROCIOUS

To protect my little brother, I plead guilty to three counts of theft. I have no prior convictions, so I should be safe, right?

Wrong.

The judge has had a bad day and orders me to leave the mining station my family lives on. Next stop: Corudeen 7, the infamous outlaw prison planet.

I've heard everyone there has gone insane. I've heard all men on the planet have turned feral. I've also heard those ferocious men haven't seen a woman in forever …

An over-the-top dark reverse harem sci-fi romance novella with five possessive Viking hunks—equipped with fangs and a soft spot in their hearts.

1

"Is this absolutely necessary?" My brother asks as he points to the force field encircling my wrists that makes sure that I don't tackle the guards to the ground—the guards who easily each have a hundred pounds of muscle on me while being armed to their teeth.

"It's standard procedure," one comments as he takes a look around to make sure no one is watching before they both step back. "You have two minutes."

Two minutes doesn't seem to be a lot if it's all you have left to say goodbye to your younger brother—even if that younger brother is technically responsible for your being in this mess in the first place.

Lloyd's lower lip is quivering, and I know he's trying really hard not to cry. My eyes are dry since I already cried all night and somehow managed to pull myself together this morning. What's done is done, I guess.

"Don't cry." My voice is low so that I don't embarrass him in front of his … whoever those guys are that he brought along.

"This is all my fault, Willow." He lifts his chin, but the gesture is weak.

"No, it's mine. I should've known better than to take the blame for you again. However, for you it would've probably been a death sentence, whereas I'm a first-time offender."

Life on Senka, the mining station we grew up on, isn't easy, which is why Lloyd fell for the promises of the local gang. They present you with the illusion of a nice life with lots of credits for easy work that isn't backbreaking and detrimental to your health like slaving away in the mines is. We both saw our parents deteriorate from the hard labor, their health melting away as the years progressed. While I took on a second and third job waitressing tables and scrubbing floors, Lloyd started running with the AMC, the Anti-Mining Coalition.

He makes good money, too. So far, he's paying for our parents' medicine with credits to spare. But he also happens to get caught—a lot. My younger brother is smart; unfortunately, though, he has a very short attention span, and forgets to guard the entrance like he is supposed to or forgets to disarm the security personnel.

So, when he got caught again, and we knew it was bad, I took the blame to save him. I wasn't happy about it, but I know that I can't afford to pay for rent, food and medicine on my own.

Instead of getting a mild sentence for being a first-time offender, I was harshly punished by the judge, who was apparently having a bad day, and was sentenced to life on Corudeen 7, the infamous prison planet. I have heard some rumors, but I truly have no idea what to expect.

"Look, I have this amazing opportunity⁠—"

Before my brother can finish his sentence, I jab my index finger into his chest. "No. You're going to take care of our parents. No more funny business. No more low-level criminal activities for the AMC. Do you understand me?"

"I'm about to be promoted." Lloyd pleads with guilty eyes. "I will get you back from Corudeen 7."

"You need to promise me to take care of our parents. Promise me!" My finger digs deeper and Lloyd winces.

"Okay, okay. I promise."

"Time's up." The guards are back, and I can barely manage a quick hug before they pull me away.

They walk me to the ramp leading into the transport shuttle that will take us to Corudeen 7.

Transport shuttles are never pretty, yet this one's downright depressing. Everything is gray. The floor, the walls, the ceiling, the cells.

I swallow hard as I eye the holding cells. They're secured by force fields holding the inmates in, similar to the force field around my wrists that prohibits me from freeing myself. Still, it seems like an awfully low-security measure to contain rapists and murderers.

I'm aware that most of them pretend to be innocent, but not one of the men I see as we walk through the first corridor looks out of place.

I see facial tattoos, bulging muscles, crooked noses and leery eyes.

"Hey, hey, bring her here so I can pass the time better," snarls one of the inmates as he steps close to the force field while undressing me with his hungry gaze.

The guards just chuckle, leading me farther down the hallway. Each cell contains at least two or three men, and the comments get worse with each passing second. They want to see my tits and to fuck me, and some of them even proclaim to want to take a bite out of me, and I'm afraid they're talking literally.

I try not to listen to them while simultaneously trying not to think about my future. If I get dropped with those men onto a foreign planet I know nothing about … let's just say I'm smart enough to calculate my chances of survival.

I stare at my wrists under the force field. Since they stripped me of everything—jewelry, accessories and my own clothing—I have no weapon or anything else on me that I could use to defend myself. My last resort will probably be chewing my arteries open. Not that I want to die, but I also don't want to get raped to death by sixty or more men.

Speaking of men … I crane my neck to look around when we arrive at the last cell. One of the guards leads me inside and releases the force field around my wrists.

"Where are all the other women? Am I on the wrong floor? Maybe?" My voice is way more timid than I'm comfortable with. I can feel my heart racing in my chest. This is bad. Really, really bad.

The guard casts me a sympathetic look. "There are no other women. Usually they don't get sent to Corudeen 7. Your brother certainly rubbed the wrong people the wrong way, girl."

Since the man is old enough to be my grandfather, I let his calling me "girl" slide. This is not the time to ride principles.

"No women?" If I thought I had already cried all my tears last night, I was clearly wrong. I feel fresh ones running over my cheeks.

"No." The other guard shakes his head and motions for his colleague to leave my cell so he can close the force field.

"I think it's been four or five standard years since the last woman was sent to Corudeen 7. Good luck." His smile is weak as he turns his back to me and starts walking away.

The force field is now active, containing me in my cell. There's not even a bench in here. My back is against the wall as I slide down until I can hug my knees. Desperation has me in its grasp, and I don't know what to do.

"Hey, don't cry." The man in the cell across from mine smiles at me, trying to cheer me up. As far as I can tell, he's the only other person alone in his cell—like me. Maybe it's to protect him from the other men because he's not that dangerous.

My hope vanishes as he hurries to the back of his cell and comes back dragging a corpse.

"You don't need to cry now, darling," he purrs as he props the dead body up until it looks like the cadaver is doing the dead version of a child's pose—shins on the ground, facedown, with his forehead touching the ground.

The other inmate pulls the corpse's pants down. "Let me give you a preview so you know when to cry."

I watch with horror as he opens his own pants and fists his already hard cock. Oh no, he's not going to do this to a corpse, is he?

He is.

But I only catch a glimpse of him pushing his pelvis forward before a hissing sound fills my cell. I look up and see some kind of dark-blue fog coming from the vents in the ceiling. Is this gas? Are they going to kill us because there is no Corudeen 7?

That would at least explain why no one ever comes back.

At this point, I’m thinking that I'll probably welcome death. I still don't want to die, but I also don't want to endure any of what's to come.

The inmate inhales deeply, his pants down around his ankles, and shakes his head. "What the hell?" His voice is weirdly flat and distorted.

Or maybe that's the drugs that are flowing out of the ceiling vents, because my cell starts spinning around me, my limbs go weak and then I lose consciousness.

2

Birds are chirping over my head as I wake up. There's moss underneath my fingers and huge, beautiful trees with luscious green leaves surrounding me. Remembering where I was when I lost consciousness, I jerk up, frantically looking around.

It seems like I'm alone. I'm still wearing the ugly yellow jumpsuit that all the convicts wore on the transport, but it isn't bloody or torn, and I feel like I'm still in one piece.

I get up, brushing the moss from my butt, and take a deep breath. The air is clean and crisp, and the leaves are rustling in the wind—it's like the perfect fairytale forest. I bet if a fawn happens to come along, I would be able to talk to it.

After I take a full spin and still see no one else, it dawns on me. Fuck. I'm dead and this is heaven. It must be.

My knees are still wobbly, and I can't tell how long I've been out—or dead. The forest looks like I remember it from Earth when I was very little, right before we relocated to the mining station because it was the only place to find work.

But on Earth the sky didn't have a faint pink glow. So far, that's the only difference I can see.

I take a first step, carefully looking around before I take another step. The tree bark feels normal under my hand so at least I'm not some astral being that can't touch anything. I feel lost as I wander through the forest waiting for someone or something to show up and explain to me what to do now.

When I hear steps that rustle the leaves and crunch tiny branches, though, I hide behind the next big trunk, my heart hammering in my chest.

"Hi, um, hey there. I couldn't help but notice your yellow jumpsuit. You can come out. I'm not going to harm you." A nervous chuckle follows the words, and it sounds sincere.

Looking around, I spot the limb of a tree, ending in a knot that makes it almost seem like a baseball bat, lying on the ground. Better than nothing, I guess. I pick the large branch up, and it feels sturdy enough.

Crouching low behind the trunk, I lean to the side and catch a glimpse of the voice's owner.

It's a man, but he's smaller than me and very thin, almost puny. I'm fairly certain I could take him. Unless he's not alone. My gaze wanders along the underbrush, but I'm not familiar with this place and can't tell if everything looks like it's supposed to look or if someone dressed like a bush is sitting right behind me.

"It's okay. I wouldn't trust myself if I were you either. This is a scary place. I'm just going to set up my camp here and start a fire. You must be hungry and thirsty. Are they still using that gas to knock people out?"

I'm not answering since I don't want to give away my location. My parents might not have been rich, but they made sure not to raise two fools. Although, I have to admit that those lessons seem to have taken better with me than Lloyd.

I stay hidden, watching as the guy proceeds to do what he said he'd do.

Since he knows about the gas, I'm fairly certain he also took the shuttle to Corudeen 7, which means I'm not dead. At this point, I'm not sure if I feel annoyed or relieved at the realization. It also means the guy is a convicted criminal.

"Since I don't have anything better to do, how about I give you the rundown of this place?" He looks around, but his gaze doesn't linger long enough in my direction to indicate that he's spotted me. His clothes look shabby, and he seems haggard, and I feel pity for him. It's almost impossible to tell how old he is, but I think he might be around my age—although I get the feeling that he’s had a tougher twenty-five years than I have.