Convicted of the attempted assassination of a prominent alien chancellor, Cyrax, a Vorrian killer-for-hire, is spared the death sentence. Instead, in a show of mercy, is exiled to planet Earth by the Judiciary—a fate the alien criminal deems worse than death.

Teleported to the middle of the remote Northern deserts of Western Australia, he decides to survive out of pure spite. Trekking to the nearest coastal human settlement, he chances upon a particularly beautiful specimen of humanity—Damien Rokewood, champion surfer, and as the multiverse would have it … his destined mate!

Be Warned: m/m sex

Cyrax (MM)
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Cover Art by Jay Aheer

“The Intergalactic Judiciary has unanimously found the Vorrian prisoner—known as Cyrax—guilty of the attempted assassination of the Chancellor of Artoria,” says the Voice.

No shit. I roll my eyes.

“Taking into account the mercy shown by the convicted,” the Voice continues, “The Death Penalty has been waived, and instead Exile is our decision.”

Fucking great. What ass-end of the multiverse are they going to abandon me to? I wonder. I suppose it doesn’t really matter. There hasn’t been a backwater rock I haven’t been able to escape yet.

“In an effort to keep the convicted as far from the Chancellor as possible, and eliminate the opportunity for further assignments, we have selected a planet in the Milky Way galaxy called Earth. Its species does not yet possess the capability for interstellar travel and will not for several light-years to come. We are sufficiently satisfied that the criminal will have no chance for escape or recidivism.”

“Fuck, no!” I slam my laser-cuffed hands on the metallic benchtop in front of me. “What mercy is this?” I shout. Heat, hot and furious, rises within me. “Just kill me! I’d rather be dead than live among humans! They’re basically hairless apes. You can’t be serious?”

“And this is precisely why we are certain of the selected sentence,” replies the Voice with clinical calm. “It is our hope that time spent among humankind will teach you the error of your ways, and give you pause for thought about the sanctity and value of life. This hearing is adjourned. Transport the prisoner.”

“Wait! Fuck. I demand an appeal!”

The shimmering hologram disappears, leaving me in the dark of my cell.

“Connection terminated,” says the feminine voice of the automated system responder.

My usually cool demeanor evaporates and my temper boils over. I throw myself around the cell like a caged animal, spewing the vilest Vorrian obscenities I can think of. “This is fucking bullshit!” I rage.

“Prepare for teleportation,” announces the system responder.

Blue light fills the room, temporarily blinding me. I roar in indignation as the glow envelops my form, swallowing me whole. In a microsecond it’s over. Intergalactic travel has come a long way since the days of my ancestors. Catapulting through time and space, witnessing the turn of planets and galaxies colliding, is a thing of the distant past. Now, everything is literally instantaneous—here one second, there the next.

It doesn’t take long for my eyes to adjust to the darkness. It’s night, and I’m in the middle of fucking nowhere. An arid wasteland stretches out in all directions around me. “Fucking excellent. Teleported into the middle of a bloody desert! Are you serious?” I ask for the second time. “Fuckers.” I kick at the gritty red sand in frustration. The landscape is desolate, and the stars above are foreign to me. What the fuck do I do? These basic-ass bitches don’t have the tech I need to escape this damn rock, so I’m stuck, just like the Intergalactic Judiciary said I would be. This is where I rot. I am condemned.

As far as I can see, I have two choices, albeit both are fucking shit. I either lay down right here and die and give the humans something to prod at and study someday. Or I endure out of sheer bloody spite as a cosmic fuck you! to the Judiciary. It’s not a hard decision. I’ll be fucked if I’m going to end up some experimental exhibit for monkeys, and I’m sure as hell not going to let one failed assignment be the death of me.

If only it hadn’t been for that damn kid! I sigh. I might be one of the most lethal assassins around, but even as a killer-for-hire I have my own code. No kids. Ever. But there’s no point dwelling on the what ifs and what could have been. Earth is where I’m at, and there’s nothing to be done but survive this fucking thing. Setting my sights on the hills in the far-off distance, I start to walk.


 The scent of the sea reaches me long before it’s within sight. The stars fly overhead, and the sun begins to rise at my back, meaning I’m headed west, and am likely in the Southern Hemisphere. One of my earliest memories learning about this butt plug, back-end planet is that the singular sun that orbits this rock rises in the east and sets in the west.

“All right. Let’s see what this shithole is like firsthand.” By sunrise proper the red dirt gives way to salt scrub and white sandy dunes, and then, the vast, glittering expanse of blue shocks me to my core. It’s beautiful. The coastline is endless, and the sky is the purest shade of cerulean I’ve ever seen. Gulls squawk, riding the wind, as the white-capped surf crests and crashes some distance from the beach—no doubt breaking over a continental shelf or reef. Beyond that, the waves are gentler, dying upon the pristine shore with a foamy sigh.

It might be backward, but it’s pretty, I muse. Some ways out, I spy a lone figure. It carves up the rolling waves on a board of some sort, cruising effortlessly through the tunnels of water to erupt triumphantly out the other side, the salt spray crashing behind them. Consciously focusing my natural second layer of lenses, I make out the figure in perfect definition. Bronzed skin, long tangled blond hair, blue eyes, and a surprisingly pleasing muscular form … a human.

I swallow the curious lump in my throat and take an involuntary step forward. The examples of humanity I saw briefly during my years of interstellar study were not so attractive. They appeared pale, soft, and wore bland expressions. This human’s eyes glitter in the morning light with a fire that speaks of passion, and his body is anything but soft. His sun-kissed skin gleams, sparkling with water droplets.

I wonder if there are others like this one. The human suddenly glances up. I’m uncertain of just how clear their vision is, but it’s plainly obvious he catches sight of me. His mouth falls open and in the next second he’s wiped out. Tumbling from his board, he’s swallowed by the hungry surf. Fuck.

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