Surviving My Deadly Contract Beast Husbands

Kenzie pushed herself off the bedroom floor, her legs still feeling like lead. She stumbled toward the en-suite bathroom, pushing the frosted glass door open. She gripped the edges of the marble sink. She turned the faucet on full blast and shoved her hands under the freezing water. She splashed it over her face, letting the shock of the cold ground her. She looked up. The woman staring back at her in the mirror was stunning. Sharp cheekbones, full lips, and flawless skin. But her eyes looked cruel. Entitled. She hated the reflection immediately. She closed her eyes and dug into the original Kenzie's memories, searching for anything useful. Money. Weapons. Allies. All she found was an obsession. Kayson French. A Major in the imperial fleet. The original Kenzie had thrown away her dignity and her fortune trying to buy his attention with rare gifts and luxury ships. She tapped the sleek, metallic terminal wrapped around her left wrist. The biometric scanner flashed green. She pulled up the banking app. The numbers floating in the holographic projection were bright, glaring red. Negative two million credits. Her stomach dropped. She swiped to the next screen. A dozen overdue notices from elite credit institutions flashed in front of her eyes. She wasn't just marked for death by her husbands. She was completely bankrupt. She slammed her fist onto the marble counter. Pain shot up her arm, but she didn't care. "Stupid bitch," she hissed at the mirror. "Warning," Sev's voice echoed in her head. "If the minimum payment is not met within thirty days, your privileges as a female will be revoked. You will be exiled to the outer wasteland planets." Her chest tightened. Exile meant death. "How do I unlock the subspace?" she asked out loud, her voice tight. "I have supplies in there. I need them." "The subspace is bound to your biological frequency," Sev replied. "Your current physical vessel is extremely weak. You must reach Level 3 biological enhancement to unlock the first tier." She pulled up the interstellar encyclopedia on her terminal. Enhancement primarily came from absorbing the energy cores of alien beasts in the hunting zones. But there was a catch. For a female to break through the initial bottleneck and reach Level 3, she required 'Bio-Synergy'—a deep spiritual and physical energy exchange with high-level contract beast-husbands. She stared at her thin, manicured hands. She couldn't even open a jar of pickles right now, let alone fight a monster. She needed muscle. She needed her husbands. She grabbed a plush towel and aggressively dried her face. She needed to fix this. She needed to show them she was useful. She tossed the towel aside and walked out of the bathroom. She crept out of the bedroom and into the massive, silent hallway of the mansion. The lights flickered. The place felt dead. As she neared the top of the grand staircase, a low murmur of voices drifted up from the basement level. She stopped. She pressed her back against the cold stone of a decorative pillar, holding her breath. She peeked over the edge of the railing. Josue was leaning heavily against a rusted iron door at the bottom of the stairs. His chest heaved. Standing next to him was a man with dark, messy hair and eyes like shattered ice. Alfie. Alfie's hands glowed with a faint, pale blue light as he hovered them over Josue's bleeding chest. He was using a water-healing ability. "You should have snapped her neck," Alfie said. His voice was quiet, but the hatred in it was thick enough to choke on. "She's a parasite, Josue." Josue winced as the blue light touched a deep cut. "If I kill her now, the court executes all of us. You know the law." Alfie clenched his jaw. The muscle ticked violently under his pale skin. "Two months," Josue rasped. He looked down at his own blood-stained hands. "When the trial period ends and the divorce is finalized, I'm going to rip her organs out while she's still breathing. I'll feed her to the rot-blossoms." A chill violently ripped down her spine. The hairs on her arms stood up. They weren't just angry. They were methodically planning her butchery. Alfie sighed, the blue light fading from his hands. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, crushed plastic tube. The liquid inside was a sickly, cloudy yellow. "Take this," Alfie said, holding it out. "It's the last nutrient pack." Josue pushed Alfie's hand away. "Give it to Buren. He's starving." Alfie's eyes darkened. "She hasn't let us eat in a week, Josue. You're bleeding out." Her heart stopped. A week. She had starved them for a week. She backed away from the railing, her steps completely silent. She pressed her hands over her mouth to muffle her breathing. Apologies wouldn't work. Promises wouldn't work. She needed food. Now.