The Spur of the Platypus

Don’t mess with the mate of a platypus, or you’ll feel the pain of his venom.

Flex had no idea that when a friend that he presumed dead, would come to his beach, not only with an army, but his mate. Flex’s life is forever changed, when he has to fight his instincts to protect his mate, Prescott, when the anti-venom can stand on his own.

With Mission Territory being taken back, the two will have to travel back, facing dangers, while having to figure out how two opposites can make a mating work as a territory war continues.

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The Spur of the Platypus

Copyright © 2015 Jackie Nacht

ISBN: 978-1-4874-0317-1

Cover art by Latrisha Waters

All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.

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Devine Destinies, an imprint of eXtasy Books Inc

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The Spur of the Platypus

Venomous Mates Book Five

By

Jackie Nacht

To T.t.-Thank you for all your help with research and the wonderful pictures of inspiration. These Blue Angels are for you. Hugs.

Flex listened to Abby.

“We really need a sanctuary for about fifty of our family.”

Never in Flex’s life would he have expected a scenario such as this one to pop up on his beach. House fifty while the rest of the venom on the beach go and fight to take back Mission Territory? Why in the hell would they trust him? The only one he really knew was Striker and vaguely Boone.

However, Flex was really going to have to thank his friend later for bringing Flex’s mate to him. What were the chances of that happening? He could already feel the need to take down everyone around him with his spurs. It couldn’t be helped. As a platypus venom, his venom was solely to protect his mate, and that meant any fucker within a ten-yard radius of him. It didn’t matter if the guy was friend or foe. He was near what nature was saying was Flex’s perfect match.

Too bad the guy was giving him the stink eye. Hmm, it was as if he already didn’t like Flex. And Flex hadn’t even done anything...yet. Well, Prescott—that’s what Striker said his name was—was going to have to get used to him.

Wait. Flex focused back on what Abby had asked him. That was fine and dandy. They could all go off and fight, and he could play the babysitter except...

“He’s not fighting, is he?” Flex tilted his head toward Prescott.

“Yes,” Prescott said next to him.

Yeah, Prescott hadn’t been on the beach five minutes, and Flex was already laying claim to the guy. Flex wasn’t blind. He knew what Prescott was to him even if the anti-venom didn’t yet.

“No. You’re staying, Prescott,” Kalder said firmly.
I like this guy already!

“I can handle myself. I’ve done it for over twenty years, Kalder,” Prescott argued.

Kalder shook his head. “If any of the anti-venom got caught, you would be living in hell if you lived at all. We don’t even know what we’re walking into. Some of us wouldn’t be focused on the battle, only on protecting you.”

“I’m not mated,” Prescott insisted.

Oh but you are. You just don’t know it yet.
Flex eyed Prescott, and he was staring daggers at Flex. Huh, maybe he did know they were mates. Flex smirked.

“I’ll let the others stay if he does,” Flex said, and he chucked a thumb toward Prescott.

“What?” Prescott shouted. “Who the hell said you could make decisions on my life?”

“You want sanctuary, you play by my rules. You stay or they go,” Flex said cockily. It was an asshole ultimatum, but Prescott wasn’t going to fight. At least until Flex got to see how well Prescott could protect himself. No fucking way.

The beach quieted down as they faced off against one another. Boy, if looks could kill... Flex stared back with a challenging smirk. God, he was in love already.

“I’ll stay,” Prescott said through gritted teeth.

TL chuckled within the group that had gathered. “Well, now that we got the tiny lovers’ quarrel out of the way. Let’s get down to business, shall we?”

Flex waggled his brow at his friend Striker. Prescott stalked away.

Striker came up and clapped him on the back. “Thank you.”

The rest of the venom thanked him before they walked off to gather weapons for the travel to Mission Territory.

Flex stared at the huge number of venom and anti-venom on his beach, wondering what the fuck Striker was thinking bringing them there.
Was this really going to happen? Had it come to war already?

He loved the quiet life. That’s why Flex lived in Point Loma with his fellow platypuses. He just wanted to live peacefully away from all the power-hungry assholes in Venom City.

Flex stared at his longtime friend, Striker. He rubbed his chest at the thought that Striker had survived. All these months, he thought his friend was gone. When Flex saw what happened to Striker’s parents, he thought for sure Striker had been killed. Striker’s eyes showed that the venom had been through too fucking much in the last year. He was jumpy, wary and his eyes were haunted except when he gazed upon his mates, Rio and TL.

Flex’s own gaze flicked to Prescott standing in the crowd. He was smaller, maybe five feet six inches, with brown, shaggy hair that kept falling into dark-brown eyes, but damn if he wasn’t standing with authority. He was giving directions and helping venom out as they settled on the beach from a long journey. God, he was beautiful. Tan and strong willed. Flex blatantly adjusted his cock in his shorts just thinking of what he wanted to do to his anti-venom.

Green stepped up next to him. “What do you think?”

“I think I want him.” Flex winked at Prescott.

Prescott gave him a droll stare before he got the children in a circle and started bringing them food.

Green coughed. “That much was obvious. I was talking more about the large number of venom we have sunning themselves on our beach. The fight they are about to travel to.”

Flex eyed his best friend.

Green smiled widely at him with full lips and rubbed the brown fur on the top of his head with his slightly webbed hands. It was the only place on Green’s tan body that he held the fur of the Platypus, which wasn’t a lot compared to many of his kind. However, his friend definitely had more of the traits of the platypus show through than Flex. Green even had the beaver tail where Flex only had the slightly webbed fingers and the venomous spurs near his Achilles.

“I think that we better find some room.” Flex crossed his arms as he watched several platypuses tentatively greet the newcomers.

“You don’t think that this will make us a target?” Green asked quietly as a couple venom passed by.

“We’re already a target. We’ve been hiding from the enemy, and it was only a matter of time before they found us. Look at Striker and his family. Do we want to fall to the same fate? Fuck no, I don’t.” Flex pulled at his lower lip with his fingers as he scanned the beach. He eyed their leaders. These leaders had loved ones in captivity. They all had a common goal. Protect and find their family.

“Trust is hard for me,” Green mumbled as he rubbed the back of his neck as a—
shit
—poison dart frog walked by them. They really did travel with a lot of different kinds of venom.

“Me too, but I think it’s time we learn to try. They’re asking for us to protect their little ones while they fight to protect us all. They’re trusting us. It’s time we trust them.” Flex’s gaze veered to Prescott again. The man just kept drawing Flex in. “I want to help them fight,” Flex murmured.

“I thought you would.” Green sighed next to him.

“Round up the other platypuses. We need to come up with a way to protect the children while we have a team go in and help.” Flex’s mind was working on where they could settle the kids down and keep them away from the eyes of wandering travelers up to no good.

“I’ll go and get the rest, but what are you going to do about him?” Green pointed to Prescott. “You said he couldn’t go.”

“He won’t be going. If I have to tie his ass down myself and have the others watch him, I will.” Flex scanned the crowd, searching for Striker. He would not see someone else he cared about fall into the wrong hands.

“You’re already fucking up with him, you know?” Green voiced his thoughts.

Flex scrubbed a hand over his face and sighed. “I know, and he’ll be pissed, but at the end of the day, he’ll be safe and not in the hands of monsters.”

“You never do anything easy, do you?” Green chuckled.

Flex chuckled. “No. Now go. I have a mate to piss off.”

Prescott could feel that damn platypus’s eyes on him again. He wanted to look over his shoulder and stare at Flex but wouldn’t give the bastard the satisfaction. Flex knew he was good looking; he didn’t need Prescott to confirm or inflate that ego. And, boy, was he handsome.

Whatever Prescott had imagined the platypuses to look like, nothing came close to the real deal. Flex had a wide, full mouth with a dimple that, try as he might not to, Prescott kept returning to look at. He glanced over his shoulder again, and Flex smiled at him. Prescott rolled his eyes and swiftly looked down at the tan, wet muscles.
Couldn’t someone give the damn venom a shirt?

His hair was swept back, and even wet, Prescott could tell that it was brown with pale-blond streaks in it. Flex must live in the sun. And Prescott was still staring. Clearing his throat, Prescott turned to stare at his friend Reese.

Reese was chuckling.

“What?” Prescott passed one of the little ones some dried meat.

Reese snorted. “Nothing. It’s just...” Reese snorted again.

Reese, Leif, Julius and he had been through a ton together. From surviving in the wild to being hunted because they were anti-venom, and for his friends, they found love in a world that was filled with violence and hate. Prescott was happy for his friends. It was good to see Reese smiling after all the years of suffering.

However... “Spill, Reese.”

Reese glanced over at Leif who was sitting next to Prescott. “I think you’ve met him.”

Prescott raised a brow. “Who?”

Shy, quiet Julius out and out laughed. “You know who. Flex. He’s the one.”

“Flex wants a piece of ass, and he’s a manipulator by keeping me out of the fight.” Prescott was still angry about that. There were a lot of people he considered family going to fight, and he wanted to help.

“Uh...no. He’s protecting you. You know what that means?” Reese waggled his brows.

“That Flex doesn’t know me very well.” Prescott gave his three friends a droll stare.

Dammit, he had been protecting his friends for years. They were his family. He didn’t need the protection. He might be smaller, but he always used that to his advantage and always came out on top.

Leif chuckled. “You’re mates. Just accept it.”

Prescott chucked his thumb over his shoulder. “To Flex? No way. He may be good looking, but well...hell, he knows it. Flex isn’t my type anyway. Honestly, I don’t know whether to smack the smirk off his face or kiss him. And he knows that, which ticks me off.”

Julius stared at him, whispering, “I think Flex is exactly what you need.”

Prescott shook his head. “The platypus doesn’t have a serious bone in his body, and we are on the brink of war.”

Every night, Prescott slept with a weapon. He couldn’t even lie down without one from having to do it for years.
Fuck, when was the last time that I actually slept, like really slept? Had I ever?
The constant fear of losing one of his friends made it so he spent a lifetime on guard, nights where he was panicked that one of them would be dragged off into the darkness.

Yeah, his friends were mated, and their mates were ruthlessly protective. But how did you stop after years of worrying?

Reese reached over and grabbed Prescott’s hand. “You know I love you, but I think he’s exactly what you need. You need fun, love and to laugh. You’ve...” Reese took a deep breath. “You’ve been strong for all of us for so long that it’s time you enjoy a little of life. Get to know him before you make a decision. You shouldn’t just slam the door.”