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  Kraving Khiva

  The Krave of Everton Book 1

  Zoey Draven

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and events are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual events, places, or persons are purely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Stock Art: Depositphotos

  Cover Design: Zoey Draven

  Copyright © 2018 Zoey Draven

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Epilogue

  Sequel

  Mailing List

  Thank You!

  Also by Zoey Draven

  About the Author

  Prologue

  The hallway was dark, lit only by old world lanterns that hung from the low ceiling, casting a golden glow to light her path through their intricate iron design. The worn carpet muted her footsteps and though it was threadbare, it looked like it was from Old Earth and would’ve cost thousands of credits to purchase and install.

  The walls were lined in a red, sinful velvet. Eve reached out to touch it, feeling the rasping softness gliding over her sensitive fingertips and she shivered, swallowing the thick lump in her throat.

  Her body felt like it was buzzing with nerves, with anticipation, with a gut-churning nausea that she’d felt since the night before thinking about this moment.

  The brothel was well-known among the wealthier circle of the Everton colony. And while Eve was by no means as wealthy as some of the women that frequented Madame Allegria’s, she was more than willing to pay the steep price to visit one of the Krave for many reasons.

  The most pressing reason, however, was that she wanted her first experience with sex to be…exceptional.

  And she knew the Krave were legendary lovers with skills that human men simply couldn’t possess or replicate.

  Perhaps it was reckless to come to one of the Krave as a virgin, Eve thought. Perhaps it was foolish to spend close to a thousand credits for the opportunity.

  But she’d already paid…and she was already there. She wouldn’t back out now because of fear and uncertainty.

  There was only one door at the end of the hallway. It was a dark walnut wood that gleamed with polish, also imported from Old Earth, with gold strips hammered into the surface to create a geometric pattern.

  Eve stopped in front of the door, staring at the gold, seeing her distorted reflection in it. Then she stared at the lever. The girl at the entrance had told her to go right in, had told her that he would be waiting for her.

  Her heart was pounding so fast in her chest that it was hard to catch her breath. She wiped her palms on the green silk dress she’d chosen to wear, an old style, but timeless.

  Eve thought about what she would do if she turned around, right then, and left. If she let her fear win…

  She would take a driverless car back to the Garden District, she would enter her quiet townhouse, the one she used to share with her father, and she would sit by the fire that night and feel that bone-crushing feeling of disappointment and loneliness. In the morning, she would do her morning chores, she would dress for her shop job and work the day away, and then she’d go home once night fell over the colony, back to her townhouse to watch the fire.

  No.

  Eve felt a surge of courage. She wanted to feel connected to something, to someone. Even if it was only for one night and for nine hundred credits.

  With one last breath, she straightened her spine.

  She reached for the lever.

  Then she pushed the door open.

  Chapter One

  One week earlier…

  It was her birthday.

  Eve was 25 that day and though she was by no means old, she felt like it. She felt ancient.

  On the Everton colony, she was considered a spinster, past her prime and reproductive usefulness. For all of its technological innovations for a space colony, for all of its moral looseness and history of corruption, the Everton colony was backwards when it came to its female residents. If you weren’t married by 20 and producing children by 22, you were a lost cause, an outcast.

  Eve had read about the last two hundred years on Old Earth before it had become inhabitable. Women had been strong. Stronger than any time before, especially in her ancestral country of origin.

  On Everton, a woman was only as strong as her family’s wealth or her husband’s wealth.

  Well, Eve had no family. And she certainly had no husband.

  What she did have was the inheritance credits her father had left her. He’d left everything to her, the townhouse in the Garden District of Everton, whatever remained of his shipping vessels, every possession he had collected over the years as a well-traveled merchant trader.

  His death still weighed heavily on Eve, four years later. She’d loved him and he’d loved her. They had been thick as thieves, or so the Old Earth saying went.

  As she turned in the ornate gold mirror in her bedroom of the townhouse, as she looked at the simple pale lavender dress she’d chosen to wear for that night’s dinner, she wondered if her father would be proud of her. Would he wish that she had married already and started producing children like any good Everton woman would do?

  No, she knew. He’d always known her views on that. While Eve craved love, companionship, mutual respect in a partner, she never liked the strict path expected of Everton women. She wouldn’t marry for the sake of marrying or have children if she wasn’t ready.

  Eve was blessed that her father had been wealthy and well-respected among society, which gave her freedom from having to attach herself to a man after he died.

  But even at 25, she was starting to feel a little hopeless that she would ever find anyone.

  The melodic, mechanical chime of the doorbell rang through Eve’s residence. Her father had bought it from a collector who specialized in Old Earth luxury items because he liked the sound it made. He’d heard doorbells in old films and had been an avid collector of them since, changing out the chimes every once in a while in their townhouse. Eve walked over to the panel next to her bedroom door and tapped the glowing screen to show a video feed of the front door.

  Genni stood there, busy tapping away at the Nu device wrapped around her left wrist. Her only friend’s head snapped up when Eve allowed her entry by inputting the authorization code.

  Eve took one last look in the mirror and then departed from the room, before descending the first set of stairs to reach the bottom landing. Her bedroom occupied the middle floor. The top floor had be
en her father’s and she’d rarely ventured upstairs since his death.

  “Please tell me you just haven’t changed yet,” Genni said, wearing a short lime green dress that reached her mid-thigh and molded to her willowy, slim figure. When she turned slightly, Eve saw that the back dipped low, exposing her flawless skin.

  Eve sighed inwardly. She’d known Genni wouldn’t have approved of her conservative lavender dress that reached her knees. The straps were thin, baring her shoulders, and that was about as daring as Eve got. To dress it up, she wore a silver, ornate choker and platform heels that she worried she’d trip in once they reached Prince Avenue.

  But instead of reacting to Genni’s words—which was, no doubt, what her friend desired—Eve smiled and leaned forward to give her a brief embrace, followed by three kisses from cheek-to-cheek. An intimate greeting reserved only for close friends and extended family. Acquaintances would only receive one kiss and no embrace.

  Genni sighed, taking her silence as answer enough. Then she shook off her disappointment in Eve’s dinner attire and smiled broadly, “Happy birthday, Evelyn. I should’ve started with that, shouldn’t I have?”

  “Probably,” Eve said, “but I forgive you.”

  “As always,” Genni said before linking arms with her and dragging her to the front door. “I checked the schedule on my Nu and the tram is coming in five minutes, so let’s hurry.”

  After locking up, they hurried down the main drag of the Garden District. It was quiet. The Garden District was a wealthier neighborhood, far away from Princes Avenue and the rowdiness of Everton’s Night District.

  The sky had already darkened into evening and even displayed bright constellations. It was all programmed, of course, but Eve had always wondered what the real sky back on Earth would’ve looked like. What had the ancient civilizations seen that she had read so much about? Had it truly been as blue as the Programmers made it during the day on Everton?

  They reached the tram stop with a minute to spare and Eve listened to Genni happily chatter about her day working. She was a beautician in the Market District and she told Eve about a client that had come in earlier to dye her hair pink, of all things. While Everton residents loved bright colors in clothing attire, only two shades of hair color were seen as truly fashionable and those were blonde and blonder.

  Eve had black hair. She’d been doomed from the start of ever truly fitting in on Everton.

  Genni’s golden hair gleamed under the tram stop lights, which didn’t go unnoticed by a couple of men present. Eve watched discreetly as one pair of eyes slid to her friend’s hand, no doubt searching for the marriage mark. When he found none, his eyes slid over her body, clad in lime green. His eyes darted to Eve’s and his lips pursed at being caught, but his gaze held none of the desire he’d had for Genni. Only brief annoyance.

  A bright flashing light signaled the tram’s arrival and it slid to a stop silently, allowing passengers exit and entry. Genni and Eve snagged two seats in the brightly lit compartment, away from the two men who had been eyeing her friend, thankfully, and then the tram slid into smooth motion once more.

  “He’s handsome, isn’t he?” Genni asked softly, referring to the man who’d been watching her.

  “He was eyeing you like a prized mare,” Eve informed her, just as quietly.

  “Maybe I want to be a prized mare,” was all Genni replied. “Mares are expensive. And I want to be expensive.”

  Eve said nothing. Genni was a year younger than her, but 24 and unmarried was still a black mark against her friend, even though she had the classic look of an Everton beauty: golden hair, an ethereal, slim figure, and bright blue eyes.

  Genni had a reputation, the kind of reputation that respectable men didn’t want for their equally respectable future wife.

  They were both outcasts in a way, for two very opposite reasons.

  The tram slid into the Prince Avenue station a short while later. When they stepped out from the quiet compartment, they were immediately assaulted with the noise and music of the Night District. The music spilling out from the dance clubs they passed was the screeching, thumping kind that was so popular amongst the younger crowd, but that made Eve cringe.

  Being in the Night District made her nervous and on edge. The loud sounds, the press of drunken people, and the overpowering stench of alcohol and smoke from the nuvet pipes made Eve claustrophobic and sweaty.

  She stumbled in her platform heels when a drunk girl, no older than sixteen, crashed into her. The girl didn’t apologize, just laughed loudly, not only drunk but high, it seemed. Genni pushed her away, glaring, before pulling Eve further down the Avenue.

  “Stupid bitch,” Genni grumbled under her breath.

  The farther away from the tram station, the quieter it became and Eve suddenly felt like she could breathe again, savoring the cool breeze that brushed over her shoulders. It always amazed her, being in the Night District, witnessing the drunken debauchery that Everton’s young socialites always looked down their noses on. But Eve knew those same socialites had frequented the Night District in their schooling days and had done worse things.

  One street before Restaurant Row, they passed a darkened alley tucked between two towering, old world brick buildings. A woman suddenly emerged from the alley on shaking legs, startling them all.

  It was Genni who recovered first. “Mrs. Langley?”

  Mrs. Langley looked to be in her mid-thirties and her perfectly dyed blonde hair told Eve how Genni knew her.

  “Oh hello, Genni, dear,” Mrs. Langley replied, giving her a warm smile before leaning forward to give her two kisses on both cheeks. Even next to Genni, Eve could smell the faint hint of perfume, which didn’t quite cover the smell of sweat and…something else.

  Even though Mrs. Langley looked slightly disheveled, she screamed of wealth, from the softness of her skirt, to her well-manicured fingers, to her impeccable features. If Eve wasn’t mistaken, Mr. Langley just might be the Langley of Langley Liquor and Spirits, which she knew supplied most of the Night District with its booze, a lucrative endeavor.

  “What are you doing here?” Genni asked, putting on a polite smile, her eyes briefly straying to the alley that Mrs. Langley appeared from abruptly.

  Mrs. Langley flashed Genni what could only be described as a wicked smile and without saying a word, pointed to the small, gold engraving on one of the brick buildings encasing the alley.

  It simply read: Madame Allegria.

  Shock went through Eve and she looked at the alley with fresh eyes. It was a brothel. But why would a wealthy woman like Mrs. Langley be visiting a brothel in the Night District? Surely she could afford high-end male escorts.

  “Is that…” Genni trailed off, before saying, “Is that the Madame? The one who employs…”

  Mrs. Langley smiled and put her finger to her lips. Now, Eve knew that scent she couldn’t recognize was the scent of sex. Now she knew why Mrs. Langley looked so…unkempt.

  “Don’t tell my husband, dear,” the older woman said with a wink. Eve realized she didn’t care if her husband knew, that was why she wasn’t being discreet about it or why she didn’t seem worried that Genni saw her.

  “I wouldn’t dream of it,” Genni laughed. “You have to tell me all about them during your appointment on Thursday. Promise?”

  A driverless car pulled up next to the curb at that moment. The car was black with tinted windows.

  “I promise, dear,” Mrs. Langley murmured, stepping past them towards the car. She nodded to both of them as the car door slid open. “I must go, however. My husband is expecting me at a charity event. Good evening, ladies. Genni, I’ll see you in a couple days.”

  Then Mrs. Langley stepped in the car. And Eve swore the older woman moaned as she sat on the plush seats, right before the door slid shut and the driverless car sped away, leaving them staring after her.

  Eve looked behind her at the alley again and on the street they were on. It was practically deserted, though it was tucke
d between the main Night District clubs and Restaurant Row. Only a handful of drunken couples passed, giggling and swaying, stumbling on the cobblestones.

  “What was that about?” Eve asked.

  Genni pulled her so they continued towards Restaurant Row, but she was buzzing with excitement and had a spring in her step. “I can’t wait until Thursday now.”

  “I don’t understand,” Eve said, looking over her shoulder. “Who is Madame Allegria?”

  Genni stopped again, turning to her with shock. “Eve. Madame Allegria. The Madame.”

  Eve’s brow furrowed. “I don’t make it a point to know who runs which brothel, Genni. Am I supposed to know that name?”

  Genni shook her head, but she smirked. Pointing at the alley, Genni said, “That’s where they are.”

  Eve got frustrated, knowing Genni was just delaying the information for the drama of it.

  “Who?”

  “Madame Allegria is famous,” Genni said, ducking her head and whispering theatrically, “because she employs the Krave.”

  Eve’s breath hitched and she immediately swung her head back to the alley. Swallowing, she whispered, “She does?”

  Genni laughed and pulled Eve back into step. “I’ll get all the details from Mrs. Langley on Thursday, since heaven knows I couldn’t afford a session with a Krave.”

  Eve’s mind raced and she looked down to the cobblestone sidewalk. “Would you though? If you had enough credits? You would buy a night with one of them?”