Ursa Major (Cyborg Shifters Book 7) Read online

  Ursa Major

  Cyborg Shifters #7

  Naomi Lucas

  Contents

  Blurb

  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

  Epilogue

  Author’s Note

  To Wake a Dragon

  Also by Naomi Lucas

  Copyright © 2020 by Naomi Lucas

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form without permission in writing from the author.

  Any references to names, places, locales, and events are either a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, places, or events is purely coincidental.

  Cover Art by Cameron Kamenicky and Naomi Lucas

  Edited by Tiffany Freund and LY

  Created with Vellum

  To Justin, my husband, for convincing me that I needed a Cyborg Bear in my Shifter series. If it wasn’t for him, Cypher may have been a walrus, a snooty house cat, or worse, another bug!

  Terraform Zero, a virtual reality colonization game, has swept the galaxy by storm. The Champions are household names that give humanity hope. Vee Miles believes she is good enough to compete amongst them, but the costly entrance fee is holding her back.

  Enter the Earthian Planetary Exploration Division.

  Still reeling from a publicity nightmare named Zeph, the corporation is desperate to change the public’s opinions toward Cyborgs. They offer to sponsor Vee. The EPED gets the PR boost, and she gets to keep the prize money. The EPED’s deal comes with strings though, and she has to pretend to be a made-up Cyborg shifting bear named Cypher.

  A male that had the look of a Viking space warrior, with enough scars and otherworldly brawn to make any woman swoon. An imaginary male that makes her heart race…

  Little does she know she’s being used as bait to lure the real Cypher from his den.

  He’s out now.

  He’s coming for her, and there’s no place virtual or otherwise for her to hide.

  1

  Vee wiped her hands on her faded jeans and focused on the sleek black business suit worn by the man in front of her. It was the kind of suit that a woman like her didn’t normally see, and it clearly defined the gap in status between her and this man.

  Not so much a man. A Cyborg.

  The first Cyborg she’d ever laid eyes on in her life. She knew all about them—she’d been obsessing over their heroics since she could crawl. They filled the fantasies of men and women across the known universe, practically gods among them.

  The power, prestige, the fear and awe they generated were felt by every human being. Even their domineering beauty. And Cyborgs were beautiful, even in their I want to kill you, and rugged way. Danger had its allure.

  It must be easy, being born into status.

  But sitting in front of one now, all she knew was intimidation. That dangerous side they harbored really made itself apparent.

  Nightheart. He told her to call him Nightheart. What kind of name is Nightheart?

  Unlike Nightheart, Vee was a gutter rat city dweller. Nightheart’s suit alone cost enough to cover her rent for months, not counting the shoes, belt and other accessories.

  To be sitting across from a Cyborg, one who silently stared at her, judging her, seeing into her soul, was different than worshiping them from afar. Being in the same room put her firmly inside the blast radius if anything went wrong.

  He’s not going to choose me…

  She waited for him to speak, to do anything but stare at her in such an uncanny way that it made her skin crawl.

  Is there something wrong with me?

  Of course there’s a lot wrong with me.

  She didn’t look like the average young woman. At least not the type of woman to be in an office like this one, in front of a man like him. There were clean chrome walls and holographic screens everywhere, exaggerating his power and his wealth. Not to mention the vast view of New America City sprawling out from the floor-to-ceiling windows on three sides of them. The sight dizzied her.

  She had one window in her apartment, and it faced the dull metal wall of another skyscraper apartment building. Not only that, she was a woman, average or not. Very few women were given these opportunities… and if they were, it was because they had the backing of a big corporation or the government.

  No. Vee didn’t belong here. Not with her hair a vibrant dyed-red that shimmered in the light, her makeup to match, and the loose-fitting clothing that hung from her frame, vintage and bright. What corporation would back her? It was a one-in-a-million chance.

  She may have proven her talent, but the rest of her left much to be desired.

  Vee worked hard to keep the disappointment from her showing on her face. Perhaps I still have a chance to convince him?

  But as the minutes ticked by, she feared this may be the entire interview. Him staring at her.

  Him judging her.

  Him second-guessing why he happened to pick her application out of a sea of them.

  “I—”

  “You’ll do,” he finally said.

  She frowned. “I’ll… do?” Had she heard him correctly?

  “I said, you’ll do.”

  Excitement surged through her. I’ll do! She nearly jumped from her seat.

  But the Cyborg was already focused on something else, ignoring her, as if the long, awkward stare never happened. As if he had no idea what he had just done for her. That he hadn’t judged her solely based on being a solo player.

  Still, just because he said she’d do, didn’t mean she had the sponsorship yet. Vee sobered.

  Another holographic screen rose beside him, and her gaze snapped to it.

  My media site. And with it, her bio, her blog, and her videos appeared.

  “Vee Miles,” he said offhandedly. Coldly. Deliberately.

  Vee shivered at the sound of her name on his lips.

  “We reviewed your resume on our sponsorship program site. It appears you qualify for the Terraform Zero Championship, but you lack the funds to participate. Am I correct?”

  She straightened when the words sponsorship and championship came out of his mouth. “Yes,” she answered a little too quickly. “I’ve been training every day since I was six to compete at an interstellar level. I want to be on the front lines colonizing a new planet.”

  I want to give hope to the human race. She kept that part to herself.

  Nightheart waved his hand, cutting her off. “You have a seventy-eight percent average for planetary habitation success. That’s impressive.”

  He was impressed with her? Her toes wiggled. “Yes.”

  “You have competed in local tournaments since you were twelve, even winning many against veterans in the field.”

  She nodded.

  “Do you have a partner you work with?”

  “No. I work alone.” Most Terraform Zero players played with others. Not her. She never had
the friends to form an alliance nor had the means to buy her way into one. When she was younger, she desperately wanted to be a part of a team. But as the years went on, finding one became harder as she became more isolated, and she realized that she worked better alone.

  She learned so much more that way.

  Now she was known for being a soloer. Making all my opponents’ teams look bad. She liked that.

  Nightheart’s brow fell. “Hmm.”

  Please don’t let that be a problem.

  “We can give you three million credits to get you to the championship.”

  Her mind went blank at the offered amount.

  She barely had enough credits to cover her rent and food each month. Three million would not only get her to the championship, but it’d get her there in style. I could buy all new equipment and still live like a queen after the tournament!

  “And guarantee you a job if you win,” he continued, turning back to her with his unnerving eyes. Dull yellow eyes, to be exact. Yellow eyes that seemed more fitting for a monster or a demonic fiend. “The Earthian Planetary Exploration Division has partners—friends—in that field.”

  “I don’t know what to say except why? Why me?”

  He threaded his long fingers and placed them on the desk. “You’re young. You have a fairly large following, and there is nothing in your past that would hold you back or reflect badly on the EPED.”

  His lips twitched. She could’ve sworn she saw lines of numbers flick over his pupils, but he blinked, and they were gone before she could decide.

  “We’ve reviewed countless applications in the last few months, Vee Miles, and not one has looked as good as yours. One that has everything we want. Although—” the Cyborg cocked his head “—there are several others we are considering.”

  She bit down on her tongue, knowing his meaning. If I don’t accept and accept soon, I’ll lose this chance.

  “Are you still interested?” he asked.

  “I am. Where do I sign?”

  Nightheart’s lips twitched again. “That easily?” He lifted his hands from the desk. Big, pale hands. The kind that could wring her neck or break her spine before she blinked—or both.

  Why am I thinking this?

  He handed her a folder.

  She opened it to find two paper contracts and a pen. “I wouldn’t have applied if I wasn’t serious. I read the terms and conditions prior. I’ll read them again now.” Though, literally, she really had nothing to lose. No money, no prospects, not even real freedom. She couldn’t afford it.

  And those who worked for, or affiliated with a corporation like the EPED, were known for being taken care of. Perhaps…because it’s run by a Cyborg that’ll change. People flocked to work for a place like the EPED because it was at least something, a way to improve one’s life.

  “You don’t want a lawyer present?” he asked.

  “I can’t afford a lawyer.”

  “Ah. There is one caveat though, Vee Miles. One you must follow without exception that was not advertised on our site.”

  Vee glanced up from the contract. “A caveat?”

  She lowered the folder into her lap as he explained.

  That night, Vee lay on her bed while the day rushed through her mind. Hours had gone by, signing page after page. A digital copy was sent to her personal IP identification immediately after.

  Nightheart explained everything. That if she won the Terraform Zero Championship, she would get to keep the prize. That if she didn’t win or receive a high-profile job from the event, she would be given one at the EPED.

  They’re better than the military, she mused. Workers were hard to come by, and right now, one of the freedoms she did have was that she was able to work for herself… for the time being.

  Vee made sure to add a clause in the contract that if she placed second or third, even if she worked for the EPED afterward, she would be allowed to participate in next year’s championship if she qualified. Sponsorship or not.

  Details were hashed out.

  In one week, the three million credits would be in her account.

  She grabbed her pillow, pressed it to her face, and screamed with heart-thundering excitement. Every fiber, every muscle seized with disbelief. She screamed a little more until her neighbor banged on the wall and yelled at her to shut up.

  I may have signed away some of my freedom, but who wouldn’t in my circumstances?

  Rolling over, she gazed at her apartment’s ceiling and wiped happy tears from her eyes.

  She’d never had more than a couple hundred credits in her account at any given time. Not since she moved out of her parents’ apartment and into her own. The moment she’d turned eighteen and refused to go to college and get a higher education, her relationship with them became strained.

  ‘If you want to make it in this universe without a degree, then go and try. Prove us wrong.’

  Despite their differences, she still had a relationship with her parents and understood their reasoning.

  They never understood her love for the game, or that she was already pursuing her life’s goals through it. Or that she was working for a bigger dream: making the game into a reality.

  It was a way to get off of Earth and explore the wilds of the untamed universe. To be one of the first people on a new planet.

  Terraform Zero had everything, taught everything one needed to play it well. Playing the game as a child, she was learning methodology, statistics, advanced math, interpreting algorithms, vocabulary, history, meteorology, zoology, ethics, and the list goes on and on. There were levels of course, and courses offered within the game, starting beginners with a simple point-and-click game. But for those who really loved it, they could advance deep into the wholesale logistics of colonizing a new world. The game never went deeper than the player wanted.

  Though the game’s eighteenth edition came out five years ago, the game had been around for the past two hundred, perfected and re-perfected by the best scholars in the known universe. It was used as a simulation for potentially habitable planets, moons, and asteroids. Oftentimes, the location became a multi-year challenge for those who took the game seriously.

  This year, the Terraform Zero Championship was releasing a real, new, potential spot in the Andromeda Galaxy that could be colonized, and those who competed would be the only ones to get the planet to their game’s systems.

  Even if I don’t win, I need to be there.

  Vee snagged her wristcon, swiped her fingerprints, and logged on to the network. She brought up the contract and saw her signature at the bottom of each page.

  But the caveat…

  It was really strange.

  Nightheart came to mind. She shivered. The caveat was a bizarre one and hard to wrap her mind around, though it wasn’t unreasonable.

  She scrolled through the pages until the part where Cypher filled her hologram screen and stared at his picture.

  A lump formed in her throat. Vee swallowed thickly.

  ‘We want you to have a partner, and not just any partner, but one unique enough to draw the crowds.’

  ‘A partner? But I’m known for not having a partner...’

  ‘A Cyborg. One we produced, named Cypher.’

  Her mouth dropped open. ‘What?’

  ‘Consider it a marketing ploy, a way to represent my kind in a good light while you get to achieve your dreams. People see Cyborgs as nothing more than war heroes, cold machines. We need to show them that we’re more.’ He sighed. ‘Again.’

  And that explained why Nightheart and the EPED cared at all about her and the championship.

  Vee suspected she knew why he wanted positive PR.

  Cyborgs had come under attack after a rogue one—one who worked directly for the EPED—kidnapped a human woman and child from the planet Kepler. It was all over the interstellar news. Public opinion on the once-great heroes has since been at an all-time low, the lowest since their first emergence during the Great Galactic War.

&nbsp
; Terraform championships were watched by hundreds of millions, and not just hundreds of millions, but by Trentian aliens as well, scholars, politicians, and industry experts. People who had a voice, who could sway public opinion. A Cyborg player would look good for them.

  Now she was going to be thrust into the political mess by impersonating a made-up one. Confidentially of course.

  Three million credits. Three million credits, and my dreams.

  When she asked Nightheart what she was going to do during the championship—because she couldn’t be two people at once—he told her:

  ‘We’ll take care of it.’

  Ooookay. Were they going to create an android lookalike?

  Was that cheating? She had no idea, but there weren’t human and machine stipulations on who could compete, and androids have been on teams before. As long as the android wasn’t the team leader and not the decision-maker, it was okay.

  Only Trentians and half-breeds couldn’t compete.

  She inhaled and studied this Cypher some more.

  Could he look any more like a Viking? Vee rolled her eyes. Still, he was handsome—this made-up man—and that made her uncomfortable. At least he’s not real. They probably couldn’t pay a Cyborg enough to accompany me to the championship.

  Or play in the championship at all.

  Even with their current tenuous reputation, they were still fabled war heroes. Fantasies made flesh. Only a thousand or so existed throughout the universe. Not only were they otherworldly with superhero-like abilities, but they were also incredibly rare.