by Tana Stone
Dakar moved them down the corridor. “Not enough available females. I was used to the pleasure planets, but here all the tribute brides are spoken for. Of course, I ended up with a mate from the independent side of the station, but that’s pretty frowned upon.”
“Independent?” That rang a bell of familiarity in Vox’s memory. “Shreya said she was an independent.”
Dakar nodded as they walked. “She’s friends with my mate. They both rejected the whole tribute bride concept and went to live on the other side of the station. There aren’t many of them, but there are more than the Drexian High Command would like to admit.”
“So Shreya does not want a Drexian mate?” Vox asked, not knowing why this answer felt so important to him.
“I can’t speak for her, but she didn’t go for the idea when she was first taken from Earth and brought here. Of course, my mate didn’t, either. She was the most fiercely independent one of them all.” Dakar grinned. “Until she met me.”
“So they can change their minds?”
Dakar eyed him. “Keeping human females happy is the entire purpose for the Boat, so they have more power than they think. Why do you ask? Did you and Shreya…?”
“No.” Vox shook his head. “I mean, I don’t think so. She claims I have nothing to apologize for. But I don’t have any memories of her, so I can’t be sure.”
Dakar let out a low whistle. “You don’t remember a thing about that entire time on Lymora III? Now even fighting off the Xakden?”
“I fought off Xakden?” Vox strained to pull up a memory of that, but there was nothing.
“According to Shreya and her little friend, you killed two of the grekking aliens, and saved the females from a pretty nasty fate.”
The idea of Shreya being in danger from two Xakden made something stir inside Vox. It must have been his natural Drexian instinct to defend and protect, he thought, as his heart beat faster.
“And nothing from the pleasure house?” Dakar waggled his eyebrows at him. “I’ve never been myself, but I hear the Valoushe’s place is something of a palace, with just about any female alien you could desire.”
Vox shrugged. “I only know what our room looked like. At least, from the replica Shreya created on the holodeck for me.”
Dakar stopped short, and a pair of Drexian warriors nearly ran into them. “She recreated the room where you held her captive?”
Vox’s face warmed. “I think she was trying to help bring back my memories, but it didn’t work. I have no memories of being in a place like that.”
“Why would she care so much about you remembering?”
Vox shrugged. “I do not know. I suppose she is trying to help, since she was so involved in saving my life.”
Dakar nodded, but didn’t look convinced as he resumed walking. “In my experience, females do not do things without a good reason.”
Vox recognized the doors in front of them. They led to the officers’ quarters, where his room was located. He glanced over at Dakar, as the warrior swiped a hand to open the doors. “Do you live here, as well? I thought you took a mate? Don’t all the mated Drexians lived in the holographic suites?”
Dakar gave him a crooked grin. “I told you my mate was fiercely independent. She didn’t want to live with the other tribute brides, so we opted to stay in my suite on the officer’s deck. It caused less uproar than me moving into the independent wing would have.”
Vox followed the warrior down the narrower corridor, stopping when he recognized his door. “This is me.”
Dakar jerked a thumb at the door across the hall. “And that’s me. Well, Ella and me.” He thumped Vox on the back. “Feel free to come over anytime if you need something.”
“Thank you.” Vox gave him a small bow before passing his hand over the panel beside the door and watching Dakar do the same behind him. He heard a female’s voice inside Dakar’s quarters, before the door slid shut behind him and blocked out the sound.
Stepping into his own suite, Vox was overwhelmed by the silence. Not only the silence of the empty room, but the silence in his own head. He had scant few memories of the implant that had been in his head, but he felt the loss of the voices he knew had been projected into him. Even though the idea of Kronock voices in his head horrified him, he couldn’t stop the feeling of loneliness that now engulfed him.
Vox crossed the dimly lit room to the window that stretched across one long wall. The view of space was spectacular, but the vast blackness dotted with stars made him feel even more alone. He pressed one palm against the cool glass, noticing that the skin on his arms was smooth and bronze. Patches of scales no longer marred the surface.
His gaze drifted to his reflection in the glass. The only evidence that remained at all was the curve of metal around one temple. Once that was removed, there would be no way to tell he’d ever been part Kronock, or part cyborg. He would know, of course. He’d always carry the guilt of not knowing what he’d done when he was under the enemy’s influence.
He slammed his hand on the glass. Why couldn’t he remember? Had the implant really taken all his memories with him, or was he suppressing them, because they were so horrific his psyche couldn’t handle it?
Grek. He was a Drexian warrior. He’d been trained to handle extreme duress. It was how he’d survived the torture he occasionally recalled, his mind bringing up his own screams and then pushing them away again.
Vox crossed to the large bed, sinking onto the ebony duvet. He flopped back, letting himself sink into the softness and closing his eyes.
Think, he ordered his mind. What happened on Lymora III?
He pictured the room Shreya had created on the holodeck, flinching at its gaudiness and obvious purpose. He’d visited pleasure planets before, of course. All Drexians had. But he’d never seen a room like that one. His face warmed as he thought of the giant X with the straps at the corners.
He pressed his eyes together as he concentrated, trying to bring up images of himself in that room. After a moment, he let out an exasperated breath and relaxed. Nothing.
Maybe Shreya had been telling the truth and there was nothing to tell, although the knot in his stomach disagreed with him. As he lay sprawled out on the bed, he heard a pinging from the door. He opened one eye. There it was again.
Standing, Vox crossed to the door and swiped a hand to open it. His gaze dropped to the tiny alien with a tower of pink hair, and shimmering skin that held a faint blue hue. She’d changed into a ridiculously ornate dress, with piles of ruffles belling out from her waist.
“I thought you might be hungry,” she said, pushing a levitating cart into the room.
He blinked a few times, not sure if he was imagining things.
The alien beamed up at him as she removed domes from plates of food. “These are a few of the things you enjoyed on Lymora III. I thought you might enjoy them here.”
Vox was about to protest that he wasn’t hungry and didn’t want Lymoran food, when he inhaled the scent of sugar. Although Drexians didn’t consume many sweet foods, he recognized the aroma and it made him salivate.
“You should try the cream,” the Perogling said, pointing to a plate piled high with something fluffy and white as she backed out of the room. “It’s something Shreya concocted for you.”
Before he could ask why Shreya would have created a dish for him, the alien was gone.
Vox shook his head as he approached the food. There was nothing he recognized, although the sweet scent did feel familiar. He inhaled deeply and closed his eyes, feeling warmth spread throughout his body. Opening his eyes again, he leaned closer to the plate of fluff the alien had called cream. He’d never heard of cream before, and couldn’t imagine why the human would have made it for him.
He touched the top of it, startled by how airy and cool it was. The feel of it on his fingertip sent tingles down his arm.
Vox brought his finger to his lips and sampled the odd substance. It was the sweetest thing he’d ever tasted, but that wasn�
��t what made him almost lightheaded. He closed his eyes again and took another scoop of cream, sucking it off his fingers slowly and remembering the taste of Shreya’s fingers in his mouth.
He’d been sitting on the edge of the bed and she had been feeding the sweet, fluffy cream to him. As he swallowed, he could almost feel her skin between his lips, the bumpy flesh beneath his tongue. The pebbled skin of her nipples, not her fingers, he realized, his knees nearly buckling.
He scooped more cream into his mouth, the taste bringing up visions of Shreya in a diaphanous white dress that he slowly untied, revealing the perfect mounds of her breasts. He could hear her breathy moans as he sucked her, her skin sweeter than any cream he could imagine.
Blood rushed south, and his cock throbbed. How had he not remembered until now? He heaved in deep breaths as all the memories flooded his brain—watching Shreya shower, dressing her as she was tied to the crossed beams, licking cream off her breast, and taking her up against the wall of the ship, her eyes dark as she told him she was his.
His head pounded as he staggered toward the door. He needed to find her. He didn’t know what he would say, but he knew one thing for sure. She was his.
Chapter Thirty
Shreya lay facedown on her bed. She’d cried herself out, and now felt weary from her grief. As unbelievable as it seemed, he didn’t remember her or anything that had happened between them, and she needed to accept it and move on.
Easier said than done.
She pushed herself up and swung her feet over the side of the bed. She wanted to curl up in a ball until she didn’t feel an ache in her heart every time she thought about Vox, but that wouldn’t do anyone any good. Neither would drinking herself into oblivion.
Yanking a hand through her hair, she squared her shoulders. Work had always gotten her through hard times before. When she’d lost her family, she’d thrown herself into her studies. It hadn’t made everything better, but it had made it easy not to think about how much it hurt.
That was what she needed now, she reminded herself. To dull the pain of loss. Focusing on the research she’d been doing before the mission to rescue Vox would provide exactly the distraction she needed to forget about him.
Shreya stood, appraising herself quickly in her dresser mirror and wiping the tears off her face. Running her fingers through her hair to smooth it, she looked around for her messenger bag, scooping it off the floor next to her dresser and heading for the door. She hadn’t been back to the lab since she’d returned to the station, and she hoped her station hadn’t been poached by other scientists.
She strode out of her suite and down the corridor, passing the independent coffee shop and waving at the silver-haired alien lazily wiping the bar. She could tell it was late at night by the low lighting and by the fact that almost no women occupied the high-top tables or overstuffed couch.
Good, she thought. I’ll have the lab to myself. Unless some of the night owl alien scientists were there.
Passing through the sliding double doors that divided the independent section from the rest of the station, Shreya walked briskly down the corridors. The piped-in music was barely audible—another clue it was late—and few aliens were out and about.
She stepped onto an empty inclinator, grateful not to run into anyone she knew, or anyone she needed to make a point of ignoring, like the ever-flirty Neebix. At this point, she wasn’t sure she trusted herself not to fall victim to their good looks and swishing tails.
When she reached the lab, she let out a deep breath. The long, high tables were almost completely empty. Only one purple-skinned alien sat on a hover stool, his webbed feet swinging beneath him as he peered into a microscope.
Shreya wound her way to the back of the lab and found her station. Breathing a sigh of relief when she realized nothing had been touched, she set down her bag and hopped onto her stool. Even her notes were exactly where she’d left them, and she scanned the top page to bring herself up to speed, flinching slightly when she read the notes outlining her hypothesis about Vox’s DNA.
Pushing thoughts of the well-muscled Drexian out of her mind, she started writing down the results of administering her injections when Vox had been in transit to the Boat. As she’d hoped, the Drexian DNA had begun to overwrite the Kronock DNA, and had countered the negative effects of the DNA collapse.
Tapping her pen on the counter, she wondered if she could get the medical records of his surgery to add to her notes. For a moment she thought about submitting her research to a scientific journal until she remembered she was on an alien space station, and there were no scientific journals.
She laughed quietly to herself. She could fill an entire scientific journal just with descriptions of the Boat. Forget about her research. People on Earth would freak out at the thought of a holographic space station filled with alien creatures, where tables and carts hovered, and elevators went from side to side and diagonally, as well as up and down.
Dropping her pen on top of her notes, she leaned back. What next? She’d solved the issue with Vox’s DNA. Now, she needed another project to keep her busy, and keep her mind off the hot Drexian she’d fallen for. She groaned with exasperation. Coming to the lab hadn’t distracted her from thinking about Vox. Looking at her old notes about him had made her think about him even more.
Closing her eyes, she tried not to think about him, but images kept flashing in her mind—her hands running down the hard muscles of his chest, his tongue on her skin, his cock inside her.
Shreya shook her head. “You have to forget about him,” she muttered.
“I hope you aren’t talking about me.”
Her eyes flew open, and she nearly slipped off the hovering stool. Vox stood only feet away from her, his face flushed and his eyes intense.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, grabbing the edge of the counter for balance.
“I’ve been looking for you all over the station.” His breathing was ragged, and she wondered if he’d run all over the Boat. “The alien in the independent section finally told me you’d left with your work bag. Dakar told me where you went when you worked. Now here I am.”
“I can see that.” Shreya didn’t know what else to say. When she’d left him only a couple of hours earlier, he’d had no memory of her. If he’d come to give her another polite apology or thank you, she didn’t know if she could bear it. She took a deep breath. “If you’ve come to thank me again, don’t. I was only doing what anyone would have done.”
“I haven’t come to thank you.” He stepped closer to her, and his green eyes flashed dark.
She wondered if he was okay, since he looked a bit feverish. And, if she was being honest, a little possessed. “Are you having some side effects from the surgery? I’m not a doctor, but I could call one for you.”
“No.” He took another step toward her. “I do not need a doctor, Shreya.”
The way he said her name made a shiver run down her spine. Her pulse quickened, and her mouth went dry. She stared up at him, as he closed the remaining distance between them. “What do you need, Vox?”
He leaned down so that his mouth brushed her ear. “I need you to tell me that you’re mine.”
Her entire body jerked, and she sucked in air. He grabbed her by the ass and lifted her off the stool, wrapping her legs around his waist.
Tears burned her eyelids, and she buried her head in his neck to keep from sobbing. “You remembered,” she finally managed to whisper.
He nodded. “I remember everything. I’m so sorry it took me so long.”
She leaned back, taking his face in her hands. “It doesn’t matter. As long as you remember how mad I am for you.”
He tilted his head at her. “Is being mad for me a good thing?”
She laughed. “A very good thing.”
“Then I am very mad about you, as well,” he said, before setting her down on the counter and crushing his mouth to hers.
Chapter Thirty-One
Vox heard littl
e but the rush of blood thrumming in his ears as he kissed her, his tongue insistent as it tangled with hers. His memories of being with Shreya had come back in a rush, and now he felt that avalanche of sensation and emotion threaten to engulf him.
Pulling her into him, he leaned forward so his cock bumped up against her. She let out a small gasp, her hands clutching his back and rubbing up against his nodes. The jolt of pleasure that shot through him was enough to make his knees buckle.
How could he have forgotten this for even a second? She felt so right in his arms—the taste of her so intoxicating he could barely think straight. As need pounded through him, one thought dominated his mind. She was his. Only his. Always.
“Vox,” the sound of her voice as she pulled away from him was soft and breathy.
He moved his hungry mouth down her neck, nipping her skin as he went and savoring the warm softness. “Mmhmm?”
She laughed and the vibration of her throat tickled his lips. “Vox. We should probably find a more appropriate place.”
He lifted his head to meet her eyes, and saw her looking beyond him. Twisting around, he spotted a small, green alien on a hovering stool gaping at them through a pair of thick goggles.
“If we aren’t careful, we might end up being studied,” Shreya whispered.
“Can’t have that.” Vox lifted her ass off the table, her legs still wrapped around his waist, and started walking out of the lab.
“What are you doing?” she asked, her face warm as they passed the alien staring up at them with wide, magnified eyes.
“Taking you someplace more appropriate.”
“Like this?”
“Why not?” Vox asked. “I can walk faster than you, and I find it enjoyable to feel you pressed up against me.”
“I can tell.” His hard cock bumping up against her left her in little doubt of just how enjoyable he found the position.
Luckily, the corridors were relatively empty and set to nighttime illumination, although they were still bright enough for the aliens and Drexian warriors who passed them to do a double-take.
