by Ivy Barrett
Moxtel was alone in the lab but glanced at the bottom of the holographic display to confirm that the transmission was secure before he explained. “My best guess is yes, the Ventori have found a way to convert human females, making them compatible with Ventori males. But it’s just a guess. Vikrin omitted all the crucial details.”
“You can’t fault Vikrin for protecting his leverage,” Ram responded. “We would have done the same.”
“It wasn’t a criticism. It just makes it damn hard for me to give you a definitive analysis. Vikrin claims the Ventori have successfully impregnated three of the humans. He even included the bio-scans of one, confirming the pregnancy and viability of the fetus.”
“That’s amazing news,” Ram pointed out. “Why do you still look so damn glum?”
Moxtel shook his head. He wanted to be excited, to believe it could happen for them. But he was a scientist. He needed empirical data, not hopes and dreams. “There are still so many variables. And even if the Ventori are successful, the code will need to be modified to accommodate Yashonty physiology. As you pointed out, Vikrin is promising us something that doesn’t exist.”
“Yet,” Ram added firmly.
They lapsed into silence as Ram considered his options. Ram could make decisions quickly and didn’t hesitate when faced with adversity, but he preferred to deliberate. It was one of the traits that made him such a good leader, in Moxtel’s estimation.
“If the decision were yours,” Ram finally broke the silence, “would you move forward with the alliance or find another solution?”
Moxtel scoffed under his breath. “There is no other solution, and we both know it. We all took vows to avenge our fallen. To accomplish that goal, we need the gatekeepers.”
“And they know it,” Ram grumbled.
“You have to agree to Vikrin’s terms and pray to all the forces of Destruction that the arrogant gatekeeper can deliver his end of the bargain. It’s our only hope of ending this war and rebuilding our lives.”
Ram pressed back into his padded armchair. There was only one comfortable chair on the ship, and it was in the tiny office adjacent to Ram’s cabin. Yashonty ships were designed to keep the crew strong and alert. Luxuries were counterproductive to that goal. Still, commanders were allowed the occasional indulgence.
“You’ve been fucking her off and on all day,” Ram said after another tense pause. “Why are you still so irritable?”
“I don’t just want to fuck her.” Moxtel scowled though his anger was directed inward not at Ram. “I want to claim her. I’m obsessed, and I don’t like it.”
Ram’s brows arched and his lips curved into a lazy smile. “I wondered if it would happen to us.”
“If what would happen to us?” This was not the reaction Moxtel had expected from his best friend.
“Even without the genetic conversion, some of the human females are sending the Ventori into rut. It has something to do with a different kind of blood.”
“You think Lorna is Rh-negative.”
Ram’s nod released a meteor shower of speculation in Moxtel’s mind.
“One of our contacts sent me a report about the discovery.” Human females with Rh-negative blood were far more likely to produce viable offspring with Ventori males than females with rhesus or the D antigen. The protein was highly toxic to the hybrid fetus, preventing the pregnancy from progressing to term. Ventori mating instincts detected and responded to females most likely to produce robust offspring, so rut only engaged with Rh-negative humans. The possibility that the same held true for the Yashonty explained a lot. If Moxtel hadn’t been so lust-crazed, he would have considered the possibility himself.
“Belton is also affected by her, and you two have similar genetics,” Ram pointed out.
“Yet you didn’t find her any more appealing than any other body-slave,” Moxtel mused. It was another indication that Ram’s hypothesis was correct. According to the report, the level of compatibility differed from male to male, but blood relatives often reacted strongly to the same female.
“How detailed was the report you read?” Ram wanted to know.
“Not very. The Ventori guard their secrets well. It just said that this natural compatibility is what evolved into the transformation protocols, and the process still works best with Rh-negative females.”
Ram nodded, his expression thoughtful. “What percentage of human females have the needed blood type?”
“About twenty percent.” Moxtel shifted on his backless seat. He’d never been one to foster false hope. If they pursued this concept, it put them in direct competition with the Ventori, and they were much farther along in the process. “It still seems improbable. I’ve never heard of another species triggering bonding fever in Yashonty males.”
“Neither had the Ventori.” Ram pushed back from his workstation so he could cross his legs. “Do you have another explanation for your reaction to Lorna? I’ve never seen you this desperate for a female.”
Ram was right. Moxtel just wasn’t ready to admit it.
“Besides,” Ram continued. “Lorna isn’t the only body-slave that has caused obsessive behavior in her masters. I’m not a geneticist, but I think it’s time to do some testing.”
Moxtel nodded. He wasn’t a geneticist either. His knowledge base was more generalized. Still, he could do some preliminary tests and determine if in-depth research was warranted. “I’ll run a basic bio-scan and ask Noj to order additional tests.” The prime medical officer would know better than Moxtel which tests would be most informative.
“And I’ll tell Vikrin to lock in the other gatekeepers. If we’re reacting the same way to humans as the Ventori, it seems more likely that their transformation process will work for us as well.”
“Or,” Moxtel stressed, “it could make it possible for us to find human life-bringers without any further assistance from anyone.”
“I have no problem with either outcome. I just want to move forward. We’ve debated our options long enough.” After a short pause, Ram pivoted to another subject. “Did you contact your uncle? If Brianne is a potential life-bringer, we must get her back. In fact, if Lorna is a life-bringer, she must be given the choice of protectors. It’s the law.”
Protective anger surged through Moxtel, clenching his fists and puffing out his chest. “Lorna is mine,” he said emphatically. “Mine and Belton’s. We will not allow—”
“I understand what’s at stake, but I can’t change the law. Life-bringers have the right to choose.”
Battling an irrational rush of panic, Moxtel said, “Lorna is not Yashonty. Do our laws pertain to her?”
Ram paused, stroking his chin as he considered the question. “I’m not sure. This has never been an issue before.”
“It’s too soon.” The pleading quality in Moxtel’s voice made him cringe. “We need more time with her.”
“I’d give it to you if I could, but there is more at stake than our personal happiness.” Ram leaned closer to the transmitter and dropped his voice. “If she were mine, I’d keep her in bed, drunk on pleasure and cum until she wanted no one but me, or me and my cabin mate.”
Moxtel acknowledged the comment with a distracted nod, but his mind rushed on ahead. Ram made it sound so simple, but he had no idea how hard it was to convince Lorna to do anything. Soul bonds could not be forced. The bond must be entered into willingly and without hesitation or the link was compromised, even harmful. It could take months, even years to earn Lorna’s trust, much less have her consider a permanent relationship with two alien males.
“Freeing her sister could go a long way toward winning over your reluctant mate,” Ram suggested with a sly smile. “I know King Eltor can be disagreeable, but it’s worth the risk. With one comm, he can verify that Xarr has Brianne and find out when she’ll be auctioned.”
Or Eltor could find out where she was being held so she could be rescued. It was doubtful Ram would support such a rash plan, so Moxtel kept the thought to himself. “I’
ll contact him.”
Ram nodded then pushed to his feet. “I’ll see you in the morning. Let me know what the bio-scan reveals.”
Moxtel crossed the lab and dispensed a drink from the beverage station before he attempted to contact his uncle. Eltor’s moods were unpredictable at best. Moxtel was never sure how he would react to the simplest request, which was one of the reasons their conversations were infrequent.
Rylar had been colonized by the Yashonty many centuries ago. The colonists now considered themselves Rylarian rather than Yashonty, but they were genetically similar. The most striking difference between the two races was that Rylarians no longer developed the calcified corona encircling the back of Yashonty heads. Rylarian skin tended to be charcoal gray rather than bluish-black, and their eyes had taken on a variety of colors rather than remaining within the purple spectrum.
Despite King Eltor’s bad reputation, he had been the first to welcome Yashonty refugees. Were it not for his support and generosity following the Skarilian attacks, the plight of the survivors would have been far worse. Even knowing that Eltor could be magnanimous, Moxtel dreaded the coming holo-comm. Nothing his uncle did came without strings attached, especially when the Lark family was involved.
Many Yashonty considered all Rylarians inferior. According to Moxtel’s parents, Rylar had been populated with criminals and castoffs, so their descendants were amoral and intellectually deficient. That hadn’t kept Moxtel’s grandparents from bartering their youngest daughter to Rylar’s king, of course. It just gave them a reason to snub Eltor when Carrella died. Eltor had not anticipated such blatant disrespect from those he considered family. And the slight had not been forgotten.
Moxtel drained his glass then reluctantly returned to his workstation. There was no help for it. He needed Eltor’s help, and he’d do whatever it took to get it. Using Eltor’s private comm-code, Moxtel requested a secure holo-conference, then waited for the king to respond. If ‘His Imperial Majesty’ was feeling indulgent, he responded quickly. If his mood was dark, he often ignored the request or had one of his underlings respond.
It took a few moments, but Eltor responded personally. He sprawled in an elaborately carved chair wearing only loose lounging pants. His silver-blue hair fell to his shoulders in messy waves, and the satisfied look in his iridescent eyes told Moxtel that his uncle had just tumbled out of bed. It was early afternoon on Rylar. Eltor had likely been up late the night before.
“Thank you for taking my comm,” Moxtel said, avoiding Eltor’s many titles. Addressing him by name could anger the unpredictable king, yet bowing and scraping would seem suspicious. They generally kept things casual.
“If you’d commed twenty minutes ago, I would have let you watch the show. Last night’s entertainment was two Lenarian sisters and an extremely agile Ventori.” He stretched and flashed a smug half-smile. “When are you going to accept my invitation? It’s been ages since you visited court.”
“I look forward to enjoying all the pleasures your court offers—as soon as I’ve fulfilled my sacred vow.”
Eltor made a face and waved away the stipulation. “Few Rylarians still worship the old gods or adhere to the sacred vows. I, for one, find your quest disturbing. How can mass slaughter excuse mass slaughter? Doesn’t that make you just as bad as the Skarilians?”
Moxtel took a deep breath before he replied. Eltor loved to goad him, to insult and belittle those things he found sacred. “You didn’t see their faces or hear their screams.”
“True.” As suddenly as the provocation began, it ended. Eltor sat up straight and narrowed his eyes. “What do you need from me this time? Are you running low on anterite already? I thought the last shipment I donated was rather generous.”
Rylar contained the largest deposits of anterite anywhere in the known galaxies. The crystalline substance was vital to the production of Yashonty technology. Mining and refining anterite had made the Rylarian people extremely wealthy, much to the dismay of the Yashonty.
“You are always extremely generous.” Moxtel insisted. “This is about information. You can easily acquire what I need to know while it would be virtually impossible for me.”
The statement seemed to relax him. “What do you need to know?”
“One of our hunters sold a human female to Exotic Pets. I need to get her back. You’re one of Xarr Illenton’s best customers. If you tell him you’re interested in acquiring a human female, he’ll—”
“Why was she sold to Xarr? I thought you were using human females to stabilize morale among your fighters.”
Moxtel tensed. He needed Eltor to find out about Brianne without becoming interested in her himself. “It’s a necessary evil. War is expensive.”
Eltor’s silvery brows arched at the evasion. “I’m aware of the practice. Why was this particular female sold? Is she unique in some way? Especially beautiful?” He suddenly leaned forward, desire gleaming in his multi-colored gaze. “Is she a virgin?”
Godsdamn it, this was the exact conversation he was hoping to avoid. “Belton finally claimed a body-slave. The female I’m hoping to recover is our slave’s sister.”
“If you want my assistance, answer my question.” His expression hardened as his tone filled with expectancy.
“She is both beautiful and untouched.” Before Eltor could react to the revelation, Moxtel rushed on, “Will you please comm Xarr and find out where she is being held. It is vitally important that I get her back before she is auctioned.”
“Vitally important to your body-slave?” He made a sound part chuckle, part scoff. “I’d heard human females have made the Ventori irrational. I didn’t realize the Yashonty are susceptible to this allure as well.” Moxtel just stared at him, so Eltor asked, “How long has Xarr had her?”
“Little over a week. If she is half as spirited as her sister, it will take her trainers several months to make her auctionable. Most potential pet owners won’t bid on a feral female.”
Eltor nodded, then paused his gaze boring into Moxtel’s. “Do you have any idea how much this will cost me? How do you plan to repay such a debt?”
His uncle knew damn good and well that Moxtel would never possess that sort of wealth, so Eltor obviously had something else in mind. “What do you want—that I can offer or gain access to?”
Stroking his chin thoughtfully, Eltor pondered the question. “Even exchange. You asked one thing of me, and I will ask one thing of you.”
Meaning Moxtel must agree to the exchange, not knowing what that ‘one thing’ would be. “I will not murder anyone. Other than that, it is yours.”
Accepting the decision with another nod, Eltor said, “Then I’ll request a private showing and purchase her on site. It will probably triple her price, but I’m intrigued.” A predatory light gleamed in his iridescent eyes. “Once I’ve relieved her of her virginity, I’ll return her to you and your overindulged body-slave.”
Moxtel scrambled for some way to talk Eltor out of the stipulation. They weren’t blood relatives or even close friends, more like long-term acquaintances. No matter how Moxtel looked at it, Eltor was doing him a massive favor. If Moxtel pushed his luck, Eltor would simply end the conversation and contact Xarr anyway. “I would have thought you were tired of virgins by now.”
“My reputation is greatly exaggerated, and you know it.” Eltor finger-combed his long silver-blue hair away from his face, clearly annoyed by Moxtel’s comment. “I enjoy variety, but I seldom bother with trembling virgins. They are not nearly as enjoyable as one would think.”
“Then, why bother with Brianne?”
“Brianne?” He gazed off into the distance, his eyes shifting from purple to blue to pink and finally a combination of all three. “I’ve never fucked a human before. It’s as simple as that. The only cure for boredom is the unique. That’s why I keep returning to Exotic Pets.” He looked at Moxtel as his expression hardened again. “I won’t harm her. You know I do not abuse my slaves.”
Moxtel heaved a fru
strated sigh. “There is no way I can talk you into simply providing the information so I can rescue her?”
“Exotic Pet compounds have the best security I’ve ever seen. You wouldn’t make it past the lobby.” Eltor pushed to his feet. “This will cost me far more than I generally spend on any pet. I should get something out of the deal.”
“You’re getting my favor in return,” Moxtel reminded. How the fuck would he explain this to Lorna?
“The favor repays me for the credits. The girl repays me for my time.”
Moxtel had no idea how to argue with that. From Eltor’s perspective, it made perfect sense. Brianne’s fate had been sealed when she was sold to Exotic Pets. Her virginity would go to the highest bidder, so it might as well be the king of Rylar.
Wasn’t Brianne’s life more important than her virginity?
“I’ll contact you once the appointment is set. It could take a few days. And don’t worry, nephew.” Eltor grinned, his eyes shimmering. “It’s a great honor for any female to lose her virginity to a king.”
Moxtel shook his head, feeling defeated. It was highly unlikely that Lorna would agree.
* * *
Lorna stood in the center of the tiny bathroom waiting for the cleansing pulse to finish and the soothing waves to begin. Belton had introduced her to this wonder last night after Moxtel stormed out of the bedroom. She’d been too upset to sleep, so Belton suggested she soothe herself in the shower. She hadn’t known what he meant, but boy was she glad she found out. The soothing pulses were warm and relaxing, easing all the aches and tenderness left behind by her ravenous masters and their creative forms of discipline. It was the only thing that had enabled her to keep up with them in the hours that followed. Their sexual demands had been almost nonstop. As one relaxed, momentarily satisfied, the other became aroused. And she was just as bad. Her hunger for pleasure and pain had become insatiable. She’d always had a strong sex drive, but this was different. Belton and Moxtel made her feel wild, almost feral.
Stepping out of the bathroom with a tentative smile, Lorna looked around for Belton. He’d been sprawled across his bed naked and sleepy when she went to use the shower. “Belton?”
