by Ivy Barrett
Belton had opened up to her immediately, sharing events in his past both painful and heartwarming, and answering her endless questions. She felt like she’d known him for years and could talk to him about anything.
Moxtel shut her out emotionally, but his actions spoke of a much deeper connection than he was willing to admit. He’d ensured her protection and arranged Tarn’s visits. He’d immediately used his influence to minimize Brianne’s trauma, and arranged for her return. Those were not the actions of a male who didn’t care.
They had sexual chemistry in abundance, and being with them made her feel content and secure, emotions she’d longed for her entire adult life. It surprised her to realize she had no desire to leave, but there was a more immediate question. “Brianne will want to go back to Earth. Will Ram allow it?”
Invisible shutters slammed close over Moxtel’s eyes, concealing any hint of emotion. “I don’t know. I’ll do my best to convince him that she’s been through enough, but Ram can be difficult.”
She appreciated his honesty, but this sure as hell wasn’t making her feel any better about the outcome. “If he refuses, will she be claimed by an officer or put into the lottery?”
“An officer will claim her,” Belton predicted with obvious reluctance. She could always count on Belton for the harshest truth. “Maybe Ram himself.”
Shoving against Moxtel’s chest, she turned and stepped back so she could see both males. “Don’t make it sound like that’s a good thing. Ram is the bastard responsible for all of this.”
“He’s also the bastard that could change it,” Moxtel pointed out. “Ram is our ultimate authority. With one order, he can set all the body-slaves free. You helped me see that human females are much more than warm bodies. Maybe Brianne could do the same with Ram.”
Lorna shook her head, yet carefully distanced herself from her emotions. She had to assess the situation with calm deliberation. If she allowed herself to think about what Brianne was going through right now, she was sure to lose it completely. “Brie isn’t a crusader. We have to get her off this ship. Preferably before Ram finds out she’s back.” Moxtel looked at Belton, and another long pause told her they were telling secrets again. “Out loud, please.”
Moxtel glanced at her, then continued the conversation verbally. “If anyone knows where they are, it’s Hentrex. I already put a comm request in to him, but he hasn’t responded yet.”
“Who is Hentrex?” she asked.
“The captain of Eltor’s private guard,” Moxtel told her. “He’s mated to one of my aunt’s attendants, so I know him really well.” He reached for her, but she backed away, not yet ready to be touched.
“I thought the Yashonty could only breed with other Yashonty? How does Ray... what’s the planet called?”
“Rylar,” Belton provided. His expression was tense, his gaze smoldering. “The people are Rylarians.”
She better get to the point quickly; her males were growing restless and annoyed. “How are all these Rylarian males mating with Yashonty females?”
“Rylar was colonized by Yashontara many centuries ago,” Belton said as his gaze drifted toward her breasts. He must have realized what he was doing because he snapped his gaze back to her face.
“It’s been almost two millennia by now, but we’re still genetically compatible,” Moxtel corrected, then returned to the actual topic. “If Hentrex will help us—and after I fill him in on the entire situation, there’s a pretty good chance he will—we can intercept the shuttle bringing her here and take her to Earth instead.”
Lorna just stared up at him, barely able to believe what he was suggesting. “Ram would be furious,” she whispered, fighting back tears. He’d already indebted himself to a king for her? Why would he risk even more? “Wouldn’t that put your life in danger?”
He pushed his fingers through his hair, then reached for her hand again. She allowed it this time. “No Yashonty male would kill another over a body-slave.”
The statement would have made Lorna furious if it weren’t for the shame so apparent in his expression. Slavery might not have bothered him before, but it bothered the hell out of him now. She allowed him to entwine their fingers as she moved a little closer. “What’s the worst that can happen?”
Moxtel shrugged, but she didn’t believe the nonchalance. His thumb stroked her hand while heat gradually built in his eyes. “He’ll likely demote me. Make me join a maintenance crew until he needs me for something important.”
“Moxtel is the most skilled magister in all of Yashontara. That’s why Ram picked him in the first place.” Belton took her other hand. “I’m the one you should be worrying about. My position is much easier to replace.”
“Which is why you’ll have nothing to do with this,” Moxtel insisted. “You’ll stay here pleasuring our new mate, while I zip off to rescue her sister.”
“No fucking way you’re doing this by yourself,” Belton let go of her hand and shoved Moxtel in the shoulder, dislodging his hand from hers in the process. “Another visit from Tarn can provide Lorna with an alibi, but I am coming with you.”
“We’ll all go,” Lorna said firmly.
“No!” both males snapped.
“Despite the way we met, I’m not a helpless body-slave. I was trained by the FBI.” She shifted her gaze from one to the other. “You have access to Earth’s internet, so I presume you know what that means.”
Belton smirked at Moxtel. “It means she’s more qualified for a rescue mission than a magister.”
Moxtel did not look pleased, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he looked at Lorna, his expression unreadable. “Even if Hentrex won’t help us, we should be able to intercept her shuttle. Rylarian shuttles generally hold four occupants, so the risk is minimized. Now, no more talk of Brianne tonight. Answer my original question.” A bit of the autocratic edge crept back into his tone. “Will you agree to give us children if we confirm that it’s possible?”
Standing there in the middle of the room felt combative, yet she wasn’t ready for the bedroom. She glanced at the bench, then realized it was the subject, not the staging that was making her uncomfortable. She wanted specifics from them. It was only fair to explain her expectations just as clearly. “For me to even consider bringing a baby into this world, my sisters will need to be safe, and we will have to do everything in our power to free all the females enslaved by the Yashonty. I’d love it if the Skarilians were no longer an issue, but that might not be realistic. Life is never without risk, and I can’t remember a time when war wasn’t raging somewhere.” They seemed satisfied with her conclusions, so she delved a little deeper. “Even if we can accomplish all that, the logistics are still complicated. Obviously, we can’t raise a child on this ship. I don’t really want to return to Earth, so how would our life work long-term?”
“If and when these ships prepare for battle, all the females will be taken somewhere safe,” Belton told her.
“Likely to Rylar,” Moxtel interjected. “That’s where the majority of our refugees went.”
“Your uncle’s planet.” The implication was a little daunting. “We would make our home on a planet ruled by your relatives.”
Moxtel chuckled. “Most consider that an advantage. You make it sound dreadful.”
She crossed her arms and tried not to scowl, but Brianne’s current situation still bothered the hell out of her. “It will be hard for me to be civil to someone who paid money for my sister’s virginity.”
“Rylar is twice the size of Earth. If being near King Eltor is objectionable, we’ll choose a city far from the capital.” Moxtel pulled her in front of him, hands returning to her shoulders. “Once the war is over, our life can be whatever we want it to be.”
“Even before that.” Belton resumed his pose behind her, hands on her hips. “We have more freedom than most because of Moxtel’s position and his friendship with Ram.”
But Moxtel’s friendship with Ram would be tested when they intercepted Brianne without
his consent. Lorna didn’t bring up the complication. All of these arguments were circular. The best they could do was to make sure they were heading in the same direction and kept pulling together. As Brianne’s current situation proved, there was only so much they could control.
“What is your position exactly,” she asked Moxtel. “What does a magister do?”
“I provide insights to which others have no access and offer advice to those in authority.”
Yeah, that cleared it up. She smiled. “Are you psychic?”
“To some extent,” he admitted. “My primary abilities are empathy and discernment.”
“He instinctively knows whether a situation will succeed or fail, and when someone is being false,” Belton explained.
“That’s still pretty nebulous.” She looked at Moxtel again. “Are you prophetic?”
Moxtel shook his head. “I can’t see specific events, just sense generalized outcomes.”
“Will Brianne be okay?”
He frowned, then sighed. “Is that really what you want to know?”
With a mental cringe, Lorna realized she was doing it again, thinking about everyone but herself and her mates. They were trying to define their future, not Brianne’s. “Will everyone need to think I’m still your body-slave for me to stay onboard?”
A patient smile parted Moxtel’s lips and gradually warmed his gaze. “Sweetheart, like so many victims of the Skarilians, we’re making this up as we go along. There are no laws, no traditions for most of these situations. If we can prove you’re able to carry our young, you’ll be considered a life-bringer. Until then, you’re our human companion. That’s all anyone else needs to know.”
Lorna nodded. She would pretty much put up with any label as long as her mates stopped calling her slave. But you like it when they call you slave and use discipline to control you, her inner voice argued. How they behaved in the bedroom was different than how she expected to be treated the rest of the time. Her mates needed to understand and agree to the distinction. “So what’s the next step?”
“You tell me exactly what that message contained,” Moxtel insisted, then gave her shoulders a little squeeze. “What did you learn that was so important that you risked severe punishment to let Celeste know?”
Severe punishment? She tensed, not liking the sound of that. But then he had said ‘risked,’ not earned. Maybe there was hope for her bottom yet. Her first impulse was to lie about what she’d learned or tell him some of the less important facts she’d included, but he was a magister. She couldn’t lie to him if she wanted to, and she didn’t really want to. Honesty and trust were the foundation of any lasting relationship. She’d done what she felt necessary, knowing they’d be furious. Now it was time for her to pay the consequences for that choice. “Ram met with some Tavorians. I thought Celeste might have better luck asking them for help than the Ventori.”
“Tarn told you that?” Moxtel sounded both angry and shocked. “She was warned to be more careful about what she said to you.”
“It was not Tarn,” she stressed. No way she was getting Tarn in trouble again. “Two of the other captives brought us food. They spoke in Melmon, but my nano-bots were able to translate.”
“Fucking Melmons,” Belton muttered. “Ram shouldn’t have spared any of them.”
She understood Belton’s bitterness, but disagreed with his conclusion. Rather than voicing her displeasure, however, she kept to the subject at hand. “The girls didn’t know I could understand them, and Tarn couldn’t. No one did anything wrong. At least not intentionally.”
“Except for you,” Belton pointed out. He came out from behind her and stood beside Moxtel.
Lorna sighed. It was back to them against her. She’d brought this on herself, so she couldn’t blame them for reacting exactly as she knew they would.
“Tell me what they said. All of it,” Moxtel persisted as he crossed his arms over his chest.
She was hoping he’d be satisfied with the basic facts. As usual, the devil was in the details. “One of them comforts Ram’s pilot. That’s how she knew about the meeting,” Lorna explained.
“Gods damn it.” Belton shook his head in disgust. “Stagin never could keep his mouth shut.”
“I didn’t ask how they knew it,” Moxtel reminded her. “I asked what they said.”
Oh, yeah, he was back in business mode, in discipline mode. Clearly, he would accept nothing less than full disclosure. She tucked her hair behind her ears and took a deep breath. “According to the girls, they weren’t just Tavorians. Ram met with the prime gatekeeper and Minister Nomani, the Tavorian delegate on the Ventori High Command. I told Celeste that the Tavorians are double-crossing the Protectorate, so she could figure out if she wanted to warn the Ventori or blackmail the Tavorians.”
“Gods of Destruction, woman!” Moxtel fisted his hands as his eyes flashed with inner radiance. “Do you realize what you’ve done?” She started to answer that she did, but he spun to the side and started pacing. “Emergency interrupt for Commander Dulvet, authorization Magister Moxtel Lark 659-D.”
After a brief pause, Ram responded, “What’s wrong, Moxtel? I was finally going to get some sleep.”
“There’s a situation needing your attention, sir. It can’t wait until morning.”
“I’ll be right there.” The commander sounded tired and annoyed.
Dread hit Lorna like an arctic wave. Could her males protect her from their ‘ultimate authority’? She was about to find out.
Ram walked in a few minutes later. Apparently, he didn’t need permission from the occupants to enter their cabins. She took an automatic step toward Belton, but he looked just as angry as the rest.
“What did she do now?” Ram looked at Moxtel, not even sparing her a glance.
She was glad. Ram was slightly taller than Moxtel and more heavily muscled than Belton. Even after being surrounded by Ventori Defenders for almost two years, she found Ram intimidating.
“Stagin’s body-slave was gossiping with a friend and didn’t realize my potential mate could understand her.” Moxtel wasn’t glaring any longer, but his utter lack of expression was even more upsetting.
“How much did Stagin tell the body-slave?”
“All of it.”
Ram’s gaze narrowed. He looked at Lorna, but continued speaking with Moxtel. “I presume there’s more to it, or you’d be having this conversation with Stagin.”
Moxtel pulled the transmitter out of his pocket and handed it to Ram. “Lorna used that to send another message to her sister. Obviously, neither Belton nor I knew she had a backup transmitter, and I disabled her implant last time she pulled this shit.”
After examining the device, Ram looked at Moxtel, gaze narrowed and angry. “Still contend she’s not a spy?” Moxtel started to respond, but Ram waved away the argument. “Clearly, you do not have control over your female. Now I must contain this situation.” He spun toward Lorna, hostile gaze boring into hers. “Who else did you contact?”
She stared back at him in mutinous silence, but inside she was shaking.
Ram started toward her, but Moxtel caught his arm. “She sent one transmission to her sister. That is all.”
Twisting out of Moxtel’s hold, Ram ground out, “I will deal with the sister. Discipline your female, or I will deal with her too.” Without another word, Ram stormed from the cabin.
“Wait! What the hell did that mean? How is he going to ‘deal’ with Celeste? Does he know where to find her?” She ran for the door, but Belton caught her around the waist and swung her back around.
“You need to worry about yourself right now,” he told her as he set her down in front of Moxtel, then took his place beside his cousin.
She looked at Moxtel, torn between panic and fury. “What did he mean?” Her hands clenched as she fought back her temper and fear. Brianne was halfway to being rescued, and now Celeste was in danger. This was unbelievable!
Moxtel looked almost as angry as Ram had. “The
situation you created must be contained. That’s all you need to know.”
“Contained how? Is her life in danger? What will—”
He picked her up and threw her over his shoulder so quickly his shoulder forced the air from her lungs. She kicked and pounded on his back, but her struggle was compromised by the lights dancing in front of her eyes and her sudden lack of air.
“Transform into a spanking bench,” Moxtel said as he strode into the training room.
She’d known this was coming but wasn’t in the right frame of mind to submit. Guilt and frustration pummeled her with alternating blows. “Will Ram kill her or bring her here? Please. I’ll submit to whatever you want, just tell me what he meant.”
Moxtel stilled, his body going tense beneath her. “We do not murder females, even alien females.”
No, they just used them as sex slaves. Flinging that in his face was counterproductive, so she pressed her lips together and stopped struggling. Finally able to draw a deep breath, she scrambled for a solution. He’d alleviated her worst fear, and a sudden rush of guilt surged to the surface. Whatever happened to Celeste from this moment on was Lorna’s fault. It had been Lorna’s idea to allow herself to be caught, and Lorna’s message that made Celeste a target. Tears burned in her throat and flooded her eyes. She frantically blinked, but a few slipped out. Belton was right. There was nothing she could do to help Celeste, no way to warn her of the looming danger. Lorna needed to focus on her own wellbeing right now.
Moxtel lowered her to the floor and quickly unbelted her robe. He pulled the garment off, then turned her away from him without even glancing at her naked body. This wasn’t sexual, at least not yet. She had screwed up big time, and now she must pay.
