by Robyn Bachar
Jace’s anger cooled. “I have no doubt of that.”
“But you don’t understand. Not completely. You’re as high on phase pheromones as Sabine is, and I’ve lived among Cy’ren long enough to know that the phase turns males into stubborn jerks. Bryn shouldn’t be punished for helping me.”
Jace frowned as his temper flared. He certainly did not need a lecture on how to treat his females from a human, but the indexer stood his ground.
“If nothing else, remember that your house may be known for patience, but kindness…” Malcolm trailed off, and Jace gave a grudging nod.
“Point taken. Good luck with your task.”
Jace left the indexer in peace and went in search of the captain. As an officer with the resistance, Jace fought slavers on a regular basis, and had liberated countless slaves from terrible conditions, but seeing slavery and experiencing it were different matters. The phase drove him to possess Sabine, but after the effects wore off, she might not want him. Sabine and Bryn wanted each other, and their freedom. Jace doubted that either had aspired to become involved in Cy’ren politics, but now they would inevitably be drawn into that web.
He resolved to tell them more about his family, and to ask them what they wanted to do once Sabine was healthy again. But first, he needed to speak with the captain, who was not in the med bay as Malcolm had thought. Instead, Jace found her in the armory, practicing her swordplay. He paused to watch her. Mordackai had been teaching her swordsmanship, and his tutelage was obvious in her form. Dack, like Soth, was built for strength and stamina over speed.
Captain Hawke turned and spotted him. “Going to critique my form, Harrow?”
“Your technique is improving,” he replied. “You still lead too strongly from your right.”
The captain sheathed her practice blade and sat on a bench. She eyed him as she mopped sweat from her brow with a towel. “I didn’t expect to see you this soon.”
“Sabine is ill. The doctor tended to her, and now she is resting. I thought I would take the opportunity to check in.”
“I see. Sam’s still fussing over the VFF drive, but he almost has it repaired. Other than that, it’s been quiet. What’s wrong with Sabine?”
“Apparently her former master had been drugging her, and she is experiencing withdrawal symptoms. Dr. Morgan feels they will pass in a few days.”
“Bastard,” she growled. “Have you read Lieutenant Viera’s file?”
Jace winced. “No. My apologies. I should have done that when you reinstated her.”
“Well, she’s not officially reinstated yet. Dr. Morgan needs to clear her. Brynnaren had several commendations for actions above and beyond the call of duty. It sounds like she was a good soldier. I hope she will be again. Are you taking her as your mate too?”
“I am, yes.”
“Good. You should make her your shathlinn.”
The corners of his mouth twitched. “I hardly need a full-time bodyguard. Unless you’re planning to shoot me, Captain?”
Captain Hawke chuckled. “It’s an urge I fight on a daily basis. It’s not a bad idea, considering how cutthroat Cy’ren politics are, and getting worse by the minute. No one would expect that one of your mates is also your bodyguard.”
“That does defeat the purpose of naming a shathlinn. They are meant to be visible. A show of strength to deter your enemies.”
She shrugged. “But it would keep her on the ship, if that was something you both wanted. You can’t serve with your mate, but you can’t be without your shathlinn. Dr. Morgan is going to do a physical and psychological workup on Bryn before we reach Cyprena. If she’s cleared, I’ll put her on the duty roster.”
Jace nodded, pondering the idea. It had merit, though having Bryn at his side wouldn’t help his plan for Bryn keeping Sabine safe from his brother’s machinations.
“I’ll speak to Bryn about it. I would advise against active duty for Brynnaren until Sabine’s phase is over.”
Captain Hawke nodded, and then fidgeted with the towel in her hands. “Jace…off the record, I’m worried about you.”
“Me?” he asked, startled.
“You and I clash on a regular basis because you’re arrogant. You’re a good pilot, a good fighter, and you’re wealthy and powerful and you know it. I was hoping the hit you’d taken on Nepheros would give you some perspective, but I haven’t seen much change in you. And if you don’t get it together, there will come a day when you fuck up and someone dies, and you’ll have to live with that.”
“People have died under my command. It is the nature of battle.”
“No, people have died on your team. You’ve never given an order and sent someone to their death. It changes you. Right now you’re all pride and no humility.”
Jace straightened. “I don’t agree with your assessment.”
She snorted and shook her head. “Of course you don’t.”
He was guilty of being overconfident and having a tendency to speak aloud witty comments that would be better left unsaid, but arrogant seemed a bit harsh. Of course, a great deal of that was due to the image he chose to present. It was safer—for Jace and for the people around him—if he appeared to be a shallow, conceited ass.
“What would you have me do?” he asked.
“Don’t be yourself.”
He shifted, uncomfortable under the captain’s regard. No matter how hard he fought it, Jace was his father’s son. A Morningstar—not the one that mattered to the future of the house, but that didn’t stop the longing to rule that was part of his blood, no matter how much he distanced himself from his family. Wylarric’s desire for power had poisoned him, turned him into a paranoid jackass who saw conspiracies in every shadow. He was certain to see one in Jace’s new mates.
“Is that all, Captain?” Jace asked.
“Just be careful, Jace. Bryn and Sabine are already damaged. Don’t break them because you’re too stubborn to change. Dismissed.”
Chapter Eight
Bryn paged the doctor after Jace left, worried that Sabine would become dehydrated if she couldn’t keep food and drink down. Much to Bryn’s annoyance, Dr. Morgan couldn’t help Sabine. The only thing the doctor was willing to do was ink their mate marks. Now they were both branded property of Najacen Harrow, Second Son of House Morningstar. At least he would have to wear her mark as well, and branding Jace with Clan Wintersend’s sigil for the rest of his life removed some of the sting from receiving what amounted to another master’s mark.
After the doctor left, Sabine ended up back in bed with Bryn snuggled beside her. “Should I start thinking of names?” Sabine asked.
“For Jace? I can think of a few,” Bryn muttered.
“Stop that. You like him.”
“Do I?”
“Yes, you do. Otherwise you’d have killed him,” Sabine said. It wasn’t inaccurate. Killing Jace, or Soth, wouldn’t have solved their problem, and Bryn would have just ended up in the brig. If this ship even had a brig.
“He needs work. Training.”
“True. Most males do. But I was talking about names for the baby.”
Bryn rolled her eyes. “You’re not pregnant. You might not even become pregnant. I didn’t, when I was in phase.”
“Your phase was normal. Mine’s amped up,” Sabine said. Bryn snorted, because she doubted there was any normal phase, and her lover frowned. Bryn brushed a gentle kiss against her forehead. Sabine was still warm, but not feverish, and her shaking and nausea had stopped.
“I wouldn’t get your hopes up. If the best shadow swords that House Wintersend had to offer couldn’t knock me up, I doubt a few rounds with the second son will do it for you.”
Sabine giggled. “You like him,” she accused again, and Bryn shrugged.
“We’ll see. He’s a lord’s son, and I’ve yet to meet a trustworthy politician. His first w
ord was probably a lie. He has a nice ass, though. I’ll say that for him. I approve of a male with a tight butt.”
Sabine giggled again, and it was a beautiful sound. She needed to laugh more often—maybe now that they were free she would, even if it was a marginal freedom.
The door opened and Jace entered, frowning in confusion at Sabine’s laughter. “What’s so funny?”
“We’re critiquing your posterior. You should strip so we can get a better look,” Bryn replied. “Oh, and your jacket is safe. I hung it in your closet.”
“Thank you.”
As Jace checked on the status of his jacket, she spotted the new mate marks inked on his neck. Bryn slipped out of bed to get a closer look, and he paused at her approach. She traced the black markings that nearly blended into his charcoal skin. For now Sabine’s heritage mark was blank, but the rest of the symbols were there.
“Very nice. Wintersend suits you,” she teased.
“It itches,” he admitted.
“That’ll wear off.” Bryn caressed the unmarked side of his throat. She remembered the pain, the humiliation of receiving each of her slave marks. “Your lord father will be scandalized that you have the rune of a lesser house on display.”
“He’ll be more scandalized by the fact that you are a female shadow sword.” Jace wrapped an arm around her waist and drew her closer. “He prefers his females docile and ladylike.”
“And what do you prefer?” Sabine asked. Bryn glanced back and her pulse jumped at the sight of Sabine kneeling on the bed, watching them like a huntress stalking her prey.
“I prefer my females with spirit. As long as they don’t attempt to stab me.”
Bryn unfastened his belt. “Well if you play nice with her, I won’t have to stab you.”
“That’s very comforting.” Jace nuzzled her neck as though about to bite her. “How is she?” he asked, his voice little more than a whisper. Bryn leaned into him and playfully nipped at his earlobe.
“She’s fine, for now. She’ll be better when she’s out of phase, so get to work,” Bryn murmured. She slapped his ass for teasing emphasis and earned herself a bite in response. Waves of pleasure shuddered through her until her toes curled and she moaned.
Jace kissed her, drugging her senses with the taste of her blood on his lips. “Back to bed,” he ordered, and she snorted.
“Yes sir.”
She rejoined Sabine, who pounced on Bryn and kissed her breathless. Sabine pinned her back and trailed hungry kisses down her body until she settled between Bryn’s legs. She shivered as Sabine licked her slit, and Bryn watched Jace stalk toward the bed, position himself behind Sabine and thrust into her sex. Sabine moaned, and the three of them took up a rhythm as Sabine pleasured Bryn and Jace pleasured Sabine.
Sabine was an expert on Bryn’s body—she knew where Bryn liked to be licked or bitten, caressed or pinched, and, best of all, how to stroke the spot within her sex that sent Bryn over the edge. Their lovemaking was bittersweet, but there was no denying the pleasure of her mate’s touch. The ecstasy of orgasm overwhelmed Bryn, and it led from one climax into the next as Sabine continued, relentless as always. Sabine moaned and sighed her own climaxes, and Bryn was surprised to note two, then three—not bad for a male that had recently been a virgin. Suddenly Jace drew Sabine back against his body, holding her to him with one hand as he bared her throat with the other. He bit her, and Sabine screamed as she writhed against him.
When she quieted he released her, and Sabine crawled into Bryn’s arms and collapsed with a lazy, impish smile. Bryn held Sabine close, comforted by the familiarity of holding her mate but worried about the feverish heat that still radiated from Sabine’s sweat-slicked skin.
“That was lovely. I’m glad we’re keeping him,” Sabine murmured.
Jace snorted as he stretched out beside them. “Good to know I’m useful for something.”
“You should take Bryn next,” Sabine suggested.
“No. You need this. I don’t,” Bryn argued. “Plus you did an excellent job of pleasing me.”
Jace rolled onto his side and trailed a hand down Sabine’s back. She slipped to the other side of Bryn and nudged her toward Jace. “But I want to watch, and he needs to learn how to please you too.”
“Yes, he does,” Jace agreed. Judging by the stiffness of his cock, he was more than ready to begin a lesson.
Males. Bryn sighed, and then gasped as Sabine draped an arm over her and began teasing her nipples. A lovely ache spread from the hard peaks, and she nearly purred. Like any warrior, Bryn had old scars, and she shivered as Jace traced a thin line slashed above her hip bone.
“Sword training got out of hand,” she explained. Bryn brushed her fingers over a scar on his inner thigh. “Nice. Laser?”
Jace nodded. “Burned through my armor fighting mercs on Nepheros.”
Her brow rose, momentarily impressed. “Any higher and you’d have had your cock shot off.” She stroked his sex for emphasis, and he gasped. Bryn grudgingly admitted that he did have a nice cock in addition to his tight ass. If they had to be tied to a male, at least they’d gotten a good specimen. It begged the question of why he’d never taken a lover before, because he certainly had nothing to be ashamed of.
“I don’t have any battle scars to show off,” Sabine said, almost sounding disappointed.
“That’s a good thing, a’mhain,” Bryn assured her.
Jace growled as he traced a finger along Bryn’s jaw, turned her head and bared her throat. She shuddered, closing her eyes with a soft sigh, and submitted to the bite. As he drank deeply she relaxed against him, giving in to the sensation.
Sabine whimpered and stroked Jace’s cock as he drank from Bryn. When he drew away, Bryn eyed his throat, eager to return the favor. Jace turned his head and Bryn bit him, pleased and surprised that he surrendered so easily.
“You like him, a’gra,” Sabine murmured.
Jace growled and pulled away, and Bryn moaned as his mouth claimed hers, reveling in the power of shared blood. He tasted different from Sabine—her blood was sweet and heady, like an after-dinner wine, while Jace’s was a punch to the system, like a swig of hard liquor.
Jace rolled atop Bryn, settling himself between her thighs, and Bryn placed a hand on his chest. “Wait. I don’t need this.”
“I do. I want to watch him fuck you,” Sabine said. Both Bryn and Jace blinked at her in surprise.
“He already did. You slept through the first round,” Bryn pointed out.
“Well now you have to make up for starting without me.” Sabine lay back, pleasuring herself. “I need to see you together. My pretty mates. Go on.”
Bryn tried to comfort herself with the knowledge that Sabine’s sudden interest in watching was a sign of progress in her condition. Sabine had always had a voyeuristic streak before her phase that had vanished once the need demanded that she be the constant center of attention. Jace, on the other hand, likely wanted to assert his dominance as their lord and master.
“You’re greedy, Second Son.” Bryn poked him in the chest for emphasis.
Jace grinned. “I have been accused of as much.”
He thrust into her, and Bryn arched her back. While Jace sat back and loomed over them, Sabine lowered her mouth to Bryn’s breasts, licking and sucking her taut nipples as one hand dipped to stroke her clit. Between Sabine’s teasing and Jace’s hard thrusts Bryn came quickly, but they were both relentless. Damned phase pheromones. Her mate—mates—seemed determined to wring as much sensation from Bryn as possible, and she reasoned that it was only polite to oblige them.
Bryn had little reason left after the third climax, and she tugged Sabine’s face to hers and kissed her passionately. “A’gra, a’mhain,” she said. My love, my darling.
Bryn looked up into Sabine’s golden eyes, but then Jace laid his body over hers and bit her again. She cr
ied out as sharp pleasure flooded her, and she wrapped her arms around him and held him close as his cock pulsed inside her.
Sabine propped herself up next to them and licked her lips. “Hmm, you are right. He does have a nice ass.”
Bryn chuckled at Jace’s shocked expression. “We’re very fond of your body, Second Son.”
“Good to know. I’m fond of both of yours as well.”
“Excellent,” Sabine said. “Now I think you should lie back so I can suck your cock.”
Bryn rolled her eyes. It was going to be a long day indeed.
Chapter Nine
For most of her childhood Sabine had lived in an agricultural colony on Ranvoy 4. The climate there was mild, perfect for farming, but during the summer thunderstorms rolled across the plains. Sabine had loved watching the dark clouds approach, the anticipation of the storm about to be unleashed.
When Sabine woke, her head was clear, but she knew that the phase would return, as certain as the march of oncoming storm clouds. Still, this was the first moment of real peace she’d had since it began. Sabine snuggled deeper into the warm circle of Bryn’s arms, but she was surprised to find Jace missing from the bed. She was further surprised by the rush of concern it caused—her body had accepted him as her mate, but her heart was another matter. He’d have to earn his spot there, if he wanted it, but she supposed that it made sense that she was becoming emotionally attached to him. It wouldn’t be easy to spend her life mated to a male she felt only lust for, and he seemed likeable. Amiable. Trainable…
Sabine spotted him at his desk, and she gently untangled herself from her lover’s arms. Bryn frowned in her sleep, but Sabine tucked the blanket around her and brushed a kiss against the other female’s cheek.
“Sleep, a’mhain,” Sabine murmured.
Jace glanced up at her approach and she helped herself to a seat on his lap. He was half-dressed, wearing only a loose pair of pants. He wrapped his arms around her, and it was different from the warmth and security she felt with Bryn—this was the chemical reaction of the phase, ensuring their continued desire for each other. Not bad, just not the same. His emotions brushed against her as she leaned into his embrace. He was worried about something, bordering on frightened; the emotions were completely at odds with his calm exterior. On the surface Jace seemed carved from stone, and Sabine wouldn’t have noticed his distress without her resurfacing aleithir abilities.
