by Robyn Bachar
Galen released Andee, but she embraced him and nuzzled the mate marks at his throat. He released a tense, shuddering breath, but shook his head. “I shouldn’t,” he murmured. “My house needs a strong leader. Someone they can trust.”
“Your ability to lead has nothing to do with whom you bed, my lord,” Andee replied. “As long as you see to your duties, your personal life is your own.” She stepped back and held his hands in hers, lacing their fingers together. “And you are seeing to your duties—you’re bedding your mate. If you are so worried about appearances, we can tell anyone who asks that Malcolm is here at my bidding. That Morningstar women have a voracious sexual appetite and I demanded you both, and you relented to appease your new mate. I do have a reputation for seeking the pleasure of multiple males at once.”
“Not anymore,” Galen snapped, and she smiled.
“I am yours, my lord,” she agreed, “and you will have me for the rest of our lives. Nothing we do here will change that. Please trust me, Galen. There is no shame in accepting your body’s desires. Consider this simply another subject of study.”
He was silent for several moments as a storm of emotions boiled through him, but then he nodded slowly. “Just sleep for tonight. If there is time for other…experiences, we can indulge them, but it must not interfere with the mission. And this is only for the duration of the mission. When we return to Cyprena, I am the Sunsinger lord, you are my lady, and Malcolm is an honored guest of our house.”
“Honored guest.” Malcolm repeated the words as though tasting them. “I’ve never been honored before. It sounds important.”
“It is important,” Andee assured him. “Well then, we should get started on that sleep. A warrior should always rest whenever possible. Once we meet with the Alliance and begin the search for the cure, who knows when we’ll be able to sleep again?”
“That’s very wise of you. You sound like Bryn,” Malcolm said.
“Brynnaren is a wise woman and a skilled warrior. I’m confident that she’ll keep Jace in line.” She drew back the covers of the large bed and patted the edge of the mattress. “Here you go, Malcolm. Make yourself comfortable.”
Malcolm ducked into the bed and turned his back to Andee and Galen. Her mate watched her intently as Andee stripped her jacket, boots and trousers and donned a simple coverall. “Are you going to sleep in that?”
“I…no,” he replied.
Andee slid to the center of the bed and rolled to her side, spooning Malcolm and draping an arm over him. He stiffened for a worried moment, but when no protests chastised them he relaxed against her. Closing her eyes, Andee divided her attention between Malcolm’s warm contentment and the prickle of Galen’s anxiety. His desire won over his reluctance, and Andee smiled at the whisper of cloth as Galen joined them under the covers. He inched closer and hesitantly stroked her hair, but then kept his hands to himself as he put some distance between them.
Well, it was a start.
Chapter Five
Galen woke surprised that he had been able to sleep at all. He expected to spend the night tossing and turning, fretful over the situation. Instead, he had dropped into a peaceful sleep, and upon waking he found that they had all shifted during the night. Malcolm sprawled on his back with Andee draped over him, her head pillowed on his chest and one leg resting between his thighs. Galen pressed close against her, one arm hugging her, his palm resting on Malcolm’s torso.
For a moment it felt so right, so natural. Galen’s hard cock pressed against his mate’s ass, and Andee shifted against him with an eager sigh. “Mmm, that’s quite a lovely way to wake up,” she purred.
Galen twitched—if he lowered his hand, he could stroke the erection tenting Malcolm’s loose pants, or if he raised his hand he could cup Andee’s breast and tease her taut nipple. Gods, she was beautiful, and the curve of her body fit perfectly against him, warm and inviting.
The thoughts were so tempting, so arousing that he nearly moaned. Since meeting the indexer, Galen had been undeniably attracted to him. He wanted another taste of Malcolm’s lips, to share a real kiss, not the excited peck they had exchanged while celebrating their escape from the Stormbreaker city. To use his mouth on Malcolm the way Andee had used her mouth on Galen.
He froze, swamped with shame. Such desires were wrong. This temptation was the latest in a long line of torments since the first time Galen realized that he lusted for males—since Jhen. It was shameful for any Cy’ren, and so much worse for the lord of a ruling house. Galen’s duty was to provide mates to rule House Sunsinger after him, not to waste his seed fooling around with sinful pursuits. But as Malcolm and Andee had pointed out, he wasn’t lord here. Galen was simply a male with two lovers eager to please him.
He struggled to breathe and banish those worries in favor of the new truth of the situation.
“A’mhain, it’s all right.” Andee turned and caressed his cheek.
“I know. I am trying to adjust my thinking, but it’s difficult.”
“Sex is simple. It’s our heads and our hearts that complicate matters,” Andee said.
Galen looked from her to Malcolm. There was truth in her words—he wanted her, and he wanted Malcolm. Would he be taking advantage of Malcolm, who Galen had just bought and paid for like a slave? No—he had bought Malcolm’s access to the Collective, nothing more. Not his affections, which were plain to see in the indexer’s dark eyes as he stared at the Cy’ren, waiting.
“I wish I had your confidence,” Galen said. “This is all new to me.”
“So you really were a virgin?” Malcolm winced after the words slipped from his mouth, adding a hasty, “Not that there’s anything wrong with that.”
“Yes,” Galen admitted. “I suppose I still am.”
“Maybe that’s why you’re so worried,” Malcolm suggested. “You’re just not used to being with anyone, male or female. You’ve built a firewall of all the reasons you can’t be with anyone, because you’re afraid of what will happen if you do.”
Was that right? Galen had been alone for nearly his entire life. Was his fear fueled not just by what others would think of such an unconventional relationship, but by the idea of a relationship itself?
Galen swallowed hard. “I want to try, but I don’t want to pressure you into anything, Malcolm. I’m not your master.”
“I know. You wouldn’t be so worried if you were, and we’d all be naked by now.” Malcolm smiled weakly. “He doesn’t ask questions. He only gives orders.”
“Perhaps…if you two could begin, I could observe before joining you.” Galen checked the ship’s chrono. “We aren’t due to meet the Alliance for twelve more hours.”
Andee grinned. “We’ll end up dehydrated if we spend the next twelve hours in bed, my lord. We can save that sort of marathon for when I enter the phase.”
“That’s what made Sabine sick, right?” Malcolm asked.
“Not quite. Being unable to end the phase made her ill,” she corrected. Andee took Malcolm’s hand. “Are you feeling well? No headaches?”
“I’m fine.” Malcolm scratched at the collar of his shirt. “I’d like to keep my clothes on for now. It’s a long story, for another time.”
“That’s all right, a’mhain. Whatever you are comfortable with.”
The indexer quirked a brow at Andee. “What does that mean? Bryn calls Sabine that.”
“It means ‘my darling’,” Galen provided. He hugged Andee for a moment and brushed a kiss against her hair. Flowers—Andee’s hair smelled of the sweet, white flowers that grew wild in the surface ruins above the Sunsinger enclave. She turned and kissed him, long and slow, before drawing away to remove her coverall. Andee removed her undergarments next and stood before them naked and so stunning it nearly stole Galen’s breath.
Malcolm’s gasp echoed Galen’s sentiment. “You’re beautiful,” Malcolm said, his voice low and reverent, like a whispered prayer.
“For a Cy’ren I’m quite average,” she replied, blushing.
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“No, you’re perfect,” Galen assured her. Andee’s body balanced a warrior’s physique with a female’s soft, delicate curves. Dear gods, he was blessed. Andelynn was smart, strong, gorgeous and giving…
“May I pleasure you with my mouth?” Malcolm asked politely.
“Of course, a’mhain.” With a warm smile she lay back atop the bed, positioning herself in the center of the mattress.
“I like that. I’ve never been anyone’s darling before.”
Malcolm leaned over Andee and kissed her slowly, as though tasting and then savoring her lips. Galen swallowed hard as he watched Malcolm kiss a path down the pale gray column of Andee’s throat to her breasts. He cupped one breast and rolled the nipple between his thumb and forefinger while teasing the nipple of the other breast with his lips and tongue.
Galen watched with fevered fascination. Observing Malcolm made Galen feel clumsy, his inexperience plain in comparison to Malcolm’s effortless skill at pleasing Andee. Her dark lashes fluttered and she moaned her approval, threading her fingers through Malcolm’s hair.
When Malcolm’s journey continued, he settled between Andee’s thighs. His fingers stroked the black curls covering the slick seam of her sex, and then he paused, looking shyly up at Galen. “Did you…? Have you been over this lesson?” Malcolm asked.
“No,” he admitted.
“Oh. Well. This is the best and most useful advice I can give about pleasing females. Focus your attention here.” Malcolm traced an area near the top of her sex, and she purred and shivered.
“Excellent advice,” Andee said.
“Oh?” Galen’s brow rose.
Malcolm nodded with a wicked grin. “Males are simple to please, like a single line of computer code. Females are complex, like an entire data archive.”
“Though Cy’ren have an advantage in that our bite causes a climax in both sexes,” Andee added.
“Really? I’ve heard of that, but I’ve never seen it. Can you show me?” Malcolm asked.
Andee promptly bared her throat, and a hungry, primal growl rumbled from deep in Galen’s chest. For a moment the need to possess her blinded him—to possess and claim them both. Galen leaned across Andee’s chest, threaded one hand into her hair and held her in place as he sank his teeth into her flesh. The sweet, hot wine of her blood flowed into his mouth as he greedily drank her down. Andee cried out as she gripped his hair and held him in place. His eyes widened, surprised that he had done something to inspire such ecstasy.
Her moans increased in pitch, and then Malcolm moaned as well. Galen licked the bite closed and sat back. His brow rose at the sight of Malcolm’s face buried between Andee’s legs, her thighs draped over his shoulders as he pleasured her with intense enthusiasm. She moaned further encouragement, and then insistently guided Galen to her breasts. He cupped her breasts and mimicked the attention Malcolm had paid them earlier, rolling the nipples between his thumbs and forefingers. Her back arched as she thrust the peaks into his hands.
“Did I mention that you have perfect breasts?” Galen said.
Andee giggled, and his already aching cock throbbed at the bubbly sound. “I do not,” she replied.
“It’s true. They’re high and firm. Full enough to fill my hands with nothing to waste.” Galen lowered his mouth to taste the taut buds of her nipples, and Andee cried out again. She trembled, her beautiful gray skin covered with a light sheen of sweat as she moaned and writhed beneath them.
Malcolm drew away when she quieted, and he sat back. Galen pounced on him, eager to taste his mate on the indexer’s lips. Sweet, he decided—sweet yet spicy, like an exotic dessert. They kissed long, their stroking tongues exploring and feasting on the tastes of each other.
“Please,” Andee moaned. “Galen, please. I need you inside me. I want you to fill me as I suck Malcolm’s cock.”
Galen growled again, consumed with desire at the image of Andee stretched between them as they fucked her from either end. The need—the desperate hunger—burning within him was new and foreign, but he welcomed it.
“Yes,” he agreed.
Malcolm unfastened his pants and freed his cock, and Galen licked his lips at the sight of it. One day he would taste it for himself, but his lady had asked for that honor first, and he would oblige her. Andee rolled to her hands and knees and crawled toward the indexer. Her pink tongue teased Malcolm’s shaft. Malcolm’s hands tangled in her hair, and he swallowed hard as he met Galen’s gaze.
“Kneel behind her,” Malcolm said.
The corners of Galen’s mouth twitched as he obeyed—he certainly had demanding lovers.
“Put both hands on her hips and thrust,” Malcolm directed. “Make sure your aim is good. She won’t appreciate it if you try to take her ass without any lube.”
Galen quirked a brow, certain he missed some context there. Andee chuckled, her mouth too full to manage a reply, but her amusement turned to a happy moan as Galen’s cock slid into her hot, dripping sex. He threw his head back and held on, letting instinct take over the rest as he thrust hard and fast. Dear gods. This was bliss. His fingers dug into her hips, but she didn’t seem to mind. Instead, her own sounds of pleasure increased in volume and timing. Malcolm gasped as his eyes locked with Galen’s, and a scorching look of hungry lust passed between them.
The room filled with moans of climax as Malcolm came in Andee’s mouth and Galen filled her sex with his seed. The walls of Andee’s sex tightened around his cock, milking him as her own orgasm shuddered through her. Beautiful—they were so beautiful in their shared pleasure. Galen wondered how anyone could disapprove of such a union, but he sobered at the thought, because he knew that someone would. Jhen’s entire family had been moved to another city to prevent possible scandal.
They would be careful. Discreet. For now, the three of them were sated, and they curled up together atop the bed. Galen’s brow rose as Andee and Malcolm discussed ideas for future activities, and Galen wondered if they would get any sleep during this journey.
In her neatly pressed uniform, Andee stood at her mate’s side as the ship’s VFF drive disengaged. Well, it was a uniform of sorts—the resistance had no official uniform, and though she wore the navy blue and gold of House Morningstar, she wasn’t allowed to wear the garb of a shadow sword. She’d already noted her mate’s displeasure at the color choice. Galen no doubt wanted her in the Sunsinger colors—red and gold, from dark to light—but a wardrobe update would have to wait.
Andee flinched as shock erupted from the bridge.
“What’s wrong?” Galen asked.
“I’m not certain. I’ll be right back.”
Andee left the ready room and stepped onto the bridge. The crew’s attention was fixed on the viewport, and Andee followed their gazes and gasped with horror. The shining, silver Alliance battle group was shattered, broken. Chunks of wreckage listed through the blackness of space, some spinning slowly as they vented coolant and atmosphere.
Andee felt the moment that the captain overcame her shock, like a power unit cycling on. “I want sensor readouts now!” Captain Hawke snapped. “I want to know what happened here. Are there enemy ships still in the system?”
Lieutenant Loren leapt into action, his hands an indigo blur over his console. “I’m not reading any Syndicate ships. There’s a lot of interference out there.”
“Life signs?” the captain asked.
“Inconclusive,” Loren replied.
“Yes,” Andee said. They looked at her sharply, and she stood straighter. “I sense something out there. I can attempt to narrow my focus and pinpoint where survivors are.”
“Do it,” Hawke ordered.
Commander Soth rose and patted his seat. “Sit here, my lady.”
Captain Hawke spoke into the comm. “Malcolm, can you access the Alliance ships? I want to know what happened here.”
“I’ll try, Captain,” he replied.
Andee folded her hands as she perched uncomfortably in Soth’s chair. The shadow swor
d stood guard behind her; apparently he had been the head of the Sunsinger shadow swords, though Lieutenant Loren held the position now. Neither male seemed particularly pleased to call Andelynn the lady of their house.
Blocking out the Talon II’s crew, Andee closed her eyes and focused on the surrounding space. It was so quiet—Cyprena was noisy, the emotions of the Cy’ren around her a constant blare that faded but never fell silent. But here, light-years away from the nearest planet, Andee only sensed her shipmates, and there were less of them than there were staff in the manor.
She frowned at the strangeness of the first brush of energy outside of the ship. It was wrong somehow. Andee was used to reading Cy’ren, with a few humans and other humanoid races who visited Cyprena. In general the beings were similar in their emotional complexity. The energy that she sensed now was simple, single-minded with need. She hadn’t sensed anything like it before. Not in adults. The memory triggered a deeper frown.
“What is it?” Captain Hawke asked, bleeding anxious impatience.
Andee opened her eyes. “I sense something, but it’s not right. It’s like reading my nieces after they were born. My family joked that I would be able to always tell what the babies needed, but infants don’t know what they need. They just need, all the time.”
Captain Hawke’s eyes widened. “Dear God. They’re infected with the Lazarus virus.”
“Confirmed, Captain,” Malcolm agreed over the comm. “I’m accessing the log of the Alliance warship Red October. The battle group was ambushed by a Syndicate fleet that pulled them into real space before they were prepared. Unmanned drones punched through the Alliance’s shields, penetrated their hulls and released a weaponized aerosol version of the Lazarus virus. Then the Syndicate ships used the chaos to destroy a few warships, and let the virus do the rest.”
Captain Hawke swore under her breath, shaking her head. “There must be some survivors. Crew who were locked down in a safe location, or made it to a lifeboat before the virus spread. Are you picking up any distress signals?”
