by Celia Kyle
So why did she feel like she was making the most horrible mistake of her life? Excitement and vindication should course through her veins. She should be overjoyed. Yet the further she walked away from Zyriq’s ship, the worse she felt—mentally and physically.
It… it hurt. Her stomach churned, unease curdling her belly and stirring the acids. Each step felt as if she dragged a leaden weight behind her, sapping more and more of her strength. But she made it. She made it across ASZ and onto a transport that deposited her on her deck. She was sooo close to a hot bath and a nap. She simply had to make it another few yards and—
Baila padded around the corner and froze, spying two station rats and the station master near her quarters. And just like that, the turmoil in her stomach resurged, attacking her from inside out. Fighting for calm, she took a deep breath and centered herself before speaking.
“Can I help you?”
The station rats stroked her with their creepy gazes, something she didn’t want to identify lurking in their expressions. Steeling her spine, she forced herself to move forward and close the distance between them. She refused to be cowed by those two. Until she was kicked out, these were her quarters, dammit.
Being strong didn’t mean she had to be stupid, though. She scrambled for her comm unit and pressed one of the programmed buttons. A familiar chime filled her ear and then came her mother’s voice.
Thank the stars.
“Hey, Mom,” she flashed a grin at the now glaring station rats and station master. She wasn’t sure what those three had planned, but she doubted it would have been good. “How have you been?”
Not taking her eyes off the group of men, she reached for the identification pad to the right of the door. Handprint quickly scanned, the door slid open to grant her entrance, and she moved into the safety of her home. She waved at the three men, thrilled that she’d managed to avoid a confrontation, and then reached for the button to close the doors behind her. A quick tap and the panels engaged, sliding toward each other to lock her in and them out.
Except the station master swung his arm out and gripped one of the doors, shoving it back along its track. “Remember,” he snarled, “without a job, you have forty-eight hours to find a new job or book travel off the station. Ark Station Zeta doesn’t allow freeloaders.”
Did he really have to say that while she was on the phone with her mother? As if Baila didn’t have enough problems?
Her mother’s screech echoed through the receiver, hurting her ears with the high-pitched spike. “You were fired?”
It wasn’t like Baila did it on purpose.
With a sigh, she engaged the lock, securing her quarters, and then padded through her small apartment. Her comm unit passed the call off from her personal device to the integrated apartment tech. Now her mother’s voice bounced off the metal walls and her face filled the entirety of a nearby vid screen.
And thus, the beginning of the end. She’d been so careful about hiding everything from her mom, but that bit of magic was gone. As evidenced by her mother’s attention moving from Baila’s face to her rather impressive bulge.
“Baila Jennex Dar’toren,” her mother snarled and pointed at Baila’s tummy. “You’re either fat or pregnant and no Dar’toren has ever been born out of wedlock. So if you’re pregnant, you better also be married, young lady.”
Chapter 5
Determination fueled Zyriq’s every step, his sire’s words filling his mind.
“It is unfortunate the young one comes bound in such a package, but it shall be of Morea all the same. Our genes are superior to all.”
Zyriq still wasn’t sure whether he should be happy his father had half-welcomed Baila or angry his father wasn’t more enthusiastic about his impending bonding.
In truth, his only emotion was relief. His sire hadn’t given him an ultimatum like Zyriq knew other, staider Moreans would. There were others on Morea who would not look favorably upon creating a family with someone not of their kind.
His sire’s main concern was transporting Baila to Morea as soon as possible so she could be monitored by his father’s healers. To start, Zyriq was ordered to have Adhoe transmit Baila’s medical records to the home planet. Zyriq did not doubt his healer’s abilities, but when Zyriq’s sire issued a decree, it would be followed.
Medical’s doors parted at Zyriq’s approach, the ship granting him entrance to any and all rooms on Warking’s Blade. His shoes thumped on the solid metal flooring with his every step as he strode into Adhoe’s domain. He generally steered clear of the place. Adhoe was an excellent healer as he told others often, but Zyriq preferred to stay free of medical unless he was injured and unconscious.
Zyriq allowed the doors to close behind him and then scanned the large room with his gaze. His eyes ghosted over each med platform in search for his Baila only to find all of the beds empty.
“Adhoe?” He raised his voice and called out for the absent healer. He stepped deeper into the room. “Baila?”
No one replied.
Zyriq raised his voice, a bellow from a superior officer to his subordinate. “Healer Adhoe!”
No reply, which wrenched a growl from Zyriq’s chest. “Blade, locate Healer Adhoe and my bonded, Baila.”
Before the ship could reply, the doors at Zyriq’s back whooshed open once more.
“War Captain Zyriq?” It seemed the healer had finally returned.
“Cancel that request, Blade.” Zyriq spun to face Adhoe and caught a fleeting hint of unease flash across the healer’s features. He narrowed his eyes and stared down at the other warrior when he asked his next question. “Baila was to remain in the sick bay until she was healed and I came for her. Yet she is not here. Where is she?”
Adhoe’s lips twitched, one side curling up in a small sneer as he shook his head. “I understand your draw to the human female. I admit humans are intriguing, but you are the first son of—”
Zyriq raised a hand to silence the male. “Watch your words. She is to be my bonded. Where is she?”
Adhoe pressed his lips together until they formed a white slash below his nose. His jaw clenched, and his body grew taut, almost as if he sought to keep the truth from bursting past his lips.
Zyriq took a single step closer, staring down at the healer. “Where?”
“Gone,” Adhoe spat with a wheezing breath.
“Gone?” He shook his head, unable to believe the healer’s words. He might not agree with Adhoe’s beliefs, but the male had never been one to lie. Baila was gone? “She left the ship? She…”
“You do not need a human, Zyriq. You should bond with a female of worthy blood. Not a with a human of dubious origins.”
“Enough,” Zyriq hissed and sliced his hand through the air, silencing the healer.
“We are of Morea! I am the finest healer and you are the first son! Associating with a human is beneath us both. I gave her directions to the exit and good riddance.” Adhoe growled as the last words left his mouth, his squared jaw clenched tight. “Morea should not be soiled by a woman such as her.”
Heat spread through Zyriq until fury grasped control of his body. He seized Adhoe’s tunic and used his grip to slam the male against the bulkhead. One hand went to his throat, cutting off the male’s air, while he laid his forearm across Adhoe’s chest. His muscles tensed and flexed, strength keeping the male in place.
“Because of the ties between our families, I will give you this warning. Baila Dar’toren is my bonded and a gift from the Heart of Morea itself. She carries my young—the future of Morea. Speak against her again and you will not live to see your home again. Interfere in our bonding and you damn your entire line with dishonor.” Zyriq kept his dark gaze intent on Adhoe, waiting for some sign that the male understood his words. Yes, he needed to hunt Baila, but he would not bring her back to the ship without adjusting Adhoe’s attitude.
“Do you heed my words, Adhoe?”
The healer remained silent for another beat and then two before releas
ing his breath in a quick gust. His gaze dropped to the ground, head bobbing forward. “Yes, War Captain.”
Zyriq grunted and released Adhoe, moving back to give the male room to breathe. As the healer bent at the waist, hands on his knees to keep him partially upright, Zyriq issued additional orders.
“I will locate Baila and return with her, and you will treat her with the respect due the bonded of the first son. Is that understood?”
“Yes, War Captain,” Adhoe rasped, rubbing his bruised throat. The male deserved those bruises.
He didn’t say another word, choosing to walk away before he harmed Adhoe further. One negative word about Baila and Zyriq… and he was willing to commit murder. He did not feel bad for those thoughts.
Zyriq stalked through the ship, all the while praying that the warrior stationed by the airlock had not allowed her to leave. He hoped, instead, he’d find an annoyed Baila glaring at him for being denied an exit.
Then he turned the corner, his anger still burning hot and frustrated over Adhoe’s speciest attitude. The moment he spotted Pach standing guard at the airlock, uniform wrinkled and shoulders slouched forward slightly, he knew his hopes were not meant to be. The biopatch from ASZ medical remained stuck to his neck, the medication working to cure the younger male of Violet Pox. In the meantime, Zyriq had asked Chall to keep Pach busy. The young warrior wasn’t stepping foot off the ship until ASZ gave him the all-clear.
Zyriq reminded himself that the queen had a fondness for Pach. Otherwise he might commit murder.
Zyriq stomped toward the warrior and fought to grasp what remained of his patience. Wasting time shouting and lecturing would simply delay his hunt for his bonded.
“Warrior Pach,” he sighed. “Which way did Baila travel?”
Pach stared at him with wide eyes and more than a simple hint of fear. He trembled as he pointed toward ASZ and the left of their ship.
Zyriq searched his memories of his last trip to Ark Station Zeta. There were many features to tempt a human if Baila had truly gone left, but he had a feeling she did not stop to eat or be entertained by a show. No, she had appeared utterly exhausted when he had last laid eyes on her. His bonded more than likely sought her own bed, and he cursed Adhoe and Pach for allowing her to leave. Otherwise she would be resting in his bed.
He stepped toward the airlock, mind envisioning the station’s layout, and he sought a quicker path to Baila’s quarters.
A set of heavy footsteps announced the arrival of another crewmember, and Zyriq glanced over, meeting his second’s gaze.
“Trouble, Zyriq?” Chall blatantly ignored Pach, and Zyriq could not blame his second in command. Pach’s Violet Pox infection had delayed Chall’s own excursion onto ASZ as well.
“I am going on a hunt.”
“For?” Chall lifted a single brow.
“My bonded.” He gnashed his teeth, surprised when they did not crack. He resumed his ground-eating strides down the hall to the airlock and called to his second just before he exited the ship. “This time, when I find her, I will not let her out of my sight.”
At least not until they departed Ark Station Zeta and he knew she could not escape the ship.
Zyriq stepped onto the station and sensed Chall standing close. “Why are you coming with me?”
Chall moved to Zyriq’s side and matched his pace. “It is dangerous for a male to hunt alone, no matter the prey.”
Zyriq grunted. He was aware of the rule, but he did not believe it applied to a situation such as this.
“Besides,” Chall conditioned. “I have sisters. I know how to best secure a female.”
“Is that so?” Zyriq smirked at his friend.
Chall shrugged. “I know they would end my life if they did not travel with their belongings. You will need assistance gathering her things.”
Zyriq considered his second’s words and did not immediately order the male to return to Warking’s Blade. Perhaps he had a point. Perhaps.
Zyriq recalled the layout of ASZ, tapping into the memories of his last visit to the station. When he’d spent hours in bed with Baila. They stepped onto a transport and he programmed Baila’s level. Then they waited as the capsule moved. Soon they were released into the ragged corridor that would lead him closer to his bonded. He took turn after turn, Chall no more than two steps behind, until he finally stopped before an old, time-worn door.
“Is this truly her dwelling?” Chall’s voice was tinged with disgust and Zyriq leveled a searing glare on the male. No one would be allowed to criticize his bonded. “I apologize.” Chall held up his hands in surrender. “It is not fit for the bonded of Morea’s first son.”
There was truth in his statement.
Zyriq banged on the door, not bothering with the control panel to his right. Baila stated it worked as often as it did not. “Baila, grant me entrance.” He did not hear a sound in response, so he banged again. “Baila!” She could not hide from him. Now that he discovered she carried his young, there was nothing that could stop him from binding her to him. “Baila!”
His friend’s heavy stare settled on him and he turned to meet the male’s gaze. “What?”
Chall shrugged and stepped closer to the door. “Nothing can stand against the strength of a Morean.”
Chall placed a palm on the door itself and used his strength to push and pull the panels apart at the seam. The moment he grasped the two halves with his hands, he twisted and shoved the metal until the door stretched and bent so badly it could not close again.
“What are you doing?” Zyriq stared at the jagged, twisted metal that used to represent Baila’s security. “You broke it.”
Chall shrugged. “You wished to enter. Now you can.”
Yes, Zyriq could, but he recalled the human oddity of asking for permission before entering a space a human called home. His bonded would not look kindly upon Chall’s actions. But what was the human saying? Better to ask forgiveness… He could not recall but he did know Baila enjoyed his kisses. He would simply kiss her if she began to shout.
That was an excellent plan.
Without another look to Chall, Zyriq strode into Baila’s quarters to search out his bonded. He recalled that the dwelling was not large, and she did not have many places to hide. They stepped just beyond the small entryway and past the kitchen into the central area when they were accosted by a furious shriek.
“Which one of you put the bastard bun in my daughter’s oven?”
Zyriq scanned the space, his gaze immediately going to the large screen attached to the far wall. A human female’s face filled the display, her appearance familiar and yet not. Had she said the word daw-ter? And also, the human word bastard. This had to be his bonded’s dam and she seemed very angry over his and Baila’s currently unbonded state. He would make sure their young was not a bastard.
Zyriq squared his shoulders and strode closer to the screen, pulling his cloak of importance and pride around him. He was the first son. He did not cower for anyone.
“I am the sire.”
“What are your intentions?” the female demanded, eyes so like his bonded’s now narrowed in suspicion.
He crossed his arms over his chest and settled into place. There was only one female who deserved to ask that question, and only she would be answered. Just because this female was Baila’s dam did not mean Zyriq would grovel at her feet.
“I know you can understand me.” The woman pointed a finger at him, frustration making her tremble. “Do you care about Baila? How do you plan on taking care of her? Of the baby?”
More questions he would only answer for his bonded. Did humans not know about personal boundaries?
Before her mother could rattle off another handful of questions, Baila emerged from another room, a large knife clutched in her hand and pure aggravation in her expression.
“Mom, please shut up,” she hissed and then turned her attention—and the knife—in Zyriq’s direction. “How did you…” Before she finished, her gaze skirt
ed beyond him to spy their method of entry. “Zyriq, did you two do that? I don’t have the money to fix that door!”
“It is not a problem.” Zyriq murmured the words in a low, soothing tone. Hoping to reassure the wild-eyed Baila.
It did not work. She snarled at him. “It is going to be a problem when the station master charges me for the repairs.”
“All will be well,” he murmured again and then turned his head to give Chall a hard stare. He mentally cursed the male for breaking the door in the first place, even if he benefited from Chall’s actions. “You will fix my bonded’s entrance.”
Baila’s balance wavered, her body swaying back and forth for a moment, as if her strength waned. He imagined exhaustion crowded her, her short sleep in Warking’s Blade’s sick bay not enough to banish all of her tiredness. She had worked a full shift, been fired, and then he’d come upon her.
That she seemed so close to collapse proved he was already a poor bonded. She should not be in such a state, but he would correct his error as soon as possible.
Zyriq slowly reached for Baila, fingers skimming her forearm, then wrist, and finally her hand. He teased her grip until it loosened, and he drew the knife from her hold. Disarmed, he spoke softly.
“Everything will be well, Baila. I swear it.” He used the tone reserved only for her—the one imbued with his softer emotions. A warrior had to remain hard… except with his bonded.
Baila’s eyes fluttered, expression softening ever so slightly. “Why are you here?”
This question he could answer in front of one and all. It would not be a secret. It would be shouted to the highest points of his planet. Zyriq Rukzahl, First Son of Morea, entered human territory and captured his bonded.
“In the tradition of Morea, I am kidnapping you.”
Chapter 6
Baila had gotten herself kidnapped.
In the “tradition of Morea,” no less.
What did that even mean? And why the hell did he want to kidnap her? Okay, they’d had fun times—see her pregnant belly as evidence—but she didn’t think that warranted hauling her off to parts unknown.
