The Healer's Kiss: Book Four of the Forced To Serve Series

by Donna McDonald

  “As much as I find your anger appeases my irritation that the lovely Boca is not meant for me, I have to ask you to set aside your possessive mate inclinations for the moment, Doctor. I wish to discuss the possibility of serving on your Medical team. Liam—I mean, Captain Synar—has given me permission to ask. To start my service, I could easily apply the tracking marks, even the dragons our adorable Earthling commander is secretly hoping to talk Lieutenant Zade into getting,” Malachi said, bowing his head to the still fuming Greggor male. “I didn’t mean to look at the images in Gwen’s head either, but she was so excited, I couldn’t resist.”

  “Sounds great. Having you in Medical will ensure I always know what the Helios you’re doing. I expect you to commit to no mind reading as a condition, and I assure you that I will come up with inventive tortures to incapacitate that beloved host body of yours if you don’t behave yourself under my command,” Chiang said.

  “Kinky and very appealing since it’s been a while since I was properly punished, as I am sure you are well trained in how to do. But I prefer females to make me suffer, so I must decline your offer of bodily torture,” Malachi said. “I assume behaving myself also includes stopping all attempts to seduce the delectable Sumerian you consider yours already.”

  “You start work for me tomorrow,” Chiang said roughly, ignoring the comment about Boca being his, choosing to glare his agreement instead. “Your stasis unit is arriving on the Paladin. If Captain Synar agrees, you can fly over with Zade to retrieve the unit, as well as our new Lieutenant. On your return, you can spend the required time setting it up. I’ll connect it to the Medical analysis system afterwards. We’ll do the testing as soon as it is functional.”

  “As you wish, Doctor,” Malachi said, bowing his head again. “Thank you for agreeing to my request. You will find me an obedient medic.”

  Not bothering to offer respect, Chiang turned abruptly and left, heading out of the conference room door to the nearest com port not in hearing distance. He wanted to know where Boca kept hiding and would enlist the entire Medical staff to help find her if needed, including the cursed demon who would no doubt enjoy the task.

  The angry Greggor slamming the conference room door made Malachi laugh again. He turned to see Liam and Ania standing, arms crossed, both glaring at him. He couldn’t fight the additional laughter welling up inside at their matching irritation over his argument with Chiang.

  Humor was an odd sensation in a corporeal body, Malachi decided. Normally, he only experienced such things at the mercy of his host’s senses. He was still getting used to feeling his own amusement again after so many years of not doing so. And Conor’s body wasn’t used to feeling mirth, so he was doubly challenged.

  “What are you two angry about now? Chiang the Greggor said yes to my offer,” he protested. “I will serve him well. I gave you both my word and swore by the Creators.”

  Malachi couldn’t help laughing more when both his keepers rolled their eyes.

  Chapter 2

  “How long do you think you can avoid him?” Dorian asked kindly, turning his back discreetly to the woman before dropping his pants. “The mating urge will make him very motivated. He will find you eventually, especially on a ship this size.”

  Dorian hung his clothes on nearby empty pegs and lifted his black robe from another, wrapping it around him as he chanted a prayer to cleanse himself from negativity. When he turned to face Boca, he fought the urge to smile at her gaze fixed determinedly on the ceiling of the meditation room.

  “Does my nudity offend you, Ensign Ador?” he asked. “That was not my intention. If you had come at your appointed time, I would have been already properly dressed for our session.”

  “A lack of clothing never bothers anyone trained as a medic, Lieutenant. Your male form is most pleasing. It is just that I am currently in a vulnerable state, and you are an alluring Siren. I appreciate your mate’s continued faith in training me,” Boca explained. “Also, I fear her agitation should she discover I have seen her mate nude without medical cause.”

  “My mate and I have had no discussions concerning my nudity. The only helpful advice I can offer is that your vulnerable state to other males can be easily fixed by claiming your own mate,” Dorian said, walking to where the diminutive female stood frowning at him now.

  He gazed down at her kindly, noting Boca Ador barely reached his shoulder in height. Like many others who had come into contact with her, Dorian was also concerned about Boca’s continued resistance to a connection that would make her stronger if she would only bond with the Greggor. If her will was not unbreakable in its intent when she returned to Lotharius, her body might not support her survival if captured again. Boca’s mind was far more vulnerable than any other part of her.

  “Sumerian females do not claim, Lieutenant. The males of my species do the claiming,” Boca explained tightly.

  “Don’t you think it’s time to set aside your self-deceit? Your spirit has chosen a male, and his energy calls to you. And Sumerian females can claim when they choose to do so,” Dorian informed her. “It was not so many millennia ago that this was done commonly. You were sired into one of the old families of your Sumerian lineage, which means you are quite capable of binding a mate to you. Your lack of honesty is a waste of our time together because you are too distracted by your rebellion to meditate.”

  “I’m sorry, Lieutenant. I have no wish to waste your time,” Boca said stiffly, hurt by his words.

  “Let us be honest then about this problem, because do not be mistaken, it is a very real problem for you. Your fear of giving up control to a mate is as great as your physical fear of the very large Greggor you are drawn to. If you cannot conquer these lesser challenges of your life, how can you prepare yourself to face a planet of males who would sexually enslave you again given any opportunity to do so?”

  “Do you really believe that bonding with Chiang would not be conceding to the same fate for me?” Boca demanded, lifting her chin. “You know how Sumerians are in mating. We are not that much unlike Sirens, but the difference is that I will be bound to him much more than he will ever be bound to me.”

  “Bonding is always a risk. Often mating is the largest one a being ever takes,” Dorian said. “The mental turmoil of feeling that much compassion rivals any other torment I have known.

  “Mating is enslavement, no matter the circumstances. I know you feel nothing when I look at your unclothed form. The Commander holds your full attention. Do you like being bound in all ways to her? What of your own free will? What of your other desires?” Boca demanded, feeling herself tremble in anger at her teacher’s lack of understanding.

  Dorian walked around the frightened Sumerian female, studying her projected energy. Boca was so angry after her exchange with Chiang in the conference room that she was shooting spikes out in every direction. Each one was a loss that could be better used to fuel her will to survive. In fact, the Sumerian female was so upset he could barely constrain her from disturbing the energy of his sacred space.

  “How interesting that you consider me enslaved to my mate. That’s an odd term to place on what is as much a spiritual connection for me as a physical one. Gwen Jet is my everything, an unexpected gift from the Creators of All. I have but to think of a need and she comes immediately to mind. I suppose some might call Siren devotion a form of enslavement, but I find it quite comforting to be bound to only her,” Dorian said. “And I find it a strength of our relationship to know the warrior in her would fight for me, as she has already proven.”

  “Yes, but you are a warrior yourself. You do not fear her attempts to rule you,” Boca said sharply, immediately wanting to bite out her tongue for showing disrespect to the male who was supposed to be a spiritual teacher for her.

  Dorian laughed. “Again I must point out you are trying too hard to deceive yourself. Of course I fear Gwen,” he said with a short laugh. “Have you not seen her angry? I am not spared from our Commander’s wrath just because I plea
se her in bed. Other males have done that before me and not been spared either—as you very well know.”

  Boca drew in a short breath of surprise, clamping down on her frustration, and the jealousy that was always a heartbeat away now since she shared the healing kiss with Chiang. The thought of him with another female was more than just physically painful. It also made her want to sharpen blades and use them on any female who dared approach him for bonding. Maybe sometimes she thought of Chiang as her property now. Fortunately, she had no problem pushing those ownership feelings away. But why was the Lieutenant bringing it up?

  “Why torture me with a reminder of Chiang’s past relationship with your mate?” Boca demanded.

  Dorian shrugged as he walked back to where he could turn and meet her glare face-on. “The Creators, in their wisdom, sent me someone to share my life who will never bow to my will without a fight to exert her own. She keeps me humble, which is an odd sensation for a fully trained Siren of Rylen, especially one from my mother’s house. Sarinnea’s line holds a preferred status in our society, and you could say I am well used to having my way with most creatures.”

  “Yet you have not bound your mate to you irrevocably,” Boca challenged. “Sirens are capable of bending a mate’s will.”

  “Given enough provocation, I could undoubtedly produce pheromones that would bend Gwen’s will to mine and perhaps prevent her from ever speaking harshly to me or anyone else again. I’m not even tempted to do so.”

  Dorian stopped, folded his hands in front of him as he heard Boca sigh.

  “I was not implying any insult to her character,” Boca said tightly.

  “No, of course not. I just wanted to share with you that though I possess a Siren’s ability to alter the responsive nature of my mate, I would never do so. To do anything less than honor her true nature would destroy the very appealing physical side of what we share, as well as dishonor our spiritual connection. It would be like saying ‘no, thank you’ to the Creators for the mate they chose for me,” Dorian said.

  “I do not see the point of our discussion concerning your mating. My arrangement with Chiang is of no importance to this mission. Or to you—no disrespect, Lieutenant. I am sure the Creators have much more important things to deal with as well.”

  “On the contrary, the Creators affect the minutiae of our personal lives for greater purposes. And I think your relationship to Chiang is vastly important to this mission, which is to save someone who has devoted her life to doing the Creators’ work.” Dorian Lifted his chin to mirror Boca’s expression back to her. “Surely your instincts are insisting that you must overcome your fear of Chiang to be successful—even if you are choosing to ignore those guiding forces consciously.”

  “Would you have me engage Chiang in physical battle to prove my warrior worth to him? Given the inequalities between us physically, I would be foolish to do so. Besides, this is simply not done on my planet. It would be considered impertinent of me to challenge a male that I have made even the smallest of mating commitments to,” Boca said, defending her actions. “Then there is also the concern that Chiang is my superior on the ship.”

  “The latter is just an excuse, Ensign. My mate remains my superior. The situation will not change until she chooses to amend it. So far, her greater rank on the ship has not been an issue in our personal connection,” Dorian said lightly. “Perhaps it is helpful that we are both learning to concede control to each other during our private times together.”

  “Does she routinely give you reasons to fear her, and do so on purpose?” Boca demanded.

  Dorian bit the inside of his jaw to keep from laughing. Gwen filled him with agitation as often as she filled him with lust. It was not fear she generated, but their natural friction created strong emotions that he had to constrain at times. “I prefer to think of what I feel as frustration rather than fear.”

  “Well, I feel both for Chiang the Greggor,” Boca declared. “And he does nothing to lessen either.”

  “Ensign Ador, your spiritual life will not grow from hiding out in my meditation room paralyzed by inaction. You should be asking yourself why the non-committal Greggor is trying so hard to bind himself to you. Why would the Creators move him to mate you when it is well known Chiang has made a habit of avoiding all other such commitments? His current celibacy is a trial to his nature, and yet he persists in it for fear you will reject him if he seeks relief from other females. Now I am not saying his ease is your responsibility—” Dorian stopped, laughed, and reconsidered. “Well, actually I am saying it’s your responsibility. You can ease each other without a full mating. Sirens are not the only ones who can do this. But you must learn to think more clearly about your situation to see the truth in it.”

  “Chiang will not stop at partial bonding,” Boca choked out. “I have sensed it. I cannot take the risk of permanently binding myself to another controlling male. You might as well give the controller back to my Lotharian owner as ask me to even partially mate with Chiang.”

  “The Greggor will not control you if you don’t let him,” Dorian said easily. “No male can unless you go along with it.”

  Boca pulled herself up until she was stiff as a board. “What do you suggest I do then?”

  “Come to an agreement between you and insist he honor it,” Dorian advised. “Then end his celibacy and yours. Give yourselves some physical peace at least. But I warn you that if you are true mates, vibrational sharing will only soothe a short while. You will both need the full physical connection to find a real release from your constant torment.”

  “What if I cannot bring myself to bond with him at all?” Boca asked. “I neither want to nor feel it to be critical.”

  “Then I believe you will fail on this mission. Ensign Karr is not experienced enough to handle himself among Lotharian males who view females as objects they own. Chiang has worn the Xendrin collar. He knows what it is like to be on both sides,” Dorian reminded her.

  “How can I trust him, Lieutenant?” Boca said. “Males say whatever is needed to get what they want. No male has treated me differently.”

  “If you cannot face the Greggor’s affectionate ownership bravely, you will not succeed in facing the Lotharians more sinister ownership again. Fear of conceding to Chiang is merely a mirror of your fear of being an unwilling captive again. And I suspect your fear of Chiang is a reflection of your previous mating as well,” Dorian said. “I don’t think Lotharius was the first time you were treated as a sexual slave. What say you to that charge, Ensign?”

  “My Sumerian mate exercised his rights. My concession was his due. However, I concede Chiang is not Rogan,” Boca denied. “This I have seen. He is much more considerate in bonding.”

  “Well, at least you have one good thing to say about him. The Greggor fairly sings your praises to whoever will listen. He even bargained with the demon to stop trying to seduce you,” Dorian said.

  “I cannot be seduced. Malachi jests with him,” Boca said, unconcerned about the demon’s interest in her.

  “You left the meeting in too much of a hurry and missed the big news. Malachi has taken a job under Chiang as a medic,” Dorian said, turning away to keep from laughing as she gasped in shock.

  “Why would the captain agree to such an arrangement? The demon cannot be trusted,” Boca declared.

  Dorian turned back to her. “Perhaps that is true, but Synar has already sanctioned it. Tomorrow Malachi travels alone with me to the Paladin. It is a test for Malachi I think.”

  “Slaggika,” Boca declared.

  “I agree with your sentiment about the demon, but swearing in Rylen would just be redundant,” Dorian said, allowing himself a moment of sarcasm. “I think we’re done for the day, Ensign. Go settle your personal affairs with the Greggor and then come back to meditation tomorrow. Clear your energy—or don’t return.”

  ***

  Later that day, Boca bit back the groan as she climbed to her feet. She tried not to weave as she stood, but in the
end could not stop herself. Having lost count of the number of times her fellow ensigns had thrown her to the floor, now she could only acknowledge the pain in all parts of her body.

  “Enough,” Gwen called, stopping the next attack before Ensign Karr went after Boca again. “That’s all for today. Boca, stay. The rest of you—go.”

  Her male sparring partners bowed their heads to their commander and then left. Boca remained where she was, afraid to move for fear she’d fall on her face at Commander Jet’s feet.

  “Boca, this isn’t going to work,” Gwen said. “I’m going to talk to Synar about another alternative. You’re not coming along fast enough. It’s been three days, and you haven’t gained any ground. The ensigns still overpower you each time.”

  “Bring them back. I can handle another hour of fighting,” Boca said.

  Gwen shook her head. “No, you can’t. I admire your perseverance. It shows you’re a natural survivor. This isn’t about your physical strength giving out, even though I know damn well you’re ready to collapse. Stop trying to fool me because it isn’t happening. This is not about acting like a warrior, but rather about truly being one.”

  “What must I do then?” Boca demanded. “Give me a task to improve myself. I intend to go to Lotharius. I am capable.”

  “What would happen if Chiang walked in here right now and yelled at you?” Gwen demanded.

  Boca’s gaze went immediately to the door. When she moved it back to Gwen, the female was shaking her head.

  “That reaction is exactly what I mean. There are all kinds of fear,” Gwen told her. “And we both know just how bad it hurts to be strapped to the wiring table while they poke wires through you and listen to your screams of pain.”

  Boca nodded and looked away.

  Gwen hardened her resolve at her urge to immediately offer sympathy. That wasn’t what was needed. She was supposed to be training Boca to fight, not fixing her fear of being captured again.