She watched him warily, like a wild leicat, those animals now few and far between on his planet. His people’s efforts at conservation had been too late for many of their native species, though they had a better track record than some other worlds. Like his little warrior’s Home World. Vayne set his jaw at the thoughts of the things he’d witnessed there. Barbarians, and obviously as capable of genocide as the Juxtant. Certainly more effective in delivering it.
Her breathing was measured and she appeared in complete control, and Vayne again wondered who she was, then became determined to find out. Before she became his and her past was obscured and lost, as was necessary. No one would find her and it would be as if she never existed elsewhere.
“I have food and drink. Will you tell me your name?”
“Do I get fed if I refuse?”
“Of course. I have no interest in harming you. I merely thought you might want to hold on to some of yourself. Share your name and I will not assign you another.”
With a short intake of breath, she stared at him, those interesting eyes sharp and shimmering with intelligence. “Explain.”
“You are mine, little warrior. For eternity. How you accept that will be your choice, but I never lose, and in this I cannot afford to lose. You will come to understand.”
“So you’ve said. Maybe try and explain now.”
He hesitated, then put most of the information out there for her. Perhaps if she understood what the Shadalla were facing… “We are in dire need of childbearing mates. The majority of our women are sterile because of your Home World’s genetic weapons. And many died from the resulting infections until our scientists could determine the cause. By then it was too late. We males outnumber our females by thousands to one and we are not a proliferate species.”
“What?” Shock and disbelief were embodied in that one word.
“Which part shocks you, little one? What part don’t you believe? We are uncomfortable allies, your kind and mine, and most recently only because of our desire to unite to battle the Juxtant. But before that, your people’s insidious weapon was somehow carried home from the war and infiltrated our world. We had no awareness of it until perhaps a decade ago and even then could barely attribute it to the ones who rule your planet. We thought them better than the Juxtant.” Until he’d come into the information about collusion, something that never left his mind.
“I’m not shocked about the genetic weapon. I believe you,” she said, her tone so bitter and dark it took him aback. “The Home World is ruled by greedy cowards.”
Her obvious hatred of her own leaders might help his case, and Vayne made a mental note. He then considered it was his assertion that he’d taken her to be his lifemate that caused such shock. Unfortunate, but not surprising. He thought she might say more, then realized she once again retreated into her own thoughts. That would never do when they were joined, and he added it to the mental list of things he must teach her.
Combining a few pieces of fruit and cheese on a plate, then adding dried meat and bread, he carried it over and set it on the small table beside the bunk, watching the entire time for any indication she might use her feet against him. Returning to take a chair and dole out food for himself, he studied her.
“You believe me, and aren’t shocked because you served those same authorities?” he suggested.
Her face immediately tightened and her eyes became more remote. She didn’t answer, so he continued. “We don’t choose to die out as a race, so we’ve found another way.”
“You kidnap Home World women and breed them.” The bald statement fell between them. So much for avoidance.
“Not quite so…cold. Or callous.”
“Really.” She shifted on his bunk, ignoring the food. “What would you call it? Although I can understand the need for revenge, considering how heinous their act.”
“It’s not revenge. I do allow it might be viewed as such by women like yourself.” He paused at her snort.
“You’ve never kidnapped anyone like me, mister.”
“I know that to be true, and I consider myself blessed, little warrior.” His voice thrummed with the depth of his emotion.
“What? Why?” There was agitation evident in her voice, and he wondered at it. Could it be she was unmanned by a hint of kindness? Of appreciation?
“I saw how you fought, and I see your intelligence. You are perfect for me. Perfect to carry on my line.” If she tested capable of conceiving, he reminded himself, and decided not to share that thought with her. In fact, the very idea of her being infertile made his belly clench. Surely the gods wouldn’t be so cruel. But he would have her regardless, as his bride, and find a surrogate to provide his children.
“Not interested.”
The flat refusal to accept his edict, with no explanation, no additional protest, irked him. He grabbed at a straw. Perhaps she indeed had a mate on the Home World…and children. Her grief was palpable, if contained, and while he wouldn’t return her, perhaps something could be done about the offspring. “Are you married? Do you have children?”
She gave another quick bark of laughter, the harsh sound nearly passing for humor. “No. And no. Not in the cards. Ever.”
Ignoring her outburst, he said, “Then I’m relieved you won’t be mourning them. It would have made things more difficult, if not insurmountable.”
She narrowed her eyes and stared. Despite himself, the fine hair on the back of his neck prickled and he wondered how many men she had faced down with that look. “So it wouldn’t have made a difference, then.”
“No. Regrettably, no. I would have made it a priority to locate your children and bring them to you. But the Shadalla are desperate and in the need of lifemates.”
“Well, I’m not yours.”
He was tired of explaining himself and stating the obvious. “As you noted earlier, you and your fellow female travelers have no choice.”
“How many others?”
He found himself answering without thought. “Twelve.” This woman was already affecting his ability to dissemble. Truly this was ordained.
“Are they all right? Was anyone hurt?” She tugged against the cuff, obviously agitated.
“Your concern is noteworthy, little one. They are fine. Being fed and cared for. And there will be no breeding. Yet.” He couldn’t help himself from describing it that way, still smarting from her rejection, while he knew that to be ludicrous, considering he had kidnapped her for that very purpose. It would take time—and persuasion—to help her view things differently. And he needed to manage his male ego better.
Her glare was answer enough.
“Eat something,” he urged. This was the last time during the holding period when she would eat by her own hand.
Her tethers were long enough to easily reach the table and she picked at the food, avoiding his gaze. He turned his attention to his own repast, consuming it quickly before pouring them both some valki. He set the glass beside her plate, noting that she didn’t even spare him a glance. But she didn’t use her feet against him, either.
She sat back and regarded him after drinking most of the ale but leaving a good portion of the meal. “So, what now?”
“I won’t force you, if that is what you fear.”
“I don’t fear much of anything,” she said flatly.
He believed she thought it to be true, seeing that remote look descend upon her face yet again. If she couldn’t resist physically, she’d withdraw emotionally—he knew all too well how that worked. But she hadn’t met anyone like him before, and he was already producing pheromones in great quantity. “I’ll release you so you can use the facilities, shower if you like. But the outer door is secure and coded. Should you manage to incapacitate me, you’ll not leave these quarters.”
“And you might never leave them.” A flat assertion.
Vayne laughed, although he recognized the truth in her statement. “Then neither would you. My men would be forced to dispatch the woman who killed thei
r sovereign, as much as I’d regret it.”
“And then kill the rest of the hostages.”
“No, little warrior. That’s not how this works. They are innocents. They will be taken care of, placed with men who will cherish them.”
She studied him, her golden eyes darkening with some emotion he couldn’t interpret. “And bear them mini Shadallas.” She raised one slim shoulder. “I’ll behave, but only because I require the facilities. Unless you break your promise.”
“Never.” He wouldn’t need to force her. She would come to him and beg for his cock. Not that he would humiliate her when she did so.
He released the cuffs, and time stretched out between them as their proximity heightened the tension. He scented her, a faint, spicy bouquet overlaid with the clean sweat of her exertions outside that lift and it wove the connection deeper. He could only imagine what touching her would do. His desire for her surged higher at the memory of the way she’d dealt with two enormous villains. She would probably have taken down the captain as well if not for being blackmailed into surrendering. Vayne again reminded himself who he held captive in his quarters. It wouldn’t do for his men to find him dispatched.
Stepping back, he motioned to the cleansing area. His bride slipped from the bunk and gracefully passed out of his line of sight. He gathered the remains of their meal onto the tray and set it on a table in the corner before retrieving both cuffs and setting them down for easy access. Then he stripped out of the restricting uniform, releasing his sorely confined cock and blowing out his breath with huge relief. It had been a day for sighing, and he wasn’t familiar with the emotion that produced a sigh. For a moment, the memory of Asula etched itself on his forebrain before essentially dissolving and being replaced with that of his little warrior. Vayne didn’t know if that was an omen but thought he would take it as such. His deceased wife never had power or importance in his life, regrettably, and now was not the time to spend any thinking of her.
The shower hissed on, and he hustled into the bathing area, snatching up the black clothing and a scrap of fabric he recognized as an undergarment. Dropping them into the cleansing unit, he then relieved himself with some difficulty because of his erection and donned a soft garment to cover his lower body. He watched his lifemate step from the shower chamber.
She was all ivory skin and shadowed hollows, her body as honed as those on his planet who excelled in performance sports. Small, firm breasts sat high on her torso, tipped with tight red buds, and her feminine cleft nestled between long, slender thighs. Tiny droplets of recycled water highlighted every dip and curve. Vayne bit back a groan as his beast begged him to take her, dominate and make her his own.
“Where are my clothes?” Standing without any attempt to cover herself, secure in her own skin, his female stared at him.
“You won’t require any in my quarters.”
“Bullshit.”
“Ah, little one. Your turn of phrase amuses me, though it could become wearing.”
Staring at the front of his underpiece, she quirked a brow, not acknowledging his gentle threat. His cock filling again, Vayne struggled with the urge to correct her but gave in to the greater need to laugh. He hadn’t been amused in a long time. She appeared startled when he chuckled.
“Go to bed, my warrior.”
“Clothes.”
“Not necessary. And I already gave you my word.”
After another assessing stare, she eased past him. For an instant his eyes closed when pure, raw need overtook him. Almost immediately aware of how vulnerable his lack of sight made him, he blinked wide and looked to see her reach the bunk. She sank down on the edge, and he saw her exhaustion as her shoulders slumped forward, her profile dipping in concert. And he believed it wasn’t only from the day’s events but from something far deeper and far reaching, like her concealed grief. A startling need to protect her coursed through his veins and he approached the bed.
“Move to the far side, lie back and raise your hands. I’m going to cuff you and shorten the tethers. I need to rest, and I don’t trust you as yet.”
“So sleep elsewhere. I prefer not to be tied up.”
“This is my cabin, little warrior. And we will share quarters from here on in. Move over and raise your hands.”
She obeyed him, clearly having weighed the alternatives, but her anger simmered, tangible and cloying. He restrained her wrists and hooked a length of silken rope to one of the bolts, leaving enough slack for her to roll over and also partially lower her arms to allow blood flow, but not enough to allow her to cause him bodily harm while he slept. He didn’t care to be garroted. How he’d actually sleep was anyone’s guess, when his balls ached as though he hadn’t emptied them for gordis.
She was so lovely, with her round breasts lifted as if for his touch, the long line of her waist and slight swell of her hips drawing him in. The thin strip of dark curls on her mound was in direct contrast to the smoothness of her labia, and he longed to open her there and trace her inner petals, search out her nub of pleasure and find her opening. He yearned to fuck her and wondered how he’d ever restrain himself until the holding period was over. His beast paced within. For the first time, Vayne cursed his culture but allowed it was steeped not only in tradition but in solid common sense. The Shadalla had kidnapped females in the distant past, and the rules put in place then held considerable practicality today. It was why they’d turned to them again—with human females.
“Are you comfortable?”
“Fine.” She bit off the word and looked away.
“Slide farther over, my little warrior.”
With a huff, she did as he instructed, nearly to the wall, breasts bobbling enticingly. She then turned onto her side, giving him the length of her back. His own breath caught as he viewed what he’d missed earlier—the scarring of her skin, thin welts placed precisely, one beneath the other, from her shoulders to the small of her back. Squinting, he could see fainter marks on the fullness of her buttocks and upper thighs. Clearly, the additional tissue there had healed more easily than the thinner skin of her back. She had been whipped countless times, and perhaps her flesh hadn’t healed between the assaults, the ridged lines as exact as if drawn by a straight edge. The fine line of skin between each of them was a mockery of what had likely been as beautiful as the front of her.
Vayne wrestled with such a surge of rage his temples pounded and the breath stuttered in his chest. He opened his mouth to ask her what happened, then shut it tightly. The markings may well have been consensual. Many cultures practiced such things, humans among them. There was much to learn about his intended.
She rolled her head slightly and caught him staring, perhaps had felt the heat of his gaze. “I told you I recognized perverts. Your Lordship.”
He reared back and sought the words, any words, for she’d confirmed his darkest thoughts. He reached out and touched his fingertips to her back, tracing the welts, feeling the silken skin between the scars ripple as she shuddered away. Perhaps he was wrong, and he had to know. “Did you ask for this? Want this?” It was better than the alternative.
“Fuck you, Sovereign. You get no more from me.”
She looked toward the wall as he brought his reaction under control. There would be time tomorrow to address her withholding. The process of integration had already begun. He could feel it, unable to think of anyone but her, the empty place in him eagerly preparing to be filled and completed. He climbed into the bunk beside her, aware of its width, or lack of it, and relished the closeness. She wouldn’t be able to hide from him for long.
“Sleep well, my little warrior. We have much to discuss and explore on the morrow.”
He instructed the computer to dim the lights and darkness crept over the room.
“My name is Neira. Don’t call me little one, little warrior, or anything else. I don’t like it and you’re not entitled.”
Smiling into the dark, he shifted and fit against the back of Neira’s body, ignoring how she
immediately tensed. Neira. He tasted it. Neira. But she’d always be his little warrior, and perhaps one day she would come to ask him to call her as such.
In time she relaxed, incrementally, and when he was satisfied she was asleep, Vayne allowed himself to slip into slumber.
Chapter Three
Neira came awake like the soldier she’d been—sleep to total awareness. She woke from a dead sleep, though, not from that curious near-wakeful state she shared with most of her comrades-in-arms both on and off the fields of battle. So that meant her subconscious had reason to believe she’d fallen asleep in a place of safety.
But that didn’t fit with the fact her hands were tethered, or with the immediate surge of memory relaying the events of the following day. It certainly didn’t fit with the presence of a large, heated body spooning her, a very definite poke of a solid erection in the small of her back. She was in her captor’s bed, without even the slight barrier or protection of night clothes. She thought he’d worn some kind of undergarment…
“You are awake.” A face nuzzled her hair and a mouth pressed a kiss on her temple.
Neira flirted with the thought of flipping over and setting her teeth in the flesh of that handsome face while bringing her knee up into that hard appendage. Instead, she inched away from his attentions, continuing to give him her back. If she thought she might manage to get his print on the release of her cuffs, she’d have tried it, but the sovereign was a big bugger, and he moved well. The scar on his chest wasn’t from some weird rite of passage, but from a knife with a big, serrated blade. She well knew the pattern of injury, having seen a fair number over the years. That meant Vayne Palldyn was also a warrior, not that she hadn’t heard the stories of his military prowess. It was unlikely she’d get the drop on him.
He’d somehow missed her dagger in the commotion, and she’d secreted it in the wash facility upon working it free from under her tunic. She hoped there’d be an opportunity to use it and gain her freedom and refused to listen to the practical voice in her head that asked how she thought she might accomplish that task. She had planned to retrieve it after her cleansing, take it to the bed to hide it there and protect herself but was foiled by Palldyn’s presence in the room. And it turned out she hadn’t needed it after all. He’d kept his promise, although the feel of his hard body had been an unsettling experience. Yet she’d still fallen asleep…
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