Vanquished

by Allyson Young

  “Then get on it. We have but a short period of time.”

  “Of course.” Stenlor took the tablet back and hustled away. Vayne stared after him and weighed his approach with Neira. But first he needed to speak with his executive officer. The sovereign never went into war without every scrap of intelligence he could gather, and this was a battle he intended to win.

  “Vayne?” He whirled to see Neira, wrapped in bed linens, standing in the doorway. He hadn’t heard her move, hadn’t detected her and surely that was a good portent—he had no requirement to protect himself against her any longer. With the exception of his hearts and soul, and it was far too late for that.

  He moved toward her and she shuffled into their quarters. “Sovereign’s duty again, my little warrior. I’ll be back as soon as I am able.” He risked dropping a kiss on her forehead, mightily pleased when she didn’t flinch away and even leaned into him.

  Stepping back before he gathered her up and took her back to bed to show her what he’d just learned, and what he hoped to confirm, he exited the cabin, the door sighing shut in her surprised face.

  Chapter Eight

  Neira frowned, feeling her eyes squint and her jaw drop when Vayne vanished from sight. The damned alien kept doing that. Her emotions were a jumbled, hot mess in direct contrast to how chilled she was yet again. Damn the man and his lofty ideals. While she’d accepted it wouldn’t be a quick tumble with him, she’d actually hoped he’d compromise his long-range plan and lay with her, maybe a few times. Now where the hell had that quaint term come from? She was no blushing maiden from those ancient tales and he was most certainly not a knight of old. No, only a sovereign. She stomped to the cleansing room, allowing her makeshift robe to drop to the floor before she entered the shower stall. It was easier to feel frustrated and unsatisfied than to dwell on that statement he’d made. The one that both made her heart swell and broke it at the same time. You are my chosen. I’ll protect and defend you to the death.

  Wrenching on the knobs, she stood under the fine, heated spray and reached for the soap. As she washed the signs of her arousal away, she brooded. Damn freaking pheromones. He had such an unfair advantage. Not to mention the far more important peace of mind he’d somehow imparted. But she couldn’t give herself to him fully. It went against everything she was, now that her soul was healed. By him. Argh.

  Punching the unforgiving wall of the shower didn’t do anything other than make her knuckles swell and she surveyed them glumly, flexing her fingers and noting the faint marks around her wrist. She froze and cautiously turned her head, reaching to turn off the cleansing unit, listening hard. Nothing. But Vayne moved silently, so he could be out there. Or someone else could.

  She chose a towel and wrapped the fabric around her, the moisture in her short hair dripping onto her shoulders as she crept to the doorway and surveyed the cabin. Empty. Her breath soughed out of her with an audible whoosh and she smiled faintly at her paranoia. He hadn’t secured her before leaving and what might that mean? Crossing to the chest where he stored the clothing, she lifted the lid and spied the clothing she’d donned on the Astris that day of being boarded by the pirates. Even her briefs were there, and she grabbed her outfit and pulled it on. The leggings were slightly tight across her ass and she scowled. All that food of late by his hand and limited exercise had caused her to gain weight despite the angst she’d experienced—or maybe because of it—and her joints wouldn’t tolerate the extra pounds. A soldier took care of her body or paid the price in the field. You aren’t in the field, Neira. Right, and now she was talking to herself, if not out loud. She’d never been troubled by this kind of soul searching before and no doubt that was Vayne’s influence as well. She might not be a soldier ever again, but there was always a call for mercenaries and defenders.

  The polished mirror reflected a tall, straight and slender form with spiky black hair. Her skin had a quality it hadn’t shown for some time, clear and glowing. She was the picture of health, and her eyes regarded her solemnly. Neira placed her hand against the cool surface and nodded to the woman in the mirror who reached back, pretending there wasn’t a crippling ache in the middle of her chest. She could, and would, do this. She’d convinced the sovereign of her refusal to become part of him, to complete him and lose herself. It had been apparent in the resignation written across his handsome face and simmering in his amazing eyes. Even the proud stance had been affected, and while it bothered her, she’d do what was right. He’d find another chosen once this nonsense with the Outriders was dealt with and all of the Home World made aware of the perfidy of those monsters.

  Humans no longer tolerated such heinous crimes, at least in the short term. History would no doubt fade and greed and need would prevail again, but there would be any number of women willing to immigrate to Nibiru if that planet opened its borders. Neira, although she had no talent for public speaking outside of rallying her troops, would lend her voice to it. She’d help turn what could be regarded as a vulnerability into an opportunity. And if the idea tasted sour to her, it wouldn’t to others. Vayne deserved the opportunity too.

  She examined the display panel closely, having made the bunk, tidied the cabin and the cleansing area and explored the contents of the chest and the various drawers situated around the cabin. Locating her palka and dagger had felt like meeting old friends, but she left them tucked away. And she tried not to think about some of the things she’d found. Shadalla sex toys, similar to the ones she’d seen on the Home World, in different colors and materials, filled two drawers. She’d forced herself to run a finger over them, feeling them as inanimate objects, crushing the fantasies they created, and slowly her libido had returned to normal. This was just another reason for her to stand firm against him. He made her crazy with lust by merely looking at her and being so unconcernedly naked in her presence. If he were to use other things to wreak his sexual magic, there was no telling what he would expect from his chosen when that woman completed him, for how could a mindless sex slave give informed consent? Her decision bolstered, Neira had shut the drawer and put it out of her mind.

  The display screen could open up a wealth of possibilities if only she could access it but of course it required a designated thumb or palm print. The sovereign had recently programmed it to allow her to control the lighting and apparently the heat levels, so it was pleasantly toasty now. She really needed total access. But even if she could overcome Vayne how would she get his hand up this high? She laughed out loud. Getting the drop on him was no longer part of her agenda—trapped, in space, remember? But she itched to contribute to the upcoming confrontation, contribute her military skills now that the issue of lifemates and bonding was off the table, and wished he’d come back so they could have a discussion. She absolutely wasn’t wondering how he might employ that curiously shaped…what the fuck was wrong with her?

  The door sighed open and the subject of her thoughts sauntered in, causing her heart to pound. Unbidden, her eyes ate him up from the top of his thick hair to the sizable feet, and she convinced herself she hadn’t lingered on any parts in between. Vayne paused and scrutinized her in the same manner and with a great effort Neira kept her feet glued to the floor. Her leggings were soaked despite her briefs and it was all his fault.

  “I leave you untethered and to your own devices and you promptly disobey me,” he observed, a wry note in his voice. “Clothed and prowling my quarters.”

  “Did you really expect me to be waiting, naked in your bed?” Good grief. Was she flirting with the man? Her tone hadn’t been sarcastic or even challenging. Neira had no idea how to flirt. She’d been more of a get-down-and-dirty kind of girl because it had been more about satisfying a physical need than about romance. Never about romance. And neither was this. This was seduction by alien species and something she’d obviously had no control over. Thank goodness it had been put to bed. No pun intended.

  “I’d hoped to find you there.” She watched him advance the short distance to stop so cl
ose she could feel his warmth. Could he smell her desperate need?

  “I was cold.” Not entirely true, seeing as she’d called for that temperature increase. The shower had warmed her and wearing clothes helped. Not to mention her rabid fantasies.

  Vayne obviously saw through her subterfuge, seeing as his quarters were plenty warm, but he played along. “I regret that. I keep the cabin cooler because we Shadalla aren’t as sensitive to temperature, and I neglected to raise the heat when I left earlier. But I do prefer you naked.”

  She preferred him naked too but this giddiness had to stop. Where was her earlier resolve from not even an hour ago? Right out the proverbial window with her inability to contain her arousal. “I’d like to discuss what’s going to unfold with the Outriders. I hope I can contribute.”

  The frown that marred his pleasant countenance told her he didn’t want to entertain that idea, and he confirmed it. “You won’t be any part of it.”

  “I can help,” she argued, reaching for that part of her that gave her control.

  “Neira. Little warrior.” Wry humor and frustration warred in his tone. “I don’t want the Home World to have further reason to harm you. I would prefer they not have a confirmation you are on the Tomodr.”

  “They might not have that in mind. Harming me.” Sure. Like it wouldn’t be the easiest answer. Wipe her out of existence and if it meant taking out a sovereign what did it matter to people who still controlled the military for their own ends? They might even see it as evening the odds. Except Vayne had Ambassador Rush, and Annis was no longer a threat, so her idea of exposing their actions and educating the people back home seemed obvious. She told him of her musings.

  “I like the latter part,” he agreed. “You can be most persuasive, and the idea of Home World women willingly offering to mate with Shadalla is ideal. But even if we can negotiate with the Home World, Baraith is still at large and you could be at risk.”

  “Why? It’s not like I determine the outcome of what you intend for him.” Unless she got to the biggest monster first by some twist of fate. That idea vastly appealed, because she wouldn’t be a weak, unarmed victim, weighted down by her memories.

  “You are my chosen and Baraith would take great enjoyment in dispatching you.” Something terrible flashed in the depths of Vayne’s eyes and she tried to interpret it.

  “He’d do that? To deny you a longer life?”

  She didn’t see him move, yet she was pinned helplessly against the bulkhead, up on her toes and nearly unable to take a breath. “To destroy me, Neira,” he grated, those turquoise eyes boring into her own, full of lust, heat and pain. “I might not fade, but life would hardly be worth living.”

  He kept pledging himself and she desperately wanted to acquiesce, so she thought instead of the contents of that drawer and how she wanted to hang on to her identity.

  As if collecting himself and getting his emotions under control he set her on her feet and smoothed his hands down her arms, muttering an apology. He stepped back and an unconvincing smile curved his lips. “Might we talk about something else?”

  “O…kay.” Neira slipped past him and perched on the edge of the bunk, leaving him the option of the chair. Déjà vu.

  “I just spent time with Leric and Victoria. After Stenlor stopped by—the medic who treated you.”

  Right, the other guy who had witnessed her breakdown. She nodded, wondering what Victoria and Vayne’s exec had to do with anything.

  “Stenlor conducted some tests on your blood.” At her stiffening, Vayne raised his hand in a request for silence, not unlike the ones her former superiors had made and Neira subsided. “He took a sample while administering medication when you experienced the dissociative fugue.”

  “I suppose being a captive precludes any refusal I might have made,” she muttered, her arousal now a simmering memory. It was good to be reminded of her circumstances and how she came here, kind of like a cold bucket of water thrown in her face.

  “I was certainly operating within that purview. Then.”

  She snapped her attention to him. Vayne sounded extremely apologetic and remorseful. “Excuse me?”

  “I can’t say I’m not pleased that he did so, even if my reasons were perhaps something you won’t appreciate. I wanted to know if you could conceive, although I’d already decided I couldn’t give you up.”

  “And can I?” She felt both bitter and curious, and decided to ignore the latter part of his statement for fear she’d curl up in a ball at his feet.

  “We are a near-perfect match.”

  So there would be someone out there who’d be a perfect match. That helped to diminish her ridiculous urge to connect with him. Well, no bother. She’d made her decision, after all. Neira pressed her fist against her diaphragm but managed not to double over at the thought of him with that someone else.

  “Neira?” Vayne knelt at her feet and peered up into her face. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. Just a cramp or something.” She took her hand away and leaned back, and Vayne, after a long look, returned to the chair.

  “Not only are we a match, you are impervious to my bonding pheromones, or at least able to resist them,” he continued.

  That nugget of information dropped into the swirling morass of her thoughts and she fumbled for it, knowing its portent. Vayne waited, patient as a big cat but also wary.

  “So my attraction to you isn’t because of pheromones?”

  “No. Not the bonding pheromones but we definitely have other…chemistry.”

  The pain in her chest loosened a trifle. “Why did you go and see Victoria? And Leric?”

  “To test a theory with a limited sample. I also inquired of Eltrast and Jurlek.” Vayne hesitated and she could see him choose his words. “I’ve asked Stenlor to consider other Shadalla-human pairings, but that kind of information is best obtained face-to-face. Our traditions run deep, and because of the dearth of females it stands to reason the males who were graced by a chosen might not be forthcoming without absolute, credible reassurances. That there would be no interference.”

  “You’re talking like a politician.” Her heart hitched up a beat, knowing there was something life-changing on its way.

  “I am a politician, Neira. Part of the burden of being sovereign.”

  “Fine, but can you just tell me?” She wanted to pace away from him or stick her fingers in her ears nearly as much as she wanted to hear him out. Her throat was dry and she felt a fine dew of sweat break out at her temples.

  “It is entirely possible that bonding between our species lack some of the nuances Shadalla matings have. While the brain reaction is definitely there and our males recognize their chosen, thus pursue and seduce them with considerable…verve, the length of the process varies with each woman. To be expected, perhaps, given that we are compatible but not of the same species, so no one remarked on it. But that could infer the terms of the completion is different. So I inquired of Leric.”

  The vision of a besotted Vicky—a languid bundle of need caught up in the executive officer’s arms—slipped across Neira’s mind.

  Vayne passed one big hand over his face, the palm rasping against the stubble on his chin. “While he doesn’t have anything other than the words and stories of others who found their Shadalla lifemates long ago, he confirmed that there is a definite distinction between him and Victoria.” He laughed. “It took my position and our friendship to wrest that from him, incidentally. Your fellow passenger might not have completely lost herself to Leric, but he would do anything to keep her. Including defying me. Lying by omission, a definite crime.”

  “Victoria fell in love with Leric? Without the other implications and influence?” Neira couldn’t keep the doubt from her voice.

  “It would appear so. I suppose the sex had something to do with it, as well.”

  Her gaze flew to his. “You’re teasing me. You wouldn’t have sex with me without consent to…more.”

  Silence stretched out
as he continued to watch her, and she tried to hold on to her equilibrium as the last of the barriers melted away. There was no need for him to answer. The attraction she did her best to deny, to attribute to those pheromones, flowered and consumed her once again and this time she made no effort to control it. Chemistry without those other implications. Her breathing changed, louder in the space, at least to her ears, and she catalogued the way her body responded without the iron control of her mind. It was definitely lust and desire but upon learning it wasn’t purely the result of advanced genetics she could admit to it being more. Wanting more.

  Taking a deep breath, she spoke. “You ask a great deal of me.”

  “No more than I am willing to give.”

  She believed him, and what was more, now trusted him. And she knew he saw it too.

  “Come here, little warrior.”

  ****

  Rising with the innate grace of the leicat, Neira moved to stand before him. Vayne never took his eyes from hers as he reached out to place a hand at her waist, just above the curve of her hip, splaying his fingers across the swell of her buttock. His touch resonated through the both of them, despite the layer of material, manifesting as a faint shiver in Neira and as a subtle shock wave up his arm. He closed his eyes the better to savor it, so secure in the belief she wouldn’t take action against him in his vulnerability. Their connection had deepened and would flourish, and the perfection of that belief soothed every part of his soul.

  Blinking open, he pulled his hand away and leaned back. “Remove your clothing.”

  Without hesitation his chosen swept the tunic over her head to bare her swelling breasts, the red nipples already beading with anticipation and her passion. She shoved the pants down, tiny briefs pulled along with the heavier fabric, and she stepped out, kicking the bundle away. He could scent her renewed arousal, her cleft slick and plump, and a growl escaped him.

  Unbidden, she sank to her knees and he spread his own to allow her access. Neira shuffled forward, fitting her body close and Vayne granted her unspoken wish, those tawny eyes telegraphing her intent. He was painfully ready and despite the disconcerting amount of information he’d been showered with, he wasn’t stopping to consider anything else. His female was in need of him and he, of her.