Bound Among the Stars

Jennifer Leeland and Mima

Published 2010

ISBN 978-1-59578-781-1

Published by Liquid Silver Books, imprint of Atlantic Bridge Publishing, 10509

Sedgegrass Dr, Indianapolis, Indiana 46235. Copyright © 2010, Jennifer Leeland and
Mima. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a
retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical,
recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author.

Manufactured in the United States of America

Liquid Silver Books

http://LSbooks.com

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Editor

Terri Schaefer

Cover Artist

April Martinez

This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues in this book are of

the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual
events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.

Blurbs

In the future, a man’s name is still the key to freedom and a beast can still be set free

by love.

Some things never change. Fairy tales reach forward into the stars with this duo of

heroes trapped in desperate circumstances. Incredible sex isn’t a magical answer, and
there aren’t any magic wands. It’s up to a brave princess and a sweet baker to discover
happy endings must be earned.

Commanded to Mate by Jennifer Leeland

The proud lovely colonist is bound to marry an alien beast.
Terrified Sierra Pasquel agrees to an arranged marriage to the monstrous Dormrelian

ambassador. To save her family and her colony, she’ll do whatever it takes, including a
four-eyed, four-armed beast of an alien.

Terek Majii is the holder of a centuries-old secret cursing his race. His people are on

the edge of extinction and Sierra holds the key. As he teaches her about passion through
touch, not sight, he prays he’ll be able to win her trust. Not because two colonies depend
on them, but because his love for her is everything.

Bitter Gold by Mima

An innocent woman is bound to an alien slave.
Stillskin lives for the day he can rid himself of the slave clamp around his heart and

leave this den of powerful addicts. Then his foul masters drag Liese to the enclave. The
kind baker is the one spot of pleasure in his life, and he will risk much to help her.

He is the most exotic thing she’s ever seen, dark and stoic. If only there was a way

she could help free him. When she is kidnapped and taken to the enclave, she believes it
means her death. But Stillskin convinces her to fight back. Now two friends are trapped
in a dire race for freedom.

Commanded to Mate

Jennifer Leeland

Chapter One

Sierra Pasquel stared out the conference room window, taking in the panoramic view

of the colony’s skyline. The Asberek evening sky was streaked with reds and pinks, just
like every night this time of year.

“I called you three here for an important request,” her father announced. Something

in his tone made her nerves tighten with fear, and she glanced at his face. Adonis
Pasquel, leader of the Asberek colony, hero of the rebellion that liberated them from
Earth Central, had dark circles under his eyes.

He’d been in negotiations with the Dormrela for almost six months now, desperately

trying to solidify an alliance that would protect the rebels from Earth Central’s fist. So
why would he call his three daughters into the conference room? As the youngest, Sierra
was mostly ignored by her famous and busy father. She’d followed in her mother’s
footsteps, studying the ancient Dormrelian relics left on Asberek before the colony
arrived. Their presence on Asberek had been a mystery and still fascinated Sierra’s
mother, even after all these years. Why the Dormrela abandoned the planet was no
mystery, though. The flood of Synthetic Endorphin Xtasy, a chemical compound
developed by the Ang to increase sexual activity, had instead resulted in genocide.
Sierra’s mother had been one of the first humans to set foot on Asberek since the entire
population of Dormrela had been decimated over a hundred years earlier.

The silence after her father’s announcement continued. Sierra focused on her father.

He fidgeted, his gaze on the floor, his hands clenched into fists. Her eyes widened. He
was nervous. How odd.

“Well? Come on, Dad,” Kinley prompted impatiently. “I’ve got a date tonight.”
What night didn’t Kinley have a date? Sierra bit back a sigh. Both her sisters were

popular, normal, pretty. Not Sierra. She was too short, too round and too weird to be
popular. Her older sisters drove Sierra’s parents crazy with their revolving boyfriends and
party life. Not Sierra. She worked.

Sierra gazed at her sisters, who sat around the polished metal table, their reflections

blurry in the harsh fluorescent glow. They were both beautiful and seemed to fit in this
modern environment. The grey-blue walls and the black computer screens only
emphasized their blonde coloring and slender features.

In contrast, she was a rather dull, washed-out copy with similar features but none of

their beauty.

“When we first colonized Asberek, we relied heavily on the Ang for information

about this system,” her father said. “We found a city that had been inhabited by a species
we eventually discovered were humans taken from Earth by the Ang hundreds of years
ago.”

Shasta shifted impatiently, but all three girls stayed quiet. This was all old

information to them.

“We also discovered that the Dormrela had been spying on this human population,

trying to determine what the Ang were doing so they could stop it.” Sierra’s father kept
his gaze on his clenched fists on the table. “I was … recruited … by a Dormrelian
ambassador to stop Ang domination.” Her father seemed so tortured. Sierra didn’t want

to hear anymore.

“And?” Kinley demanded.
Adonis Pasquel sighed. “I was duped by both sides. Even Earth Central lied to hide

their part in the whole mess. Then Earth Central sent one of their Elite Tribunal soldiers
to assassinate me.”

Sierra squirmed. She’d been such a fool. The man had knocked out Sierra’s date for

a colonial dance and convinced her he’d been sent by her father as a replacement. To
guard. Instead, the man tried to kill her father and wounded Matthew Lestrano in the
process.

“Dad, we know all this,” Kinley said.
“Earth Central wants control of the colony for our resources.” And our DNA, thought

Sierra. Her father rubbed his forehead. “As you know, Earth launched an attack force
about four months ago. We have three months at the most before they arrive. We need the
Dormrela to help us against Earth Central.” He took a deep breath. “Something has come
up in the negotiations with Dormrela that concerns you.” He cleared his throat. “One of
the stipulations the Dormrela have demanded for their help is an arranged marriage with
one of you.”

The silence that followed was deafening. Sierra blinked. Shasta was the first to

speak. “That’s insane. This is twenty-third century Asberek, not ancient Earth. Tell them
to go to hell.” Her sister’s blue eyes glittered.

“It’s completely unreasonable,” Kinley snapped. “We’re not cattle to be sold at

auction.” She glared at her father’s bent head. “Do they even care which one of us they
acquire?”

“They suggested one of you might volunteer. But make no mistake, this is a

requirement they insist upon.” Her father’s lips tightened. “The Dormrelan culture still
recognizes arranged marriages. They’ve had to because of what the Ang did to their DNA
all those years ago.”

“We had nothing to do with that,” Shasta protested.
“It’s what they’ve requested.” Sierra’s father frowned. “The Ang, out of desperation,

experimented on the Dormrela, on humans—”

“On us,” Kinley ground out. “This is ridiculous. They’re no better than the Ang.”
“Honey—”
Kinley raised an imperious hand. “No. The Ang kidnapped me and Shasta fifteen

years ago. We know.”

“And they had help from those fucking lizards,” Shasta snarled. “I don’t think the

fact the Ang bred them for centuries excuses them.” She ignored Sierra’s gasp. “Besides,
how can a human woman mate with one of them anyway?”

Sierra stared at Shasta and Kinley. Both of them were so angry, and she thought she

could sense fear beneath the hostility.

Her father glared at Shasta. “That’s an insensitive statement based on ignorance. It’s

exactly the kind of attitude that is blocking a peaceful solution.” He ran a hand through
his hair. “I thought I taught you better than that.” His voice sounded tired and he
massaged his temples. “You both have every reason to hate the Dormrela, but how can
you allow our colony to fail because of the work of a small group of rebels?”

Shasta’s pixie face flushed a bright red, but her chin stayed high. “You taught us that

our DNA is the most valuable in the galaxy. Haven’t we all had to keep a guard with us

since we were born? And now you’ll hand one of us over to a four-armed four-eyed alien.
For what?”

“Peace,” her father said. “Survival.” Sierra’s heart clenched. She’d never seen her

father so tired, so worn. For years he’d kept them all at bay—the Ang, the Dormrela,
Earth Central—but it was a losing battle.

“Why do they want one of us?” Sierra asked.
Her father sighed. “Your DNA is the most valuable in the galaxy. I never told you

why.”

Sierra’s very soul listened.
He continued. “My DNA is a product of experiments, injections given to me by an

evil man twenty-eight years ago. Let’s just say that my physiology has been altered. All
three of you carry the same DNA mutations.” He stared at Shasta. “None of you are
completely human.”

“So what are we?” Kinley shouted. “That’s why the Ang took us, isn’t it? You’re

willing to mate us to a monster. What kind of a father are you?”

Her sisters began to yell over each other, the cacophony beating Sierra’s ears. She

thought about the colony, her friends and family, the life she knew. Now the critical
nature of their need for allies became clear. They weren’t just a rebellious outpost, and
Earth Central wanted more than obedience. They wanted the Pasquel family DNA. This
would not end well if they didn’t get help.

She thought about Earth Central and the horrible biological weapons they used to get

their way. Everything Sierra knew would be destroyed if one of them didn’t—

“I’ll do it.” The words flew out of Sierra’s mouth before she thought about them.
Her father and two sisters stared at her.
She met each of their gazes. “To keep the peace, to save the colony, what difference

does it make what the Dormrela want?” She stared at Kinley. “Earth Central sent a man
who tried to kill Dad last year.” Then she stared at Shasta. “The Ang tried to kidnap you.”
Her gaze returned to her father. “And last month, Earth Central sent a spy who blew up
one of the transport bays.” She shook her head. “That’s why we have to do this. We need
the Dormrela to help us defend Asberek.” Her home, her family, all hung in the balance.
Never mind the fact she owed it to her family after almost getting her father killed, even
if her assistance had been unwitting. “Of all of us, I know the Dormrela. I’ll do it.”

“No,” Kinley said. “Dad, don’t make her do this.”
Her sister had always been her protector. She shook her head at Kinley. Sierra had

seen her father’s desperation. The burden of keeping the small colony alive now
depended on the most primitive of bonds. And she was the only one who was willing.

“Sierra, are you sure?” Her father murmured.
She nodded. “I’m sure. I’ve studied the culture all my life. I’m the best choice.”
It had been a series of shocks, but nothing stunned her more than the tears that

gathered in her father’s eyes. “Thank you, Sierra.” His fingers trembled as he reached
across the conference table and touched her hand.

“What are the details of this marriage? How long do I have? Who am I marrying?”

She asked the questions quickly before reality struck and she ran from the room,
screaming.

“Terek Maji is a high-ranking Dormrelian diplomat who has been negotiating the

treaty. The arranged marriage is with him.” Her father clasped her hand in his. “You’ll be

married according to Dormrelian customs.” Sierra’s stomach churned when her father
wouldn’t look her in the eye.

Dormrelian customs. “I haven’t studied their marriage rites.” Did that mean—

“Customs … are?” she managed to say, though her mouth was dry as dust.

He cleared his throat. “Public consummation.”
A fist clenched around her stomach and she felt nauseous. She’d known, but had to

hear her father say it. She and her colleagues had discussed what little information had
been discovered, but none of them had ever thought they’d know someone who would
make such a custom reality. Most certainly not her.

Her father raked a hand through his hair. “Apparently, it’s the Dormrelian custom for

the council to witness the mating for political alliances.”

She licked her lips. “When?” she whispered.
“Two months from tomorrow.” Her father let go of her hand and pounded the table.

“The rush is my fault, not Maji’s. Earth Central has sent an ultimatum. They’re sending
military force to reacquire the colony. The information we have says they’re equipped
with biological weapons.” He thrust his hand through his hair. “The Dormrela have
agreed to stand beside us, provided the marriage ceremony is completed.”

Numb, Sierra nodded. “I see.”
“You can’t do this to her,” Shasta protested.
Sierra covered her sister’s fist with her hand. “It’s okay.” She stared at her father. “I

have two requests.”

“Name them,” her father said.
“I want this Terek Maji to contact me every day for the next six weeks. If I’m going

to be his mate, I want to know who he is.”

“Done,” her father snapped. “And?”
She took a deep breath. “And I don’t want to see him. Audio only.”
Her father studied her face and then nodded. “I’m sure he’ll agree to that.”
“Has he seen what I look like?” She wasn’t exactly every man’s dream. The audio

protected her from rejection as well.

“I don’t know. You are all well known in this system,” he said slowly. “He may

have.”

She nodded. “Well, hopefully he will be satisfied.”

*

This was not how Terek Maji had anticipated acquiring a mate. High above

Asberek’s atmosphere, he rubbed his hands on his flight suit and perched on his chair.
That one of the Pasquel women agreed to be mated to a Dormrelian warrior was difficult
to wrap his brain around.

After all, he’d been taught early in life that the Dormrela were a superior race, and

better off without alien influence. His mother—but he wasn’t going to think about her
right now. He had to think about Sierra Pasquel.

He knew very little about this human female to whom he was about to be bound to

for life. Surprisingly, he couldn’t find images of her anywhere in the vid streams, unlike
her sisters who cluttered the airways with their inane activities.

Not that he could judge them. He, of all people, understood the necessity to show a

different face to the world than the one he studied in the mirror.

The irony of Sierra’s request that they communicate, but blindly, wasn’t lost on him.

It concerned him that she might find him … frightening. Most humans did. Was it the
extra set of eyes? Or the extra arms? Or perhaps it was the scales that covered their
bodies? Whatever the reason, humans were uncomfortable around the Dormrela, though
the ones from Asberek were less overt about it.

“Transmission signal activated.” The computer intoned.
Terek forced his pulse to slow and kept his hands unclenched. She would hear his

tension, even if she couldn’t see it. He had to remain calm.

“You don’t have to do this,” Terek heard a whisper.
“I want to do this, Shasta,” a warm, female voice responded clearly. “I’ll be all

right.”

“Do you want me to stay?”
“No, I’ll be fine.” Sierra’s firm voice never wavered, but Terek wondered if that was

an act for her sister. “You go.”

Terek heard a rustle and then, silence. A moment later, Sierra said, “Terek Maji?”
“I’m here,” he answered.
“I apologize. I didn’t realize the transmission line was open.” She cleared her throat.

“I suppose you think I’m a coward,” she said in a louder tone.

Interesting opening. “No. I don’t. There is no precedent for this, Sierra Pasquel.

There’s no manual for how to behave.”

“Too bad,” she said dryly. “I could use one right now.”
He snorted. A sense of humor? She would need it. “You can write one.”
She laughed, a warm sound that melted a little of Terek’s tension. “I’ll take notes.”
“Tell me what you’d like to know.” Of course, Terek was aware there were many

questions he couldn’t answer, but he wondered what she’d ask.

“I know very little about Dormrela, just what I’ve learned from your ancient ruins,”

she said slowly. “My father said you have a council that runs the government.”

Ah, a safe topic. Politics. He smiled, glad she couldn’t see him. “Yes. We have a

council of ten. They are both appointed and elected.”

“How can they be both?”
“To be eligible for election by our people, the seated council members must appoint

a candidate. Usually, they appoint two and let the population decide.”

“It sounds controlling,” she said dubiously.
“Compared to the type of government on Earth, it is controlling. There is no

campaigning, no trying to convince the people to vote one way or another.” Terek had
seen the footage from Earth Central’s political atmosphere. The vicious verbal attacks
and disinformation had shocked him. But then, his government specialized in lies too.

“And they require public fucking.” Her voice wavered and he heard the doubt and

fear in it.

“Yes. It may seem barbaric to you, but it’s one way the council ensures that the

mating is a real one.” Again, the irony of his statement didn’t escape him. Yes, this public
consummation made a mating “real”, but it didn’t save them from the coldness, the
ugliness, of political distance. Hadn’t he seen that firsthand? “We are lucky, you and I.”

“Oh? How’s that?”
“We both have the best interests of our people in our hearts.” Would that be enough?

He wasn’t sure. The council had been adamant. A Pasquel daughter must become part of
the inner workings of Dormrelian politics and the only way they would trust her was if

she was publicly mated to him.

“I don’t see what benefit your government receives from this.”
“Trust.” He struggled to find the right words. “How familiar with Earth’s ancient

history are you?”

“Some.”
“My father told me a story that he’d heard from his father and so on.” How far back

did their memories go? Not far enough. “Once political marriages were commonplace on
your home planet.”

“Yes. But we have had one central government for decades.” She sounded confused,

but she was listening.

“Long ago, my father said two countries that were constantly at war arranged for one

leader’s daughter to marry the other leader’s son.” Isabella and Edward II. Probably not
the best example since Edward II was enamoured with one of his favorites and Isabella
ousted her husband from the throne with the help of her lover. But Terek pressed on.
“Those two countries were able to stave off war for many years because they were
connected by blood.”

“Your people have no reason to fear us.” She sounded suspicious.
“War drains our people. We already have conflicts with the Ang. Why would we

want to continue misunderstandings with another planet?”

Well, it sounded good. What would she say if he told her the truth? If he explained

that his people were dying, that something was wrong with the DNA on his planet and
she was their only hope?

He knew what she’d say. That it was their own fault for isolating themselves all

these centuries, for their aggression, their suspicious nature. He knew they hadn’t handled
relations with Earth Central very well, and their attempts to disrupt the Ang’s influence
had led directly to this day, this conversation.

The facts were clear and public knowledge. They’d sent Kliro as an ambassador, but

he’d had his own idea of how to gain the upper hand on their old enemy, the Ang. The
injections he’d given to Adonis Pasquel had almost killed the man.

How ironic that the Ang saved Pasquel, creating the one thing the Dormrela had

sought for over a hundred years.

A solution to their DNA dead end.
“It seems too simple,” she finally said. Perceptive.
“Nothing about a political match is simple.”
“Why do I get the feeling there’s much more behind this?”
“Would it change anything?” The words slipped out. Wasn’t this difficult enough?

He didn’t mean to sound bitter, but he was as trapped as she was.

She was silent for a moment. Then, “No. I love my colony. I’ll do whatever it takes

to protect them.”

“And I promise you, I will too.”
“You would?” She sounded stunned. “I thought—” The following silence was filled

with her unanswered questions. “I thought this was about my commitment.”

“It’s about both of us. This will be a partnership.” He hoped for more, but would live

with less. For his people.

She cleared her throat. “With benefits, I hope.”
The husky quality of her voice sent electricity through him. Would she be willing

to—“Only if you desire it.”

“I don’t like deception, Ambassador.”
It was at that moment Terek knew. He didn’t know how he knew, but his soul cried

out for its missing part, the part that Sierra Pasquel apparently had. “You have my
promise,” he said, his throat suddenly tight. “Our partnership will be equal in truth.”

“Even though I’m human?”
“No matter what, Ashani.” He said the words softly, wanting nothing more than to

reach his hand through the screen and touch her, reassure her.

“I hope you don’t regret that promise.” She sounded so unsure. Of him? Or of

herself?

“Tell me what you’re afraid of.”
She was quiet for a long time. Finally, she said. “Did you know it was my fault my

father was almost killed?” Her voice cracked on the last word. “I was deceived, charmed
by an Earth Central Tribunal soldier. Because of me, he got close enough to take a shot at
my father and wounded Matthew Lestrano instead.” She inhaled, her breath audibly
shaky. “I’m not exactly a good judge of character.”

So, that was it. Understandable. “Do you trust your father?”
“Yes. Yes, I do.”
“He loves you. He wouldn’t give you to someone he didn’t trust. Not for any treaty.”

Hell, he almost hadn’t agreed to the mating because he wanted his daughter to fall in
love. And now, as Terek spoke to his future mate, he understood why.

“Do you think I’m being ridiculously female?”
“No. You’ve had your trust betrayed. I understand completely.”
“I feel as if this is the only way I can make up for what I did, for what happened.”

Tears were in her voice.

“Ashani, you were deceived by one of the best trained soldiers in the universe and

his whole purpose was to do just what he did.” He clenched his fists. The bastard. How
could someone use her like that? Good thing the pakhtash was dead. “No one could have
known. No one.”

She sighed. “That’s what Daddy said, but—”
“No buts,” he said sternly.
Her laughter rang over the com. “You do sound threatening.”
“It isn’t working, is it?”
“No,” she said softly. “Thank you, Ambassador.”
“Call me Terek.”

Chapter Two

“Computer, stop.” Sierra stared at the frozen hologram. Why couldn’t she face this

discomfort, this fear? Hell, she was Adonis Pasquel’s daughter. She should be able to
face any alien, any danger. And here in the Virtual Fantasy Room, she knew it wasn’t
real.

So what was her problem?
Oh yeah. She was human and the hologram was a Dormrelian warrior. Four eyes,

four arms. Scales covered every inch of his skin and an eerily human face gazed down at
her. She was short, about five-three, and this warrior towered over her by at least a foot
and a half. Massive, muscular and completely alien.

She took a deep breath. Somehow she’d have to get past this. To save her home, to

bring peace to Asberek. She knew deep in her bones that this was her mission to
complete or fail.

But oh, she was terrified of the Dormrelian. Yes, she’d studied them most of her life

and respected what she knew of their ancient culture, but they were so different, so huge,
that the idea of sex with one of them scared the crap out of her.

Not that her intended mate hadn’t understood. He did. Terek Maji had been patient,

agreeing to the conference calls without video so she could become comfortable with him
as another being instead of a Dormrelian diplomat. Their conversations had been varied,
but not personal. Her intended mate had been cautious and careful.

As a child, her mother had filled their house with Dormrelian artifacts, art, and

mysterious items from an abandoned temple on Asberek. The Dormrelian culture had
fascinated her and she began to study it at a young age.

But their appearance was still intimidating, frightening.
It was a little late now. The ship, Hope of Asberek, sped through the stars to the

homeworld of Dormrela and her future mate. And here she was, in the VFR, still getting
up the nerve to fuck a Dormrelian male.

Alarms blared and the VFR setting faded, resetting itself to a blank green screen.

“Miss Pasquel,” one of her guards called on her com. “We are under attack by an
unknown vessel. Please return to your quarters.”

Sierra wasted no time. She sprinted out the door and stopped to retrieve a blaster

from one of the weapons caches. Chaos reigned and the ship spun suddenly, sending
Sierra into the opposite wall of the corridor. The hull creaked, a sound she’d never heard
before. It meant the other vessel was firing on them, and they’d lost their shields.

Who was attacking them? Earth Central? Low probability since it took so long for

them to travel to this system even if they knew she was on this ship. The Ang? Possibly,
to stop a peaceful settlement between Asberek and Dormrela. It seemed those two planets
would never get along. It wouldn’t be the first time Asberek humans were caught in the
middle of their endless war.

Andrews, one of her guards, appeared and intercepted her. “They’re boarding us. Get

under cover.”

The sound of fighting reached her ears. Shit. She charged her blaster and Andrews

led her to the cargo hold. She crouched behind a container and waited. Screams, blaster

fire, and shouts came closer. Finally, the cargo hold door exploded and shards of metal
showered the room. She ducked and Andrews stepped out with a yell and fired on the
incoming hoard.

She rose and fired at the doorway. Dormrelian warriors? Four of them crowded the

entrance to the hold. Each of their four hands held weapons, their four eyes giving them
the ability to fire on her and Andrews simultaneously.

One of the blaster streams hit Andrews and he screamed as his body melted from

repeated fire.

“Andrews,” she shrieked. She shouted and fired rapidly. It was a losing fight and she

was going to die.

Another explosion rattled the ship. The Dormrelian warriors were shouting in their

language. She caught a few words she understood and cursed once again the fact that her
studies had given her only rudimentary understanding of Dormrela’s speech. Terek had
always spoken in Earth standard.

One of them vaulted over a container and landed behind her. She whipped around,

determined to blast him to Hell, but he grabbed the blaster and shoved it toward the
ceiling. The blaster went off and she dropped the rifle. The Dormrelian slapped her across
the face and she spun away, the throb of pain nothing compared to the ache in her heart at
the sight of her dead guard. When she tried to escape, the warrior caught her around the
waist and threw her over his shoulder. She squirmed and pummeled the alien’s scaly
back.

She couldn’t breathe. Lungs burning, her throat closed. Adrenaline poured through

her nerves and she screamed defiance at her captors. The one who carried her was
flanked by two others who fired at an enemy she couldn’t see.

Thrown over the Dormrelian’s back, she could only see what was left of the dead

bodies of her friends. Tattered uniforms lay scattered, the unrecognizable form of human
remains filling them and their names still clearly visible. Andrews, her guard for over
three years. Matea, an old soldier she’d known all her life. Countless lifeless corpses lay
in the corridors, dead because of her.

One of the flanking warriors died from a blaster charge and his body melted into a

puddle. She renewed her struggles. The warrior on the left went down and in response her
captor stopped, his hold on her tightening.

She hit him, kicked him, anything to free herself. Then the Dormrelian warrior threw

her forward and she flew through the air. She flailed and hit a solid object. Arms cradled
her even while the force of her body tumbled them both to the floor.

The impact knocked the breath from her body but she was on her feet and picked up

a fallen blaster. She fired on the warrior who had thrown her, shouting, “Die, you fucking
bastard!”

The charge ran out and there was nothing left of the warrior but charred scales. She

whipped around to thank her rescuer and found a huge Dormrelian warrior standing there.
Her cry was cut short when he ripped the weapon from her hands. She kicked and hit out,
reason completely gone. Her friends were dead, all dead, because of monsters like this.
She wanted them dead.

Her fighting was useless, but the warrior didn’t defend himself or react. He stood

there and let her beat on him until she slid to the floor on her knees, tears on her cheeks
and bruises on her hands.

Then, he picked her up gently and carried her from the burning stench of death. A

black film dropped over her vision and she finally slipped into blessed oblivion.

*

“Two more ships are coming in.” Terek’s right-hand man Foleran shouted on the

com link.

Damn them. His own people were attacking a diplomatic ship. It showed a lack of

finesse he hadn’t expected. Which was probably why they’d done it.

“Fire up the laser cannons. We’ll have to fight them.” Terek carried his precious

burden across the boarding tunnel and onto his ship.

She was definitely a surprise. First of all, he’d expected a tall, willowy woman, since

he’d seen pictures of her sisters who were both tall and thin. But she was much shorter,
with more curves. She fit in his arms perfectly and he liked the sensation.

Could they be lucky enough to be compatible physically? She was intelligent, quick

witted and very loyal. That much he knew from their daily conversations. He hadn’t
realized she knew defense techniques. Hell, he hadn’t even known she could fire a
blaster.

She’d been thrown across a hallway into his arms, yet had bounded to her feet and

destroyed her enemy.

A formidable opponent.
If only his government would allow him to reveal his closely held secret, it would go

much more smoothly. But they had tied his hands, hampered him in this mating. He
shook his head. They wanted to test these humans. Understandable, since the Dormrelian
experience with humans hadn’t all been positive. Of course, his government was partly to
blame. Trust wasn’t a commodity the council doled out easily. But it was Earth Central
that had turned Kliro, paid the Ambassador to kill, to change Pasquel’s DNA, to try and
destroy Asberek. And the council didn’t seem to see much difference between the
population on Earth and the colony on Asberek. Human was human as far as they were
concerned.

Terek laid Sierra down on his bed and stared at her for a moment. How could she

know that arranged matings on Dormrela were the result of Ang breeding? Or that it was
usually the female who chose her mate, not the male? Or that her precious DNA might
save his people? Wasn’t it enough of a burden to be the carrier of peace for her colony?

She didn’t need more pressure. He stroked her cheek. Had she left a man on

Asberek? Terek was well aware of the heightened sexual activity on Asberek. Fantasies,
games of bondage and dominance, dice games based in sex—all were part of the new
colony’s culture. The presence of Synthetic Endorphin Xstasy had destroyed the ancient
human population there a hundred years ago and it affected the current colony too.

Had it influenced his future mate?
The ship shook and Foleran’s strained voice came over his com link. “They’re

determined to have your mate, Terek.”

“On my way.” He took one last look at Sierra and palm-locked the door. Even if the

enemy boarded them, they’d have to blow the door in to get to her.

The ship that had boarded the Hope of Asberek had been obliterated, but two more

appeared. Dormrelian freighters were fast, but Terek’s warship outgunned them. Terek
shook his head. The fools.

Terek manned the cannon and soon one of the other ships exploded into smithereens.

The last freighter was crippled.

“Surrender now and live,” Terek said over the com to the enemy vessel.
A vid link clicked on. A Dormrelian warrior, bloody, one arm chopped away and

sparks snapping in the background stared back at them. “All who are not Dormrela
should die!”

Something in the warrior’s expression made Terek’s nerves jangle. “Get us away

from that ship. Now!”

Foleran rammed the engines into full gear and put distance between their ship and

the freighter. On the screen, the freighter blew up, ripping a massive hole in the fabric of
space which sucked everything within its sphere of gravity into it.

“Holy shit,” Foleran whispered.
“A Star bomb,” Terek said. How the hell had they gotten a Star bomb? Those

fucking things were Ang technology, horrific weapons that created rifts in time and
space. No Dormrelian would use one unless they’d completely turned on their own
people.

The ship shuddered, the gravitational pull of the tear trying to yank them back. It

took every megaerg of power to break away. When they did, the resulting slingshot sent
them hurtling forward at a breakneck speed.

Terek’s head pounded and his nerves tightened. He and Foleran struggled to keep the

ship steady, not spinning into oblivion.

Finally, the ship slowed. Terek let out the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been

holding.

“Damage?”
“We lost engine six, but the other five are fine.”
Terek nodded. “How far off course are we?”
Foleran studied the charts. “Not far. We’ll be home in about eighteen hours, about

what we figured.”

“Send a message to Dormrela and inform them of the rift. We don’t want someone

accidentally getting pulled in.”

“Done.”
“I’m going to go check on our passenger.” He strode toward the door.
“Does she have any idea that you’re—”
“No,” Terek snapped. “And no one is supposed to tell her.” After all the arguments

with the council, he knew the consequences if anyone did. The political situation was
delicate. His family had spent years balancing the opposing forces. At a very high price.

His friend stared at him. “That’s not going to make this very easy.”
Terek sighed. “You’re telling me.”

*

Sierra pried her eyes open. Had she been asleep? No, she’d passed out. She wasn’t

being carried anymore, but she wasn’t on the Hope of Asberek either. The light in the
room was muted and she lay on a soft cushion. The room was sparse, but had a few
personal items scattered about. A Dormrelian urn, an object she was familiar with, stood
in the corner. In her studies of Dormrela and its culture, their urns were fascinating.
Mostly, they held precious stones or some other objects of worth.

She was on a Dormrelian ship. Whether she was a prisoner or not was the question.

“Computer, lights.”

Nothing happened. She sighed. She threw the blanket that covered her off her legs

and headed for the door. It didn’t open. There was a console to the right but none of the
buttons opened the door.

Finally, she slammed her fist into the wall. Damn it. She was being held here and she

wanted out.

The door whooshed open and the Dormrelian warrior who had caught her in the

corridor filled the opening. She gasped and stumbled backward.

“Please, sit down. You will hurt yourself.”
He spoke Earth’s language perfectly. His voice was low and deep, very male. His

four eyes were fascinating. One set of them were a bright blue. The other set, located just
below the other pair, were also blue, but had green flecks in them. His scales were a
greenish gold, smooth and shining. He wore a green tunic that reached his upper thigh but
was tied at the waist. His pants were some shiny black material that clung to his muscles.

“Sit down, Miss Pasquel,” he repeated.
Her face burned and she dropped her gaze. She crossed her arms when she sat down

and glared at him. “I want out of here.”

He pulled a chair close to hers, but didn’t touch her. “I’m afraid you’ve been

frightened,” he said slowly. “Those Dormrelian warriors were part of a fringe group that
dislikes humans.”

She shifted in her chair. She wasn’t much better. The Dormrela culture was

interesting to her, but she was nervous about mating with an alien. Didn’t that make her a
xenophobe? Wasn’t she being unreasonable? Her fist clenched. She wanted to purge that
part of her, but she couldn’t help the jump of her nerves when this big warrior moved
closer and touched her hand.

He noted her reaction and recoiled slightly. “It’s not easy to overcome prejudice. Our

people have struggled with it, too.”

Sierra took a deep breath. “I don’t mean to be unfriendly, but I don’t know who you

are or what you represent.”

His lips pressed together and he held her gaze. “I’m Terek Maji.”
Her intended mate.
Shit. Well, she’d made a fabulous impression, hadn’t she? Nothing like screaming

like a banshee, killing her captor and then fainting to show her good side. “I’m sorry. I
didn’t recognize your voice.” She glanced away. “I’m afraid I haven’t shown my better
side—”

“On the contrary,” he interrupted. “You fought like a warrior. Impressive.”
She stared at him. “Really?”
He smiled. Wow. When he smiled, he was … almost human. “Really. I apologize for

my fellow warriors. Their courage is commendable, but misplaced. And to attack a
diplomatic ship is more than disgraceful, it’s criminal.” He shrugged his massive
shoulders. “But they’re desperate to stop our alliance.”

That surprised her. On Asberek, there were reservations about a treaty based on a

mating, but most of the colony accepted it as a necessity. Hostility based on racial hatred
hadn’t occurred to her. “Why?”

“This particular group is intent on keeping Dormrelian DNA pure.” He rose and

pressed a button on the console. A cup with something steaming appeared. “Considering
our history, it’s foolish, but politics doesn’t always create wisdom.”

She snorted. “We’ve had this discussion before. Politics creates division, not

wisdom.” The cup warmed her hands when she took it from him. She sipped the liquid
and sighed. Whatever it was, it was rich and creamy. It relaxed her nerves and her lips
lifted. “Perhaps we should have discussed more personal topics.”

“We didn’t have time.” He retrieved a cup of the steaming liquid for himself. “The

treaty had to be signed and validated within the month to prepare for Earth Central’s
aggression. My government was inflexible, I’m afraid. No mating, no military help.”

“It’s strange,” she said, her brow wrinkling. “I know your political views, the way

your government works and your place in it, but I know nothing about you personally.”

“No, you don’t. We only have four days to remedy that.” He took her empty cup

from her hand and took her other hand in one of his large paws. “And this attack has
made things worse, hasn’t it?”

Damn it. He was perceptive. But she had known that from their conversations. “I feel

like such an ignorant ass,” she told him. Honesty. They’d agreed on honesty. She’d been
the one to insist on it, believing that a loveless match could be tolerated as long as they
were truthful with each other. “I’m … afraid, Terek.”

His hand tightened on hers, the scales pressed into her skin. “Of me?”
“Of … us,” she admitted and dropped her gaze to the floor. God, she was so

embarrassed, heat flooded her face. She was acting like a silly virgin, afraid of the sex
act. She wasn’t, but she’d never had sex with anything other than a human being. How
the hell was she going to deal with this?

“Of our mating,” he acknowledged and nodded. “I see. Is it the public aspect that

bothers you?”

“Yes, and…” she couldn’t say it. She met his gaze. “Terek, we’re so different.

Physically.”

He nodded again and stroked the back of her hand with his fingers. The pads were

surprisingly soft, like human skin. “That’s completely understandable, Sierra.” It was the
first time he’d said her name. It made her shiver and not unpleasantly. She loved his
voice, the way his hand held hers, the soft expression in his eyes, and she didn’t want to
hurt him.

“Is it? Because I hate it. I want to be confident, accepting of this. But not only am I

mating outside my species, but I’m doing it in front of ten other people.”

“Like this treaty, it will take time to adjust. You’ll be fine.” He said it so positively,

as if there was no doubt in his mind.

She shook her head. “I was raised better than this, Terek, I promise.”
“You volunteered. That’s more than your two older sisters did,” he pointed out.
That was true. But the fact was Sierra had an esoteric understanding of the alien

culture and absolutely none of their social mores or personal sexual habits. Over and
over, she tried to mimic the act in the VFR and failed. “If I can’t follow through, it
doesn’t matter.” That’s what frightened her the most. Failure.

The mating and public consummation was the only way to resolve their differences.

Asberek and Dormrela both needed peace and if public sex was the way to get it, so be it.
Apparently, the Dormrela wanted peace as much as the humans did. Their reasons were
obscure, but the commitment seemed real.

“What I do know about you, Sierra Pasquel, is that you will not fail,” Terek said

softly.

She stared at him for a moment and then, shook her head. “I thought I knew about

the Dormrela. Now, I’m not sure.” She slid her hand away from his.

A closed expression hardened Terek’s features and his eyelids dropped down. “I

have found every culture holds surprises.”

Sierra sighed. “Perhaps you should explain the Hadaji to me. I’ve only heard

rumors.”

He blinked. “It’s a ceremony, a celebration, of Dormrelian freedom from Ang

tyranny.”

“Is it true you mate with strangers?” Her eyes widened. What would that be like? To

have sex with someone she didn’t know at all?

“There are times when strangers mate,” Terek said slowly. “It is dangerous,

however, to interfere with a connected couple.”

He lost her. “What? I don’t understand.”
“During the Hadaji, we are allowed to choose who we wish, to mate randomly

without thought of genetic or social compatibility,” Terek told her. “But when a couple is
committed, there are consequences to random choices. Challenges are rare, but they
occur.”

“So, there are fights over mates?”
He frowned. “During the ceremony, senses are heightened. At times, a woman may

not know she has chosen a man until another woman threatens to mate with him during
the celebration. It’s the ritual, the hormonal cycle, that may clarify feelings.”

“This sounds more complicated than I thought it was,” Sierra said. In fact, her

opinion of the Dormrelian celebration had been completely incorrect. She’d thought the
Dormrela celebrated their freedom from the Ang genetic yoke by sexual promiscuity.
Instead, it seemed there seemed to be more involved in it. “Are many couples formed
during the ceremony?”

“Some.” Terek seemed reticent suddenly.
“But the actual mating is public.”
Terek’s gaze held hers and there was something hot and sultry about his expression.

“The mating is … wherever and whenever. Many mate in public. Some don’t.”

Sierra couldn’t take a deep breath. Something electric had developed between them

and she didn’t understand it. “So it’s uncontrolled.” Why did that send a thrill through
her? The idea of wild, unrestrained passion appealed to her.

Normally, she didn’t consider herself a sexual being. Oh, there’d been men on

Asberek. But they were restrained, almost polite in their pursuit of her. Something had
always been missing.

With Terek’s stare on her face, she wondered if this was the thing she’d missed. Heat

rose to her cheeks and the silence stretched between them.

When he spoke, his voice seemed gruff and strained. “It’s not something I can

explain,” he told her. “It’s something one must experience to understand.”

She studied him, the way his muscles were bunched and his features were tight.

“Have I offended you with my questions?”

His movement was slow and easy when he took one of her hands and twined his

fingers through his scaled ones. “No. But our discussion has … repercussions.”

Her chest tightened. “Such as?”
His hand squeezed hers and he tugged on it. Hesitantly, she rose and stepped closer

to him. A scent wafted to her nostrils, a musky, male smell that made her dizzy. He
tugged on her hand again and she dropped into his lap.

“Such as this,” he murmured. He bent down and brushed her lips with his.
She froze. Then, he slid his arms around her and took possession. Two of his arms

braced her hips while his upper arms stroked her back. His mouth dominated her,
demanded her compliance. Heat and need streaked through her, surprising her in their
intensity. She opened her mouth and his tongue swept in and washed away her worry, her
fear. She melted, her bottom aware of his cock, hard and insistent, digging into her soft
flesh. That, at least, was familiar.

When she shifted restlessly, he moaned into her mouth. Triumph filled her. He

wanted her. His hands flexed and pressed her closer to him. She forgot he had four arms,
forgot he had scales, forgot everything except his mouth on hers.

He lifted his head, his breath fast and hot on her face. “Sierra,” he breathed her

name.

She blinked and became aware that she was bent over his arms, her body completely

surrendered to him. The fear of being overwhelmed swept over her and she scrambled
away from him.

When she reached the chair opposite him, she clutched the edge of it with nervous

fingers. What the hell was wrong with her? First she’d completely melted beneath his
touch and then she ran away like a damn virgin. She couldn’t process it all.

“I’m so sorry,” he said and pressed a hand to his forehead. “I shouldn’t have—”
“Please stop, Terek.” Her voice shook. “I’m sorry I’m such a coward.”
His head snapped up and two of his hands clenched into fists. “You are not a coward.

But you’ve lost much. I hoped to comfort you, not paw you.”

She took a deep, shuddering breath. “I did not feel pawed. I felt—I felt—” By the

stars, she’d felt desired, feminine, sexy. But she couldn’t say that to him. “Please don’t
apologize.”

He rose and bowed his head. “I’ll let you rest.” He handed her a data crystal. “This

will give you access to the ship’s systems.”

Her fingers brushed his when she took the crystal. Electricity sparked again and she

glanced at him. He blinked and withdrew quickly.

Fatigue swamped her and she swayed. His hands shot out and steadied her. “Please,

lie down. You’ve been through too much.”

Tears clogged her throat. The vision of her dead friends dominated her mind for a

moment. She shook her head. They wouldn’t want her to give way. She tipped her chin.
“Thank you. I’ll be all right. But I will lie down for a while.”

Terek waited, a silent presence, while she tucked her feet inside the huge bed in the

room. The blanket lay heavy over her and her lids dropped over her dry eyes. Somehow,
the Dormrelian’s presence gave her a sense of safety. Sleep claimed her and wrapped her
in the arms of oblivion.

*

Damn his government anyway. Terek pounded a fist into the console of his flight

chair. Sierra was safely stowed in his quarters and he’d once again begged the council to
allow him to be completely honest with his future mate.

They refused.
His jaw clenched. She trusted him. How would she feel when she discovered the

deception? Not that he had a choice. Politics on Dormrela were tricky on a good day, but
these days it was even more dangerous.

And the secret the Dormrela kept from the rest of the galaxy had been guarded for

over a hundred years. They weren’t going to let him reveal it to Sierra Pasquel until they
were sure of her.

He had been certain of her after the first conversation over their vid phones. The lack

of visual contact was actually to his advantage, though she didn’t know that. She thought
he was being thoughtful and kind. He shifted in his chair. Nothing could be more wrong.
He was a selfish bastard.

Her loyalty to Asberek and its people was unwavering. He could only hope it would

withstand the brutal truth when it was revealed.

That she’d been totally honest with him was clear. That she might walk away from

him when she knew he wasn’t being honest with her was also possible.

“The human proving difficult, Maji?” Foleran quipped.
“No. She’s perfect,” he said without hesitation. And she was. It was more than he

expected and certainly more than he deserved. Being who he was, he’d been sure he was
going to end up alone.

“Then why all the fist pounding?” Foleran was one of the few people in Terek’s life

who knew what he really was.

“You know.”
“The council won’t let you tell her.” Foleran shook his head. “That’s … not smart.”
“You’re telling me. This treaty is based on mutual trust and when she finds out—”
“Do you think she’ll break the mating agreement?” Foleran’s upper set of eyes

widened while the other set stayed riveted on the controls.

“I don’t know.” Terek shifted again in his seat. “The fact is, that’s not my biggest

fear. I don’t want a cold, barren mating.”

Foleran shrugged. “You may have no choice, my friend. Most political matings

aren’t warm and happy.”

“She deserves more.” That was the problem. She would be angry, stay mated to him,

and be miserable. It had been his hope that love could grow from their connection. But
could she forgive him when she found out?

“No doubt. But this isn’t just about her.” Foleran clapped him on the shoulder. “This

is about peace between two planets. And saving your people after the Ang messed with
them.”

The Ang. Terek’s nostrils flared. Being able to see the future had given the Ang an

advantage for centuries. Their interference in Dormrelian history and genetics was a fact.
He ought to know. The Ang had brought humans to Asberek over a hundred years earlier
and begun a chain of events that led to this mating, this treaty.

He sighed. The council was adamant. Sierra Pasquel must prove her commitment,

her willingness to keep one of the most explosive secrets on Dormrela. That was the price
to pay for the precious money and supplies Terek needed to stop a genetic nightmare
among his people. The Dormrelian council would supply the treaty and Terek would be
allowed to obtain DNA through a human mate.

And it had to be the progeny of Adonis Pasquel. Negotiating with the famous

Asberek leader had been an experience to remember. Point by point, he and Pasquel had
hashed out the best solution for all. How difficult had it been to offer up one of his own

daughters?

The sticking point with the treaty was simple. The Dormrela needed Pasquel’s DNA

mated with Terek’s and Asberek needed Dormrelian strength against Ang interference
and Earth Central’s manipulations.

Now, there was this fringe group that didn’t want the Dormrelian DNA pool

“polluted” by a human woman. The irony of that didn’t escape him. Little did they know
what a cesspool it already was.

“What did they say?” Feloran asked.
“I’m not allowed even to hint at the truth. Sierra Pasquel must remain completely

ignorant until the ceremony.” Terek sighed. “My family holds our political power with
tenuous hands, Feloran. One slip and I’ll be working in a Grack mine.”

“This is about the Sidharta.” Feloran shook his head. “Those pakhtash cause more

trouble…”

“Their hateful rhetoric is gaining ground. Anti-alien, pro-pure blood Dormrela, and

violence to implement their ‘utopia’ is their whole plan. The council is right. If the secret
gets out, civil war might erupt.”

“Why not just tell the people the truth? I handled it just fine,” his friend insisted.
“It’s not our own people they’re worried about.” Terek knew the council feared

outside opinion.

Feloran stared at him. “What do you mean?”
“Someone might ask too many questions.”
“You’re talking about the temple.” Feloran stared at him.
That temple. Their rogue ambassador, Kliro, hadn’t done them any favors all those

years ago. When he’d teamed up with Earth Central to inject alien DNA into Adonis
Pasquel, he’d passed on some misinformation the council had tried to suppress. The
humans that colonized Asberek had discovered the Dormrelian temple and deciphered
some of the inscriptions on the walls. One of them in particular was explosive. If Asberek
found out what Dormrela was hiding, relations would be impossible.

Unless he could convince Sierra to help him. Her blood, her DNA, held the key to

his people’s survival. But he couldn’t tell her a damn thing until after the ceremony. By
that time, it might be too late. Would she be willing to help when she discovered how
they had all deceived her?

“I’m talking about appearance. It doesn’t matter if it’s Earth Central, the Ang or the

Sidharta, the council is concerned about how it looks. You and I both know that truth
doesn’t make an angstrom of difference when it comes to diplomacy.”

“Do you think the Sidharta will attack again?” Foleran had a gift for following his

thoughts.

“Yes, I do.” Terek gazed out of the view screen at the stars blurred as they passed.

“There are some who don’t want to see peace in our time.”

“We’ve been warriors for a long time, Terek. It will take time to do things another

way.” Foleran said.

“I know it. I just hope Sierra doesn’t get caught in the middle.”
“She’s already in the middle, my friend. The best thing you and I can do is protect

her.”

“Even from myself?”
Foleran frowned at him. “Now, you cut that out. She’s luckier than she knows.”

But Terek wasn’t so sure.

* * * *

Sierra slept for a solid nine hours and Terek’s com beeped when the data crystal, a

translator, had been activated.

He kept track of her usage, noting she activated the shower facilities and asked the

computer for a Dormrelian language program. Would she be surprised to know there was
an Earth to Dormrelian language program? Maybe not. After all, she was Elise Pasquel’s
daughter. Dr. Elise Pasquel had translated more Dormrelian relics than any other human
before her. It was fascinating to Terek that the two humans that the Dormrela respected
the most were women: Sierra’s mother Elise Pasquel and Dr. Jenia Carstairs.

Dr. Carstairs attempted to save two Dormrelian pilots who had crash landed on

Asberek years before the planet was colonized, when it was only populated by scientists.
It was through her research that the Dormrela had discovered a way to save Terek’s
people. His government had great admiration for Dr. Carstair’s work.

Elise Pasquel was another matter. Terek’s government held her in high esteem, but

Terek had never found out why. Though he had the ear of many on the council, there
were still classified documents he wasn’t privy to. Whatever Elise Pasquel had done, it
was on a “need to know” basis and wasn’t connected to the fact she was mated to Adonis
Pasquel.

When he saw that Sierra had settled at the computer, he headed for his quarters. He’d

been awake for over twenty-four hours and needed some rest.

She had her intense gaze on the computer screen when he entered the room. Her

glance at him was cursory and quick. “This program is amazing.”

“Thank you,” he said. This was a side of Sierra he wasn’t familiar with. Her

intensity, her absolute focus was as appealing as the sweet curves he knew were hidden
beneath the baggy flight suit. “I’m sorry to bother you, but I need to rest before we reach
Dormrela.”

“Oh, of course,” she said, her expression stricken. “Have you been awake this whole

time? I’ll go up on the bridge if you wish,” she said rising to her feet.

He placed his hand on her shoulder. “No, please. I won’t bother you. Just keep doing

what you’re doing. I can sleep through anything.”

Slowly, she sat back down and gazed up at him. “Are you sure?”
“Positive.” He strode to his bed and crawled inside, his body stiff and tired. The

smell of Sierra filled his senses since she’d slept here. By the stars, it made him hard as
rock just being in the same bed she’d been in.

He forced his breathing to slow and still, but his mind was filled with all the wicked

things he wanted to do with the woman who was forced to mate with him. He drifted, his
mind scattered, his dreams filled with her sweetness.

Chapter Three

When Sierra stretched out the stiffness in her back a few hours later, she glanced at

the solid form of her proposed mate. Asleep, he seemed less threatening, less
intimidating. She crept closer and studied his features.

They were human, scales almost nonexistent around his features. The only odd thing

was the four closed eyes. His hair, cut short, was dark and curly and looked soft. The
urge to touch him was there, goading her.

Two of the eyes opened to meet her gaze. Heat, lust, desire all flamed in his blue

eyes, the green flecks bright and prominent.

She cleared her throat. “Good morning.”
He raised his eyebrows. “How are you?”
She licked her lips and immediately regretted it when he focused on her mouth.

“Fine. I feel fine,” she managed to say.

The tension between them stretched and snapped. Suddenly, he swept the blankets

away. “Good. I’m going to take a shower.”

When he stood up, she backed away, her heart pounding so hard she was sure he

could hear it. He moved like an exotic cat, stealthy and slow, toward the facilities.

The door closed and Sierra let out a long breath she didn’t even know she’d been

holding. She heard the water run and had a crazy desire to open the door to see him, to
view his naked body.

Where had that come from? The longer she was around Terek, the less afraid of the

ultimate moment they’d have to mate she became.

But in front of his council? No, that still frightened her. She’d been born on Asberek,

with all its sexual freedom, yet public sex still made her uncomfortable.

Terek appeared twenty minutes later, his hair damp but his body fully dressed. It was

as if he tried to keep his nakedness completely from her, probably because he knew she
was scared of him.

“I don’t know how I’m going to do what we have to do,” she said abruptly.
He met her gaze silently. “You’re frightened of me?”
“I’m not scared of you,” she said. “I’m afraid of the council, of doing this mating in

front of them.”

Terek covered her hand with another one of his. “Would a … trial run make you

more comfortable?”

Her mouth went dry. “I don’t know.”
“Will you trust me?” He gazed at her, his blue eyes all fixed on her face.
Could she trust him? Throughout the entire process, Terek had been patient, calm.

Their conversations had been relaxed and he had agreed to keep them audio only for her
comfort. How that must have hurt his feelings. Yet, he understood her reluctance, her
foolish inhibitions. She owed it to him to give him trust.

She nodded and closed her eyes. What now? Should she take her clothes off? Should

she—

“Come with me.” He stood up and waited for her to stand, his hands still clasped

around hers.

She rose and followed him out of his quarters, her heart pounding. This was it. He

was going to claim her in private.

He led her to another door down the corridor and pressed several buttons on a

console to the right. “I took the liberty of downloading some of your … programs from
your VFR on Asberek.”

She stared at him. “How did you do that?”
“I have several hidden talents,” he told her.
She snorted. “I’ll bet.”
He shot a glance at her filled with something hot and mysterious. Her heart skipped a

beat and heat rushed to the surface of her skin.

The door opened and he waved her ahead. She stepped into the VFR.
It was a lush forest with massive tall trees and colorful wildflowers. The sound of

water gurgled and she noted a small stream off to the left. A small pool, still and inviting,
caught the tumbling water.

She walked toward the pool and Terek caught her arm. “Wait.”
He covered her eyes with some soft, silky material. She was completely blind. She

gasped. “But—”

His breath was hot on her ear. “Trust me, Sierra.”
She could smell the scent of the trees and the sweet perfume of the flowers. The

sound of the water filled her ears and she relaxed. Trust Terek. That was the only way she
was going to succeed. He was a leader of his people, a man who had reached out for this
accord with her father through difficult negotiations. He’d been patient and respectful,
and he’d come into a firefight to save her.

The rough feel of his hands made her jump when he slid them up her arms and led

her forward. The sound of the water grew closer. He stopped and his hands were gone.
“Terek?”

“I’m here.”
Her fingers reached for the blindfold and his hand prevented her. “Trust me.”
The only sound she heard for a few minutes was the rush of the water. Just as she

began to get a little nervous, Terek’s voice broke the silence. “I’m going to undress you
now, Sierra.”

Her muscles bunched. She wasn’t ready for this. Her fists clenched and she tried to

force them to relax. The anticipation of Terek’s touch was almost worse than the attack
had been.

His fingers were firm, confident, as they flicked open the buttons of her flight suit.

Why hadn’t she worn something more feminine? Well, she hadn’t expected to meet her
prospective mate the way she had. Her thoughts spun around and she knew she was
distracting herself from the real fact that she was now naked in front of this alien. She
was so different from him. What would he think of her? Terek didn’t seem to mind. He
made a low hum of approval when he slid the material down her arms. His hands were
warm on her skin, unhooking her bra and freeing her breasts.

There was no rush, no hurry, in his touch. He pushed the flight suit all the way down

to her feet and she kicked it away. Her bra was next and then he fingered the waistband
of her underwear. She shivered. His touch was so sexy, so filled with appreciation that
she relaxed and let herself feel the sensation of his fingers.

Two hands cupped her ass and pressed her closer to his body. She tensed, expecting

the bite of scales, the hard press of alien skin. Instead, there was pressure, but not as
uncomfortable as she’d thought. In fact, the rough scales scraped her flesh in an erotic
slide that made her melt.

“You are beautiful,” he whispered.
“I am?” She was surprised. He thought she was beautiful? Even her own species

didn’t call her that. “But … I’m so different.”

He slid his fingers across the skin of her belly. “Yes. You are.”
The words, the sound of his voice, the heat in his tone sent electricity throughout her

system and she leaned closer to him, her hands reaching out to touch him. He caught
them before she reached his body and lifted them to his hair. She took the hint and
threaded her fingers through the strands. She’d been so intent on the differences between
Terek and herself, she hadn’t noticed the similarities. His hair twined around her hands
and he groaned.

She slid closer and his cock was an iron bar against her thigh. When she shifted, he

growled low and scraped his teeth along her neck. His hands tightened on her butt to
shove her hips toward his.

Her mouth went dry. “Terek?” He felt so big, and fear suddenly swept over her.
His lips brushed over her ear. “Can you trust me, Ashani?”
“I…” Could she? His touch was gentle. Her body responded to his. “I’ll try,” she

managed through a closed throat.

“That’s all I can ask,” he said.
His mouth took possession of hers, a hot, demanding kiss that knocked her breath

away and made her legs tremble. His tongue swept inside, pillaging, dominating. She
whimpered, her nipples hard points against his chest. Her hands were still buried in his
hair, and she clasped him hard, wanting more.

Her legs gave way and Terek caught her, laying her on what felt like a bed of soft

moss. His cock was pressed against the entrance of her waiting channel. The warmth
receded and some of the fear returned. She’d heard that Dormrelian males were … huge.
Her nostrils flared and she braced herself for the invasion.

Instead, Terek tore his mouth from hers and slid his tongue down her neck. When he

reached her breasts, she held her breath. He captured one nipple between his teeth and
she arched closer. God, the sensations were almost too much. Completely blind, she had
no idea where he would touch her, what he would do, how he would taste her next. It was
thrilling and sexy.

His hands cupped her breasts and pressed them together so his mouth could

encompass both nipples at once. Her pussy ached, the heat from his mouth sending her
senses reeling. “Terek,” she managed to choke.

He moaned against her skin, his mouth filled with her breasts and his hands hot on

her skin. One last lick and he left a trail of fire down her belly. His fingers ripped her
underwear away, the tearing of the material sounding loud and mixing with the harsh
gasp of her breath. He lifted her hips, his breath hot on her mound.

When his tongue flicked over her clit, the pressure built. She thrust her hips toward

his wicked mouth, demanding more. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. Every scrape
of his tongue sent flames ripping through her. Her head thrashed back and forth. She had
to go over the edge or she’d explode.

He sucked her nub into his mouth and she shattered. Her muscles tightened,

desperate to clench him closer, deeper. He took her again and again, setting an erotic
rhythm that made her tumble over the pinnacle of pleasure. Her hands clutched his head,
pressing him to her, needing his touch.

She screamed when she came, a rush of fire spreading through her. He growled and

shifted his body over hers. His mouth crashed into hers and he thrust his cock inside her
slick channel.

Instead of an invasion, it felt like a homecoming. She exploded around him, her

climax ripping through her. He slammed inside her, his movements uncontrolled and
frantic.

It shocked her that, except for the fact that he was bigger than any past lover she’d

had, he felt right inside her. She wrapped her legs around him, driving him deeper. His
tongue thrust in her mouth in time to his cock. The tension built again and she careened
higher, tighter, needier. Then she was there, floating over the edge, her body completely
given over to their passion. His hot release sent her spinning and they moaned in unison.

He kept moving, the slide of his cock causing little sparks to shoot down her spine.

His kiss softened and his lips caressed her jaw, her cheeks, the spot below her ear.

Sierra gasped for breath. Not only was that the best sex she’d ever had, not once did

it feel like she was screwing an alien. Except for the texture of his scales, which had been
exciting. She sighed, comforted. He’d been almost textbook in his progression, his
technique, and his foreplay. Wasn’t it funny how sexuality could be so similar? After all
her lurid fears of what difficult kinks his kind could demand, he’d been simply … lovely.

Her hands drifted from his hair and stroked his jaw line … which seemed different.

Curious, she started to explore with her fingers. He caught her hand. His breath was still
harsh gasps and he didn’t say any words.

Sierra shook from cold when Terek lifted his body away from her. “Terek?”
“I’m here.” A few minutes later, he lifted the blindfold away.
She stared at him. He was fully clothed and she realized she hadn’t seen him naked,

just felt him. It was weird.

He handed her the discarded flight suit and her bra. “I’m afraid I … shredded your

underwear,” he said and his gaze swerved away.

Heat rushed to her face at the memory. Yes, he had destroyed her undies. And she’d

loved it. “Shall I include it on my government expense list?”

A laugh exploded from him and he glanced at her face. “No. As your mate, I can buy

you another pair.” His stare was molten hot. “Maybe something we’ll both like.”

She bit her lip and raised an eyebrow. “If you like them too much, you’ll have to buy

several pairs.”

This time he threw back his head and roared with delighted laughter. It filled the air

and the tension in Sierra’s stomach unraveled. She loved the sound. It was big and loud,
like her father’s. Perhaps this wouldn’t be bad after all.

Except—“Terek, you won’t be able to blindfold me during the ceremony, will you?”
The smile dropped from his face. “No, Ashani. You’ll have to see everything.” Two

of his hands wrapped around her arms. “But it won’t be bad, I promise.”

“I trust you.” She stepped closer to him and laid her cheek against his chest. “I do.”
His hand stroked her hair. “It will be better than you think.”
It already was, she thought, but she didn’t say it. The fears were gone. Terek had

proven that they were sexually compatible and he would be a thoughtful and tender lover.

Most women weren’t that lucky. Even without love, the mating would work. She’d make
it work.

*

Terek reached the bridge as Feloran was preparing the ship for orbit. “We’re home.”
Dormrela filled the screen. Terek sighed. “Home. God, it’s good to see it.”
“I’ll contact Adania.” Some of the capital city would be thrilled to receive the human

willing to mate with a Dormrelian warrior. Many Dormrelians believed Pasquel’s
progeny held the key to peace with the humans. For Terek’s people, this mating was
much more than a political maneuver.

“I’ll prepare Sierra.” Terek rose and left the bridge. He wondered how to “prepare”

her. All of their discussions had been about Dormrelian politics and her discoveries at the
temple site on Asberek. She still had very little understanding of the social consequences
of being his mate.

For him, the experience of claiming her had been more intense than he’d anticipated.

Her willingness to trust him, to open herself to him, robbed him of his control. He’d
never considered whether he was a good lover or not. It was more important to hone his
diplomatic skills. He’d had experience with lovers who had praised his skill, but perhaps
being driven to succeed in government had made him neglect an important aspect of his
life.

All this seemed shallow in the face of what she was going through. Somehow, he had

to help her adjust to his culture.

She was awake and sitting on the edge of the bed when he arrived at his quarters.

“The ship is in orbit, isn’t it?”

He nodded. “You must be hungry.” Terek pressed the button on the food dispenser.

Would she like Dormrelian food? Most of it was based on water animals. Dormrela was a
damp, hot world compared to Earth or Asberek. Huge bodies of water were the source of
food for much of Dormrelian cuisine.

When he placed the plate in front of her at the small table, she immediately picked

up the twiller he gave her to eat with and took a bite.

“It tastes like fish,” she told him. “And this,” she held up the twiller. “This is

fascinating. What is this called?”

“A twiller. You’re sure the food is okay?” Would she lie to him? She might to spare

his feelings.

“It’s very good. What is it?” She took another bite.
“It’s called Pondo. On Dormrela, they swim in the lakes.”
“You’re worried,” she commented in between bites.
He nodded. “There is so much we didn’t talk about.”
She stopped eating and studied his face. “Tell me what’s worrying you, Terek. I can

handle it.”

“You were not supposed to be alone,” he began and then cursed inwardly when all

the color dropped from her face.

She laid the twiller down and folded her hands in front of her. “I know.”
All those people had been her friends, her companions. They had been willing to

spend an unspecified amount of time on an alien planet to protect her, be with her. They
must have been people she trusted, people she loved. He reached across the table and
took her hand in his. “I’m afraid you’ll be overwhelmed by it all.”

Her lips tightened. “I can do this, Terek. I must.”
She was so brave, so courageous. He’d gotten very lucky. “I am very glad it’s you,

Sierra Pasquel.”

Her smile was weak, but she smiled. “I’m very glad you were the one negotiating the

contract, Terek.”

He snorted. “You haven’t met many Dormrela. You might change your mind.”
Her smile dropped and she glared at him. “I won’t. How could you say such a

thing?”

Ah, so sweet, his Sierra. He held on when she tried to yank her hand away. “We are

a monogamous society. I wasn’t sure how you felt about it.”

She gasped. “Are you saying you think I’ll sleep with someone else while I’m mated

to you?” Her voice was high and shrill.

“Would you?” He asked. It wasn’t like he didn’t know the answer, but he’d never

seen her angry or indignant. Murderous? Yes, when she killed that rebel. Fearful? Yes.
Sexually aroused? Yes, definitely. But it was fascinating to see the color burn her cheeks
and the way her chin rose and her hazel eyes flashed.

“I would not.” She glared at him.
He shrugged. “I thought that with S.E.X in the atmosphere on Asberek—”
“That your people put there,” she put in.
He bowed his head. “Granted. I thought since the chemical created a high hormonal

response in humans to copulate—”

She interrupted him. “It doesn’t affect me.” She shifted in her chair and stared at the

table top.

“The chemical?” He tried to keep the elation out of his voice.
“Something in my father’s DNA blocks the effects of the drug.” She took a deep

breath and met his gaze. “I’m not a virgin, but I wasn’t affected by S.E.X.”

He tried to ignore the shaft of jealousy that shot through him. Who had she slept

with? What other male had touched her. He had no right to feel that way, but he couldn’t
control the momentary anger that swept over him. It took a moment, but he squashed it.
“Which is good,” he commented. “Dormrela’s atmosphere is also filled with the
chemical. It was originally an Ang experiment.” An Ang experiment the Dormrela used
to manipulate human DNA. Whatever the Ang had done to Dormrela, his planet was no
longer innocent. The ancient colony on Asberek showed that. Perhaps what was
happening to his people was retribution for all the dead that could be laid at their door.

“I know that,” she snapped. “What about you? Are you a typical male who wants to

plant his seed in whatever soil is available?”

God, she was stunning. Her shoulders back, her breasts moving from her quickened

breath, her color fresh. He yanked her out of her chair and into his lap. She fought him
but he subdued her quickly. Two of his arms banded around her waist while his other two
held her upper body still. With one hand, he gripped her hair and pulled her toward him.
“The only soil I’ll plant my seed in is yours, Ashani.”

He took possession of her sweet lips and plundered the treasure there. Her strength,

her courage, her passion all belonged to him and he claimed it. She clung to him, her
moan spurring him to deepen the kiss. His cock hardened and he knew he was perilously
close to throwing caution to the winds and taking her right then and there.

But he knew he couldn’t do that.

Her groan of protest when he broke the kiss vibrated through his body and went

straight to his dick. Damn, she was sexy.

“We’ll be landing in fifteen minutes,” Feloran’s voice sounded on his com.
Shit. So much for preparing her. He set Sierra on her feet. “Listen to me. You stay

close to me. Don’t let anyone pull you away and keep hold of one of my hands.” He
cupped her face. “The Dormrela will be both thrilled to see you and curious. It could get
chaotic.”

She licked her lips and nodded. “Then what?”
He brushed her lips with his. “Then, we’ll do a few more trial runs to prepare for the

ceremony. Okay?”

One side of her lips lifted and he wanted to kiss her again. “Okay.”
“I’m sorry we lost all your clothes and personal items, Ashani. I will get you

anything your heart desires.” He held her gaze to show he meant it. Whatever she wanted,
he would move planets to get for her.

She grinned. “I will need clothes. I can’t get mated in this,” she waved her hand over

her coveralls.

“I’ll take care of everything.”
He took a deep breath. This would work. It had to. His people needed her.

*

Sierra’s first glimpse of Dormrela was of tall trees draped in white fog. Moisture

seemed to be everywhere. The air was thick and muggy and dense vegetation surrounded
the landing site. She stepped off the gangplank and immediately noticed the huge crowd
pressed against the barriers around the landing strip.

The mass of bodies pressed forward when she and Terek reached the gates to a huge

complex off to the right. Voices shouted at them. The language was beyond her so she
didn’t know if there was hostile intent or not. She recognized the word Rachlana which
referenced the origin myth planet of the Dormrela. The word Mayania was also called
out.

She tugged on Terek’s sleeve and he bent down. “What does Mayania mean?”
He blinked with all four eyes. She could tell he didn’t want to answer her and he

glanced at the crowd. “It means ‘savior’,” he said quietly.

There was so much she didn’t understand. Terek had explained, in several of their

discussions that his place in Dormrelian politics was as a representative for a section of
the planet’s population. They had discussed the different factions on Dormrela and how
the Balahai, a political group, were making a bid for power. He warned her that her
arrival would incense this group since they were against outside genetic influence. Their
isolationist policy encouraged fringe groups to create problems. Fringe groups like the
Sidharta which attacked her.

He explained the government was a representative government with a council of ten

that held executive powers. Now, as she strode by Terek’s side, she thought she might not
have asked him the right questions. She hadn’t questioned the role of women, probably
because two of the council members were female. She hadn’t asked about sexual conduct
because she hadn’t wanted to discuss how it might affect her personally.

Instead, she’d questioned him on the inner workings of Dormrelian political

structures and the weather.

The weather.

That wasn’t going to help her here. In the crowd, she tried to note the differences. All

of them were four-armed, four-eyed aliens, but what were the differences? The scale
colors varied. Some were a gold green, like Terek’s. Some were a dark green. Others had
purple scales interspersed among the green. She wondered if their thickness varied.

Terek’s scales looked thick, but when he’d made love to her, they hadn’t seemed to

cover his whole body or be as hard as they appeared. In fact, many of her visual
impressions of Terek were at odds with her physical impressions.

The complex was chaotic, with tons of Dormrelian people crowded around their

path. Terek didn’t stop, but gripped her arm and strode through the large area. Another
Dormrelian warrior Terek had called Foleran flanked her other side and kept the teeming
crowd at bay.

A hovercar awaited them and they ducked inside the vehicle, the crowds pressing

behind them.

“Whew!” Foleran breathed a sigh. “I’m glad that’s over.”
“We knew we’d be mobbed.” Terek kept his gaze on the side window, tense, on

guard.

“You’re not going to your house, are you?” Foleran shot a glance at her. “They’ll be

waiting.”

“No. I’m going to use the Forest House,” Terek answered. He put one of his arms

around her. “I have a home in the city, but I thought we could use some privacy. They’ll
be time enough to deal with curiosity.”

“What do you want me to do?” Foleran asked.
“Find out who attacked Sierra. Specifically,” Terek ordered, his tone hard and his

face grim.

“Drop me at the Capitol then,” Foleran told him. He stared at Terek. “Are you sure

you’ll be okay?”

“I have Faseras guarding the property. No one will mess with them,” Terek said and

he grinned. Sierra studied his face. That smile didn’t bode well for whoever might try to
attack Terek’s house. Whatever Faseras were, they weren’t pets.

Foleran hopped out of the hovercar at a large building and saluted Terek. “You know

where I’ll be.”

“Take care, my friend.”
The hovercar lurched forward. Sierra gazed at her future mate. “How do you and

Foleran both know how to speak Earth language?”

For a moment, Terek seemed to freeze, but it passed so quickly, Sierra wondered if it

was her imagination. “There’s always been a section of the diplomatic corps that learned
Earth language.”

He was lying and she knew it. “I see.”
She stared out the window. How were they going to find common ground if he lied

to her? She must have stiffened because Terek sighed. “The entire truth about why some
of us have learned Earth language is something I’m not allowed to reveal. None of us are.
My government is very good at keep its secrets.”

Something in the bitter way Terek said that made her stare at him. He’d kept other

things from her. Somehow, she knew it. So much for the complete honesty he’d
promised. Knowing that didn’t change anything. It just made it all more difficult.

“What are Faseras?” Change the subject. Better to talk about something else.

“They are similar to something on Earth called a “lion”. They are very large, with

long tails and teeth. They have four eyes and elongated fangs.” He tightened his hold
around her. “I have trained them to attack anyone they don’t know. But they’ll know
you.”

“Why?”
“Because you carry my scent. They’ll smell me on you.”
Her face grew hot. “Oh.”
When they reached the Forest House, Sierra was stunned. The trip had been filled

with twists and turns through a dense forest of tall, thick trees. The house appeared
suddenly, as if it sprang up from the ground. It wasn’t an elaborate structure, but simple,
with clean lines and graceful columns.

The grounds in front were lined with a blaze of wildflowers, red, yellow, blue and

white. A maze of trees dotted the front of the house. When the hovercar passed through a
gate, six figures loped out from behind the trees.

Terek’s description didn’t do the Faseras justice. Lions, in comparison, were a bit

boring. These exotic animals were stunning. Their fur was thick and looked so soft she
ached to touch it. Instead of a mane around their head, they had long strands of rope-like
fringes. And they weren’t golden yellow like a lion, but a shimmering green.

When one of them pressed its nose against the plaz, she pressed the button to roll it

down. The animal stuck its nose in her face, snuffling and seeking. She lifted a hand so it
could smell her and it made a whining sound. Then, its tongue shot out and licked her
neck.

“She likes you,” Terek commented.
Sierra gave into the temptation and buried her hands in the fur. It was silky soft.

“What a beautiful animal.”

Its throat vibrated. It was a lot like the purr of a cat, but different, rougher. Terek

leaned in and nuzzled her neck. “She likes you very much.”

“If I pet you, will you make that sound?” she joked and laughed breathlessly when

Terek jerked her away from his Fasera and held her close.

“If you pet me, that is not the sound I’ll make, but I promise you’ll like it.” The dark

promise in his voice sent shivers down her spine. His scent filled her senses. How odd
that an alien would make her head spin.

The hovercar slid forward along the long drive to the front steps. She stayed tucked

in Terek’s arms, marveling at the protective way he held her. Their conversations had
revealed his intelligence, the way his mind worked, but she hadn’t realized he was so
comforting. She should have. After all, he represented his people and the commitment he
had to them had been evident. Why shouldn’t he exhibit the same protective instincts
toward her, his intended mate?

A feeling washed over her, one she didn’t want. She wanted this to be more than an

arrangement. Why couldn’t they have met and dated like anyone else? What a foolish
thought. He was a Dormrelian politician and she was a human colonist. What were the
chances they would have met? Nil. She was stuck with the way things were. They mated
because a treaty demanded they mate, not because Terek had an overwhelming passion to
possess her.

It depressed her.
When they reached the front steps, he released her slowly and she slid away from

him, unable to meet his gaze. One of his hands was warm on her spine as he walked with
her up the large stoop. The house was stark white, but somehow avoided the cold,
esoteric austerity that characterized modern buildings.

The entranceway was tiled with a burnished sandy-colored tile and several works of

art decorated the walls. Beautiful. She gazed around her, unable to take it all in.
Everything seemed to be like Terek—warm, sensual, comforting. The natural colors of
brown, beige and brick red seemed to include her rather than assault her eyes.

“If you wish to make any changes—”
“No,” she interrupted. “I love it.”
“You do?” He seemed stunned. She finally met his gaze and found all four of his

eyes widened.

She nodded. “I do. I wouldn’t change a thing.” Well, not about the décor, she

thought.

“Let me show you the rest of the house.” He hooked her arm through his and

squeezed her hand.

Everything about the house pleased her and she sighed when she spied the workout

room. Terek obviously took his training seriously. That was a plus, since she had no
intention of becoming a helpless, staid politician’s wife.

The bedroom was in the back of the house and she gasped when he showed it to her.

Deep, brown wood had been used to make the furniture, including the bed. The floor was
carpeted with some soft material that made it look like the floor was covered with
feathers.

“The furniture is made from the trees that surround the house. It’s the strongest

natural wood on our planet. It’s called sefter.”

“It’s stunning, Terek.”
He let out a long sigh. “I’m so glad you like it. I wasn’t sure how you would feel

about my home.”

She smiled. “It’s just like you. Warm, solid.”
He stared down at her, blinking. “I—” He stopped. “Thank you.”
Sierra grinned. “Now, about those clothes.”
Terek started and clapped two of his hands together. “Of course. I almost forgot.” He

gripped her hand and yanked her toward the front of the house.

In a small room off the entranceway sat a mound of bags and boxes. He waved one

of his hands over the items. “I called ahead and had these sent.”

She stared. There had to be an entire apartment worth of stuff. The first box had a

personal handheld to replace the one she’d lost. She clicked it on and found Terek had
downloaded books identical to the ones on her old one. He’d also loaded a translation
program for Dormrelian. Tears pricked her eyes. “How do you know what I need?”

“I listened very carefully, Ashani,” he said softly. “I know what you’re giving up.”
Her head snapped up. “What do you mean?”
He cocked his head. “You’ve given up the chance to fall in love, to choose a mate of

your own. This treaty has taken that away from you.”

Her stomach ached. She could read between the lines. There would be no love here.

Great sex? Yes. Perhaps companionship. Yes. Fidelity? It seemed so. But no love. She
glanced away before he read in her face what broke her heart. She wanted that elusive
thing and she wanted it with him. With a Dormrelian.

What a joke.
She took a deep breath and summoned up a smile. “You’ve given me more than I

hoped for, Terek. Please don’t think I feel cheated.” But she did. Not because she
couldn’t date like her sisters or “choose her own mate”, but because it seemed she had
begun to fall for a man who was forced to mate with her for some genetic endgame
commanded by his government.

It wasn’t fair, damn it.
“Sierra?” Terek stared at her.
“What other goodies did you give me?” She whirled away from him, putting distance

between them. What else could she do? They had to make this mating work. He didn’t
need her emotional bullshit.

The other boxes showed Terek’s practicality and his thoughtfulness. One bag was

filled with frilly underwear. She glanced up at him and raised her eyebrows. “A bit
feminine for me, aren’t they?”

“You don’t like them?” he asked her, a crease on his brow.
“I love them, but I didn’t think—” She couldn’t say it. I didn’t think you saw me this

way. These say I’m a woman, beautiful, delicate. But I’m not. I’m a solid, short female
and no one has ever called me beautiful.

His arms wrapped around her. “I tried to choose garments that made me think of

you.” He reached in the bag and pulled out a black, lacy pair. “These reminded me of
your sensuality.” He drew out a second pair, red and sexy. “These reminded me of how
you looked when you came, the way your—”

She covered his mouth with her hand, heat burning her face. “No more.”
His eyes twinkled and he yanked her closer. She melted against him and his forehead

touched hers. It was such a romantic touch, no sexual connotation, but caring and gentle
that tears clogged her throat. She closed her eyes and let the sensation of just being …
held, wash over her.

When his hand removed hers from his mouth and he placed a sweet kiss on the

inside of her palm, she shivered. His gaze met hers. “Are you hungry?”

Hungry? For him? Yes. Oh, for food. Right. “I would love to eat,” she managed to

croak.

Chapter Four

The effort to keep his damn hands off his intended mate strained Terek’s patience,

but he didn’t want their mating to just be about sex. Once she discovered what he really
was, she’d be furious. If their joining was only physical and nothing else, she would
never forgive him. He wanted to offer her more because once she knew the truth, she
might kill him.

He loved the way her dark hair curled around her face and the way her hazel eyes

widened with every new sight in his home. Her curves fitted to his side so easily and he
wanted to explore every inch of her.

When he cooked a traditional Dormrelian dish, she seemed to savor the taste of it. He

adored her ability to dive into a new experience and enjoy it. Several times, he sensed she
wasn’t completely happy with their situation, but she always rallied. He’d admired her
before, when she was just a sexy voice over his com. Now—

Now what?
Across his kitchen table, she seemed right, perfect, as if she had been made for his

home. She fit. Would she want to stay after she found out his secret? Or would she feel so
betrayed there would be no hope for them?

“Now that’s an expression that no woman wants to see,” she said with one of her

eyebrows raised.

He’d been scowling, he was sure. He hated keeping secrets from her. “I was thinking

about a sticky political situation.”

“I’m boring you already?” She shook her head in mock sadness. “I see I’m going to

have to spice things up. And so early too.”

His lips twitched. “How do you propose to do that?”
Her eyes widened. “I could get naked and lie on the table.”
That thought froze him. God, she said it and he wanted it. The vision in his head of

Sierra naked on the table, her dark hair fanned over the burnished wood and her breasts
waiting for his mouth to—

“I see you like that idea,” she said with a smile over the rim of her wine glass.
Vixen. Witch. His gaze narrowed on her face. “I wouldn’t tempt me, if I were you.”
She tipped her glass and finished the dregs of her drink. “Why not? It’s fun.”
Terek knocked his chair over as he shot across the room and yanked her to her feet.

He didn’t give her time to protest or himself time to think. He claimed her, his lips
slanting over hers with insistent passion. He demanded her response. His tongue thrust
inside her mouth, tangling with her, lost in her.

He broke the kiss. “Bedroom. Run, Ashani.”
For a moment, she stared at him. Then, she whirled away and sprinted down the

corridor. Thank the stars it was dark. He had to have darkness to protect his secret.

He stalked her, shedding his illusion as he did. He killed the lights, shrouding his real

form in blackness. The bedroom was completely dark. He heard her panting breath and
followed the sound. His hands discovered her and she yelped in surprise.

There was something primal, almost animalistic, in claiming his woman in the dark.

By sound, by scent, by touch, he found her, stripped her and dominated her. She shifted

in his arms and arched against him, the tips of her breasts hard on his chest. He growled,
a need to possess, to overwhelm her, startling him with its intensity.

He pressed her toward the bed and covered her with his body, his cock demanding

release, but his mind demanding possession. She was downy soft, her sweet curves
tormenting him, driving him to touch her rougher.

Any idea of being gentle flew out the window when her hand clasped around his

dick. He made an inhuman sound in his throat and pulled her hand away. “Keep your
hands above your head,” he ordered.

“Terek—” she breathed
“Do it!” he demanded.
She moaned and lifted her hands above her head. He felt the way her body stretched

with her arms raised.

He scraped his teeth over her skin, starting with her neck and sliding down to her

shoulder. “Don’t move, Ashani.” If she moved, he’d lose control and he wanted to know
every inch of her, every twitch, every crease.

She whimpered when his mouth claimed one nipple and he sucked hard. The taste of

her filled his senses. His fingers sought her damp entrance and the jewel that guarded it.
He flicked her nub, reveling in the way it grew harder under his touch. Her hips thrust
into his hand and she arched her back, shoving her tit further into his mouth.

He switched to her other breast, driving her higher, but never quickening his pace no

matter how much she pushed him.

“Terek, please,” she cried.
He lifted his head and blew a hot breath on her taut nipple. “Tell me, Ashani. Tell me

what you want.”

“I want you to fuck me. Please.” Her body thrashed beneath him.
“I will. But first, I want to taste you.” He dipped his head down and flicked his

tongue over her clit. She sobbed, her hips rotating violently.

He clamped his hands over her hips and held her still. She struggled and squirmed

under his hands. God, he loved that. And he loved the taste of her. He slid his tongue over
her sensitive nub and brought her closer and closer to release. He sucked her clit into his
mouth and she screamed, a rush of cum spilling onto his lips.

The taste of her robbed him of any control and he loomed over her, his cock dipped

inside her pussy. “Tell me what you want, Sierra,” he demanded.

“Terek,” she whispered, her voice cracked.
“Tell me,” he ordered and tortured her with his dick, giving her just a small

penetration.

“Do it. Please. Finish it. Finish me,” she cried.
“Say you’re mine.” He wanted to hear it, needed to hear it.
“I’m yours, Terek. All yours,” she moaned.
He thrust inside her hard and fast, cum boiling up from his balls. The sensation of

her vaginal walls squeezing and her legs wrapped around him spun his senses. He wanted
more. He couldn’t get deep enough, go fast enough, slam hard enough. He lifted her legs,
her feet beside his ears. Frantic, he drove inside her until she took all of him.

Her scream rang in his ears and the warm gush of her sweetness on his cock sent him

over the edge. He streamed inside her, his orgasm going on and on, ripping through his
cock, up his spine and exploding in his head. More. He wanted more. He never wanted it

to end.

Beneath him, Sierra shuddered and trembled. He bent down and pressed his lips over

her face, tasting tears. “Did I hurt you, Ashani?”

“Oh, no,” she breathed.
“I’m so glad,” he said and brushed her lips over hers. “Because I’m not finished.”

* * * *

“Who painted this picture?” Sierra pointed to a beautiful rendition of a forest scene.

The browns and greens blended together creating a peaceful experience. The day had
slipped away as Terek answered questions, showed her his people through books and art.

The evening light shone through the windows and lit up the bruises on her arms.

Terek’s gaze focused on those rather than the canvas Sierra pointed to. “My father.”

“It’s gorgeous. Where is your family?”
“He painted it here about twelve years ago.” Terek evaded the question.
“Will I meet them?”
“Soon enough. Tell me. Did you find the book of Dormrelian poetry I left for you

this morning? If you need any help with the translation, I can help you.” Terek stood in
front of his bookcase and thumbed through his collection. “I think I have a short story
collection as well.”

She stared at his back. Why didn’t he want to talk about his family? “Did your father

write those as well?”

“God, no. My father’s idea of poetry is nursery rhymes.”
“And what do you do? Your father paints. Are you creative? Or are you like your

mother?” She took the shot and his hand froze reaching for a book. The shot had hit
home.

“I am not like my mother.”
The bite in his tone hung in the air between them. Okay. Next subject. “So, we’ll be

participating in the Hadaji, right?” Pretty sad that a discussion about public sex was safer
than talking about his family.

He cleared his throat and removed one of the books. “Not exactly.”
She blinked. “Not exactly? Why in the world is the council demanding a public

display?”

“This is a political marriage. The council demands a public … commitment from

those who marry for political connections.”

“I see,” but she really didn’t. “I’d like to know what to expect.”
“That’s what the trial runs are for.” He smiled and handed her one of the books he’d

obtained.

She shook her head. “I can’t walk into this blind, Terek.”
One hand reached up and stroked her cheek. “You won’t be blind. You’ll be with

me.”

“You have all the answers, don’t you?”
His hand fell back to his side. “No. Not really.”
The silence that followed was painful. Emotional landmines were everywhere and

Sierra didn’t seem to be able to avoid them. “You’re asking me to take a lot on faith.”

“Yes.”
She stared at him. “That’s it?”

He held up his hands. “What else is there?”
Fine. He asked for it. She stepped closer and deliberately set off one landmine. “Who

is Ashax?”

His eyes widened but he didn’t answer. She placed the book on a table and strode

over to the bookcase and didn’t look at him. “It’s funny, but Ashax is a male Dormrelian
name, isn’t it? Yet, I heard you say that name last night in your sleep.” She couldn’t meet
his gaze. A male lover. That would be a big secret to keep, wouldn’t it? Especially if you
were about to enter into an arranged marriage.

Silence charged with something electric, something primal, stretched between them.

She was jealous. It wasn’t difficult to see. He was what? Ashamed? Guilty? Angry? She
couldn’t tell.

“Ashax was a Hadaji lover.” Terek’s voice was low and quiet. “He was one of the

most accepting people I knew.”

She was sorry she’d asked. Her hand clenched on the binding of one of the books.

“What happened to him?”

“Nothing, as far as I know. I haven’t seen him since that year. I suppose I was

thinking of him, since he was a surprise.” Terek’s back was to her when she glanced at
him. “I haven’t had many surprises during the Hadaji.”

“All boring and routine, I suppose.” Okay, so her voice was sharp.
He whirled around and started toward her. She backed up toward the wall behind

her. When he was almost toe to toe with her, he stopped. “What about you, Sierra
Pasquel?” His gaze held hers. “I know they play kinky sex games on Asberek. What
games did you play?”

She tipped her chin. “I only played to win.”
“Is that what you’re doing now?” His tone was gritty, like gravel.
“I’m not playing,” she snapped.
“Neither am I.” He swooped in and jerked her into his arms. “But you didn’t answer

my question.”

How could she explain? “Asberek is different.” She felt heat rush to her face. It was

too embarrassing to tell him that kinky sex was normal on her planet. The things she’d
done when she became sexually active weren’t vanilla, routine sex. She was well aware
she preferred to play a sexual submissive, but would Terek understand that?

“Different how?” His arms tightened around her.
She couldn’t meet his gaze. “We—It’s—” Words wouldn’t come. She took a deep

breath. “Kinky sex is normal on my planet.”

He tipped her face up to meet his stare. “Whatever your past, Ashani, I am yours now

and you are mine. Or do you need reminding?”

Her breath caught and she strained against him, but that only increased the heaviness

between her legs and the beating of her heart. “Yes. No. What are you doing?”

His mouth hovered over hers. “Jogging your memory.”

*

Sore and languid, Sierra stretched her arm out to reach for her lover only to find

empty air. Again? She sighed. It had been the same for the last two mornings. She woke
up alone, Terek gone some time in the night.

The days had been filled with so much. Terek had shown her his library, helped her

learn Dormrelian words, answered many of her questions and listened when she

answered his. Night would fall, plunging the isolated house into darkness and Terek
would drive her wild with his mouth, his hands, his passion.

It should be enough.
Yet, she was so confused about many things. Why hadn’t she met his family? He

evaded answering questions about his relations. Why did the council demand public
mating from them?

Curled up in the bed, she tried to put together the pieces of the puzzle. The Hadaji

was a defiance, a thumbing of their noses at the Ang. The history was so sad. The Ang
had experimented on the Dormrelians, breeding them for their protective scales and
physical strength. When Dormrela broke the Ang hold on their planet, they created a day
of mating to celebrate their freedom from the alien manipulation. The rules were simple.
The lowest caste chose a mate. A man with no family, no money and no rank in society
could sleep with a queen if he chose to.

The ceremonies varied from village to village, but Terek told her the general idea

was the same. The population gathered and the lowest person of rank chose their mate.
Often, odd alliances were formed and social lines were fluid as the result of the centuries
spent honoring genetic freedom.

When Sierra’s father had told her the mating with Terek would be public, she had

believed it was in celebration of the Hadaji. It wasn’t. She checked. The next calendar
celebration was two months away.

So why did the council demand she consummate her mating to Terek in a public

forum? Was it because she was human? Terek gave her no answer.

She rolled over and sat on the side of the bed. Why would he only make love to her

in the dark? Was he repulsed by her appearance? She was human, and thus very different
from female Dormrela. She sighed.

Tomorrow she would face the council and Terek would fuck her in front of them.

She shook her head. It wasn’t going to be easy to forget they were there, but she’d make
the effort for Terek. He had come to mean so much to her. It was a bit frightening. The
last two days had been filled with only him. He revealed very little about himself. She
knew he had a mother. She discovered he once had brothers, though Terek said nothing
about where they were now.

She stepped into the shower, the good feelings from their mating the night before

now gone. The water washed away the last remnants of sleep, but not her worry or her
doubts. Time was against her. She would be mated to Terek before she was entirely sure
what that meant.

But so what? Wasn’t it worth it to save her colony from Earth Central’s domination?

Wasn’t it worth it to free her father from the burden of fighting alone? Her lower lip
trembled and she bit down. It wasn’t that there weren’t … compensations. Perhaps it was
better not to know what Terek really thought. She wasn’t stupid. When a man only visits
a woman’s bed at night, it was probably because he couldn’t look at her alien body and
get a hard on.

She slammed the water off. Enough. Whatever the reasons were for Terek’s

behavior, she’d committed to this mating. Feeling sorry for herself was only going to
make it tougher. For a split second, she wished her mother had come with her.

Well, she could call her mother. Terek had offered enough times. Quickly, she dried

off and dressed. The com was in a room down the hall.

It took a few minutes to make the connection to Asberek, but Sierra almost cried

with relief when her mother’s familiar features appeared on the vid screen. “Mom!”

“Sierra, honey. How are you? I miss you so much. Are you okay?” Her mother’s

black hair streaked with silver and gray eyes filled with warmth looked so comforting and
familiar that Sierra started to cry. “Oh honey. What’s wrong?”

“I’m such a fool, Mom. I thought I could do this but—” she choked.
“But it’s much harder than you thought,” her mom said warmly. “I’m sure it’s harder

without Malek and Andrews.”

Sierra cried harder, her stomach clenched and her throat clogged. “I didn’t know it

would be like this,” she managed to get out.

“Has Terek hurt you?” her mother said sharply. Sierra’s lips lifted in a smile. It was

hard to remember her mom was Dr. Elise Fleming Pasquel, famous for kicking ass back
in the old days.

“No. Terek has been wonderful.” And that was the problem.
“How wonderful?”
“The best, Mom,” she whispered.
“I see.” Her mom frowned and chewed on her lip. “It’s not easy to mate for political

reasons.”

“He’ll only fuck me in the dark,” she blurted out. Oh God. Had she just said that out

loud? To her mother?

“Really?” Her mother lifted her eyebrows. “That’s interesting.”
“No it isn’t. It’s awful. If he didn’t want to be with a human, why didn’t he say so?”

Her lips tightened. It hurt. She couldn’t help it. It was humiliating.

“Has he given you any indication he finds your physical appearance a problem?”
Sierra remembered how he’d kissed her on several occasions during the daylight

hours. “No. No he hasn’t.”

“Maybe there’s another reason,” her mother pointed out. “Maybe he has some

physical characteristic that he doesn’t want you to see and judge.”

“But we’re going to mate publicly tomorrow. I’ll see him then.” She shook her head.

“I’m so confused, mom. There’s more going on here than he’s telling me.”

“Given their history, Sierra, I’m not surprised.” Her mother rubbed the back of her

neck. “The Ang controlled their genetics, forced them to mate according to some plan
only they understood. The Dormrela don’t trust any alien as a result.”

“Is that what the public mating is all about?”
Her mom shrugged. “I don’t know. I know the atmosphere on Dormrela was filled

with S.E.X by the Ang over five hundred years ago. That came out during some of the
negotiations twenty years ago.” Her lips tightened. “There’s a lot of bitterness between
the Ang and the Dormrela. I hate that you’re in the middle of it.”

“Humans have always been in the middle. Isn’t that what you found at the temple?

The Dormrela did their own experiments on the humans on Asberek, the humans the Ang
dropped there.” Sierra shook her head. “What I don’t understand is what they hope to
achieve with my DNA.”

“You’re resistant to S.E.X and your DNA is a precise mix of Dormrelian, Ang and

Human strands.” Her mother bit her lip. “The Dormrela are secretive, so I can’t imagine
what they need.”

“Terek seems very motivated to make this mating work.” Motivated. That was a

good way to put it.

“When you see him tomorrow, it will be too late to back out and he knows it,” her

mom said. “Do you want to come home?”

And there it was. If Elise Pasquel instructed her husband to break the treaty and

bring Sierra home, he’d do it. She could get out of this, but they’d be back to square one
except with much less time before Earth Central arrived to attack the colony.

“No. I’ve made a promise to Terek and I’ll keep it. But is there any way you can

come to Dormrela? If I get permission for you, I mean.”

Her mother smiled. “Absolutely, sugarbeet.” Sugarbeet. Her mom hadn’t called her

that since she was ten. She wiped her tears away.

“Good. I’ll talk to Terek and see when you can come.” She touched the screen and

her mother pressed her fingers to the screen in Asberek. “I love you, Mom.”

“I love you, too. You’re amazing, you know that, right?”
“From you? That’s a compliment.”
“Just the facts, sweetie. Hang in there and let me know when I can come and visit.”
She nodded and switched off the com. It helped to know her mother understood.

Hell, her mother never judged. If anyone could understand being mated to someone
“different” she could.

Sierra straightened her shoulders. Time to get ready to do this. No going back now.

*

He hadn’t meant to listen, but Terek had been captured by the misery in Sierra’s

voice. Elise Pasquel was closer to the truth than she knew. The lies he had told Sierra
were going to bite him in the ass but he didn’t know how to stop what was coming.

Terek knew all about the temple on Asberek. Hell, he should. The Ang had abducted

unsuspecting humans from Earth over a hundred years ago and brought them to Asberek,
another alien population to manipulate and control. The Dormrela, finally free of the Ang
yoke, had built a hidden temple, a place to observe and disrupt the Ang experiments. It
was the Dormrela who released S.E.X into the atmosphere on Asberek. But their limited
understanding caused the human population to die at an alarming rate.

Then, the Ang finished the job. They released a lethal amount of S.E.X into

Asberek’s atmosphere, killing every human and Dormrelian on the planet. It had been a
bloodbath. The Ang waited until the levels on Asberek were tolerable for humans and
then made contact with Earth, dazzling the humans with their advanced technology and
foretelling of the future.

Terek sighed. Not that the Dormrela were innocent in what happened next. The

subversion of Adonis Pasquel with Dormrelian DNA by an ambassador Terek’s
government had sent to spy on Earth, the murders of women deemed possible Ang
experimental DNA subjects and the attempted manipulation of Asberek politics could all
be laid at Dormrela’s doorstep.

The humans on Asberek didn’t know the Dormrela simply sought a solution to a

DNA problem that had tormented Terek’s people, killed them. And because Dormrela
was afraid to reveal secrets long held, they had bungled it.

Terek melted back around the corner when Sierra stepped out of the com room. She

disappeared into the bedroom and he stared after her. What was he going to do?
Tomorrow, he and Sierra would face the council, naked, and have to mate in front of
them. And for what? To prove her loyalty to Dormrela?

Certainly Dormrelian politics placed a heavy emphasis on this public statement of

willingness on Sierra’s part. Most Dormrela were aware that humans did not mate in
front of others. Terek smiled. It confounded the Dormrela. Humans didn’t have sex in
front of their community? How did they bond? How did they maintain sexual balance?

Most of Terek’s people didn’t realize the Hadaji had developed from the constraints

the Ang had put on them. The rigid breeding program and DNA manipulation by the Ang
had driven his people to demand sexual freedom, sexual equality and openness rather
than sexual secrecy.

Most of the time, matings were arranged with progeny in mind, but during the

Hadaji they were free to explore other sexual needs. Everything from masochism, to
same-sex exploration, even multiple partners were up for choice. The council had always
controlled his options, but not because of any breeding program. Just the memory of
Ashax and his rough handling gave Terek a massive hard-on.

Five generations had passed since the celebration had been created, and its origins

were shrouded in ritual. But Terek had learned as much as he could. What had the Ang
done to their DNA that created this crisis in his kind? No one knew. But after years of
study, the Dormrelian scientists were convinced Pasquel DNA would save them from the
debilitating and deadly birth defects that plagued his people.

Considering what Sierra was going through, he hoped it was worth it.
She appeared ten minutes later, her face scrubbed clean, no trace of the tears he’d

heard her shed. His heart ached for her and he wanted to comfort her, hold her. She
smiled at him, a bright, brittle lift of her mouth that didn’t reach her eyes.

He hated himself at that moment.
“What’s the plan for today?” she asked.
“Today, we go back to Adania.” He didn’t want to go back. Everything in him

wanted to stay here, isolated, safe, just the two of them. But duty called.

Her smile dimmed. “Ah. Right. We have to be apart for a turn. What is that?

Eighteen hours?”

“About that.” He wished he could bring her smile back. But the light was gone. He

cursed his government, the Ang, fate. This was going to be painful.

“Well, I’d better pack then.” She started for the bedroom. “Terek,” she said, her

voice hesitant.

“What is it, Ashani?”
“Will you see if you can get permission for my mother to visit?”
His stomach rolled. What had he done to her? What was he going to do to her? He

ripped her from her home, her family. He manipulated her, lied to her and now, he was
going to humiliate her. “Yes. I will get it.”

It was the least he could do. Once she discovered the truth, she’d need someone to

cling to. Because she’d kick him to the curb. Probably by using his groin as the target.

He whirled around, his fists clenched. He’d never felt so fucking lonely in all his life.

* * * *

The ride back to Adania was filled with long silences Terek didn’t know how to

break. He had expected Sierra to be nervous about the ritual mating, but he hadn’t
expected his own anxiety. The few times they spoke were to discuss details. Yes, she
would be the first one to stand before the council naked. Yes, she would be expected to

bend over a ceremonial bench. No, she did not have to be restrained or gagged. Some
couples did employ more … deviant practices when they consummated their mating in
public.

Many outlandish rumors about Dormrelian sexual preferences flew around the

galaxy. Some of them were even true. There were women on his planet who liked to be
restrained, and by the reaction his mate had to some of their nightly escapades, she might
be one of them.

Sierra seemed calm, but her hands were twisted in her lap. The more crowded their

surroundings, the tighter those fingers clenched. Terek didn’t know what to say or what
to do. His stomach churned and he refrained from touching her. He was afraid he
wouldn’t stop at just a comforting hug.

In the silence, he had only his thoughts. If he was honest, he’d admit he was aroused

by the idea of claiming Sierra in front of his council. She belonged to him and he was
staking his claim to prove it. A primitive part of him chomped at the bit to begin the
ceremony despite her fear and the repercussions later.

Her reluctance only spurred him on.
He shifted in the seat of the hovercar. It wasn’t a pretty side of him. Yet, the thought

of his Sierra struggling against him and against her own passion made him hard as a rock.
Fuck. What kind of monster was he?

When they arrived at his home, throngs of people crowded outside of his gate. His

guards lined the entrance and kept the crowd back, but Sierra’s white face made him
wrap his arms around her and press her face to his shoulder.

Feloran was a welcome sight.
“Good to see you, my friend,” Feloran said with a grin.
“You too. What did you find out?” He kept Sierra close by his side, his hand

squeezing her shoulder.

Feloran’s smile faded. “Not much. The group that attacked the Hope of Asberek has

gone underground. There’s not many of them, but they’re a vicious bunch.”

“What do they want?”
“No humans.” Feloran stared at Terek.
They both knew all hell was going to break loose after the public mating the next

day. “Any more attacks?”

His friend shook his head. “No. The only people who’ve caused trouble have been

the Dormrela who want a glimpse of your intended mate.” He started to say more and
stopped.

“What?” Terek didn’t like the furtive expression on Feloran’s face.
“Your mother arrived this morning.”
Sierra’s head shot up and she stared at Terek. Damn it. His mother should have

known better. “Where is she?”

“In the study.” Feloran rushed the next words. “What was I supposed to do, Terek?

She showed up and swept in. I thought it would be better to silence the gossip.”

“Ashani,” he said quietly. “Go with Feloran to your suite. I will come and see you in

a while.”

“Terek, I can handle this.” She frowned. “Are you ashamed of me?”
Ashamed? How could she think that? He was ashamed all right, but of his mother,

not his mate. “No, not at all. I am a very lucky Dormrelian, Sierra. My mother and I have

had bitter words in the past. I don’t want you to have to hear more.”

“She’s against this mating.” Sierra held his gaze.
“She is an isolationist. Her views on alien influence are decided.” He tried to soften

the words.

Sierra nodded and Terek wanted to slam a fist into the wall. It wasn’t right. She was

so alone here.

When she walked away with Feloran, she held her head high. Terek wished he could

explain the irrational fear and hatred alien races inspired on his planet, but he didn’t have
the words. It was only going to get worse.

He strode into his study spoiling for a fight. His mother sat in his large comfortable

chair, her hands clasped around a cup and her gaze riveted on the painting Terek had on
his wall. Yes, she wouldn’t like that work of art. It was another masterpiece created by
Terek’s father, a man much like himself. The rendition of a Dormrelian sunset was
clearly his work and she would know it.

“You’re determined to go through with this.” Her gaze never left the canvas. Dalin

Maji, famous Dormrelian matriarch, mated beneath her station because she fell in love
with Terek’s father, and had never forgiven the lie she became privy to because of it.

Terek knew the story well. Their mating became cold, political and powerful. There

was no warmth there and Terek feared Sierra might reject him as his mother had spurned
his father. Outwardly, his parents were a united front against all political enemies. But
Terek knew the frost that covered their relationship.

Now, for the future of his people, he might be forced into a similar mating. His

nostrils flared. Sierra didn’t have the same prejudices his mother had. Perhaps she would
forgive him for his lies. He had to hang onto that hope.

“Yes, I am determined, Mother. Is that all you wanted? To confirm this?” He and his

mother had barely spoken since his birth. Once Terek had been spat from her womb,
she’d turned her back on him. Why not? He was a product of a mating she regretted
bitterly.

“No.” His mother kept her gaze on the picture. “Where is your father?”
“You know where he is.” Why did she ask? He clenched his jaw. Damn her. Why

did she torture them both like this?

Finally, her dark eyes swerved and she met his stare. “I was not a good mother to

you.”

He shrugged trying to hide the sharp pain that lanced his heart. This was the closest

thing to an apology he’d ever heard from his mother. It just came too late. “You had your
opinions.”

“I blamed you for something that happened over a hundred years ago.” Her hand

tightened around the cup. “I blamed your father for the lies he was required to tell.”

“I know that,” he said wearily. What difference did it make?
“Does she know?”
“No. You know the council forbade it. She will find out just the way you did,” he

said bitterly. “Most likely, she will hate me just as you hated my father. Will that satisfy
you at last, Mother?”

Silence.
What had he expected? A happy family reunion? Sympathy? What? He sighed.

“Mother, I only have a few hours left with Sierra. After the mating, she may never speak

to me again. Please go.”

She rose and placed the cup on the side table. Her dark eyes were soft, an expression

he’d never seen on her face. “I am truly sorry, Terek.”

He turned his back and strode away from the room, his mother and the painting.

Chapter Five

“How long have you known Terek?” Sierra asked Feloran.
The huge Dormrelian warrior grinned, all four of his eyes lighting up. “Almost my

whole life. He saved my life during an Ang raid.”

“An Ang raid?” Sierra had no idea the Dormrela still fought off Ang aggression.
The smile on Feloran’s face faded. “Yes. Up until twenty years ago, they came about

once a year or so to ‘obtain samples’,” he said bitterly. “Terek saved me from abduction
and we’ve been friends ever since.”

“And his mother?”
A shuttered expression fell over Feloran’s solid features. “She is the only daughter of

a prominent Dormrelian family, the Vikerans. I didn’t see much of her.”

“Why is that? She was Terek’s mother.”
“Terek was raised by his father.” Feloran wouldn’t meet her stare. “Didn’t Terek tell

you any of this?”

She shook her head. “He doesn’t talk about his family.”
Feloran cleared his throat and glanced at the door. He pursed his lips together and

met her gaze. “His father is a brilliant painter, well known now. He had three brothers, all
dead.”

“Dead how?”
“Childbirth,” Feloran said shortly. “It was sad, really. The Vikarian family demanded

children. Dalin Maji only gave them one. They let her off the hook after the third one
died.”

“Couldn’t they figure out why the babies were dying?” She didn’t understand.

Dormrelian technology wasn’t ancient or backward. They should have had the resources
to fix the problem.

“They knew why, they just couldn’t fix it.” Feloran glanced at the door. “Listen to

me, Sierra. Your DNA isn’t just some asset we hoped to acquire for the hell of it. It’s
vital. Without it—”

“That’s enough, my friend.” Terek loomed in the doorway. His nostrils flared and his

jaw was clenched. “No more.” There was a definite warning in Terek’s tone.

Feloran sighed. “Right.”
Terek clapped his friend’s shoulder, the tension suddenly gone. He held Feloran’s

gaze. “What is to be must be, my friend.”

“Damn it, Terek,” Feloran snapped. “The whole thing is fucked up.” The Dormrelian

warrior stamped out of the room.

The hopeless expression on Terek’s face made Sierra’s heart twist into knots. Damn

it. What the hell was so bad that Terek assumed she’d walk away?

He stared at her and said nothing for a long time. She didn’t break the silence. He

acted like he was never going to see her again. “Terek, whatever happens—”

“Don’t make promises, Ashani.” He took her hand. “Come with me. I want to show

you something.”

She followed him down a long hallway to a stairway that wound its way up to a large

room. Every space on the walls was covered with various paintings. Several sculptures

dotted the room. She studied the paintings. Many of them were of landscapes, clearly
Dormrela. Gorgeous colors flowed over the canvas like gentle streams. Some of the
paintings were of Dormrelian women. One showed a proud figure with a spear, her cold
gaze staring from the surface. “Who’s this?” she asked but she thought she knew.

“My mother.” He waved his hand. “All of this is my father’s work. He’s quite

famous on Dormrela.”

“They’re beautiful,” she said. Her hand slid over a sculpture of an exotic animal

she’d never seen before. “What is this?” It resembled an Earth peacock, with a fan of
feathers spread. But the rest of the bird looked like an eagle, noble, fierce.

“A tyner,” Terek answered, his gaze also on the figure. “It is the bird of my mother’s

family.” He stroked the neck of the sculpture. “The tyner is a fascinating bird. One of the
most deadly predators, it can kill something twenty times its size. It mates only once, in
contrast to other birds. And both parents raise their young.”

“Terek, why are you showing me this?”
“Because, Ashani, I want you to remember that within the Dormrela lay all the

beauty you see here.” His hand tightened on hers. “When the ugliness of Dormrelian
culture seems too much to take, you can remember this.”

So far, she’d been shot at and kidnapped. Nothing had frightened her more than

Terek’s warning. She stared at the tyner. In a way, it was much like the Dormrela
themselves. Noble, proud and absolutely deadly.

*

Their time ended and Terek had made no attempt to touch Sierra or make love to her.

Promptly, on the top of the hour, eighteen hours before their council appearance, he
bowed low and left her.

Feloran was back and gazed at her with sympathy. “It’s going to be a long eighteen

hours.”

“And you won’t tell me what you were going to earlier, will you?”
The Dormrelian warrior shook his head. “No.”
“Why?” She didn’t understand all this. What were they keeping from her?
Feloran’s took a deep breath. “When the mating is over, Sierra, I’ll tell you

everything.”

“You mean Terek will.” Her mate would explain. Why wouldn’t he?
A shutter fell over Feloran’s face. “Yes, of course. That’s what I mean.” He turned

his back and rummaged through a cupboard. “So, have you ever played Twisted
Dormrela style?”

Sierra shook her head and allowed Feloran to distract her. He was a bit different than

Terek. His four eyes were all the same dark brown color and his scales were a
shimmering green. A long scar marred his upper right arm and she wondered how he’d
gotten it. Feloran never gave her a chance to ask serious questions. Jokes and childhood
stories of the adventures of Feloran and Terek filled the hours until darkness fell.

Finally, Feloran rose. “I should go.” He smiled and turned toward the door. Just as he

was about to leave, he looked back. “I am Terek’s friend, Sierra, but I hope you will
consider me your friend as well.”

“Of course I do,” Sierra said instantly, puzzled.
Feloran seemed about to say something, but snapped his mouth shut and left the

room. Sierra sighed. Terek seemed convinced she was going to find out something to

change her mind about the mating. She shook her head and slid into her pajamas.

It was pointless to try and figure out what that “something” might be. It took a long

time for sleep to claim her.

*

“Wake up, Sierra.” Feloran bent over her, one of his hands on her shoulder.
“Oh shit! What time is it?” She scrambled out of the bed and toward the bathroom.
“The council expects you in an hour. I’ll send in an attendant to help you with the

traditional garment.”

“Right. I’ll hurry.”
A large Dormrelian woman entered the room just as Sierra exited the bathroom, her

heart beating ridiculously fast. Nerves. Damn it. She had to be calm, cool and collected
for this. She was representing the Asberek colony. It was time to show the Dormrela what
Asberek colonists were made of.

The traditional dress for mating was made of green metallic-colored cloth that

resembled Terek’s scales. The neckline dipped low and tied behind her neck halter style.
The skirt billowed around her knees and the material was surprisingly soft and fluid.
Very pretty.

The attendant said nothing, her four blue eyes intent on studying Sierra’s appearance.

Hand gestures showed the Dormrelian wanted to fix her hair. Sierra sat down at the
vanity on the right side of the room and watched in the mirror while the four hands bound
her hair in an intricate style. Intertwined in the brown strands of Sierra’s hair were
greenish colored strings that glowed and shimmered.

In no time, the Dormrelian woman had transformed Sierra into an exotic looking

creature. The woman who looked back from the mirror was a stranger. Sierra stared. Her
make-up emphasized her slightly slanted eyes and the coffee color of her pupils. Stripes
across her cheeks of gold and green gave her face an animalistic appearance.

She smiled at the attendant and took one of the massive hands in hers. The

Dormrelian started and tried to pull away, but Sierra gripped the scaled hand. “Thank
you.”

The woman smiled and bowed her forehead to their clasped hands. “Welcome.”

Somehow, this helped Sierra to face what was coming.

Feloran’s gasp when she appeared was also gratifying. She strode to the waiting

hovercar, her head held high and the crowds cheered. If she was going to mate publicly,
she was going to give them a damn good show.

The council chambers were a circular building in the center of a large complex. Like

spokes to a wheel, several roads led to the center of the group of tall buildings and Sierra
noted every one of the roads was jammed with hovercars trying to gain entrance to the
complex.

“Don’t worry, Sierra,” Feloran said and touched her hand. “The council has ordered

that everyone is to be kept out except for the ten council members, you and Terek. Even I
won’t be allowed in the inner chamber.”

Her nostrils flared. “But I thought this would be publicized.”
“Look. There are the council members. They’re waiting for you.” Feloran pointed to

a line of people. On either side of the walkway to the circular chamber, the council
members stood waiting.

She exited the hovercar and prayed she didn’t trip over her own feet. Luckily, the

traditional mating shoe was an open-toed sandal. Five people stood on either side and
bowed their heads in her direction as she passed them. Surrounded by Dormrelians, she
felt small and insignificant. They were so big, so tall, so muscular. She was short and tiny
compared to them. What the hell was she doing here?

But she was Adonis Pasquel’s daughter. She was no shrinking violet. It took an

effort, but she squared her shoulders and strode up the steps to the chamber, the council
members following silently.

Alone, she entered the chamber. It was stark white with a huge ceiling painted with

several Dormrelian scenes. On one wall that curved to her right, words were carved into
the white surface. On the other side were reliefs of Dormrelian warriors and statesmen,
each bearing the weapons of their livelihood, be it sword or pen.

In the center of the room was a bench. It was waist high and covered with a soft

green cushion. Her gaze riveted on it. This was it. She stopped in front of the bench and
glanced around. The ten council members sat in a semicircle facing her. Their eyes were
calm and she couldn’t read any emotion in any of them.

She knew her part. Her teeth gritted and her stomach tight, she untied the knot at her

neck and the dress pooled at her feet. The cold hit her skin and her nipples tightened. She
kicked off her sandals and slid off her underwear.

Completely naked, she resisted the urge to cover herself and stood proudly. Fuck

them. She was human and she was going through with this. Nothing was going to stop
her from making this treaty work. Not some goddamned fringe group. Not Dormrelian
prejudice. And not these fucking assholes who wanted to watch her get fucked.

She knelt and laid her arms out on the bench, her shoulders pressed against the bench

and her gaze still on the council. Whatever happened now, she had shown her
willingness. Her ass was exposed and she’d proven she wasn’t going to back down.

The door behind her opened and the council all focused on him. It had to be Terek.

She wanted to see him. She wanted to—

Warm hands gripped her hips and Terek’s voice was in her ear. “Oh my sweet

Ashani. We don’t deserve you.”

While he spoke, he clicked a restraint over each wrist. She was shackled to the bench

and couldn’t move. He’d said she wasn’t going to be restrained, but—

She glanced back at him.
No! It can’t be! He lied to her. She’d known he was keeping secrets, but this? Not

this. She wrenched on the restraints, wanting to get away, wanting to hit him.

She opened her mouth and he covered it. “Think carefully. Your words now could

cause the council to cancel the mating and the treaty.”

Tears squeezed out of her eyes. Not this. He’d lied. All this time, she’d thought he

was Dormrelian, four eyes, four arms. But he wasn’t.

He was human.
The bastard was human. Two eyes, not four. Two arms, not four. It was like being

fucked by a total stranger. How could he do this to her?

“Shhhh, Ashani. I know I have no right, but to save your colony and to save my

people, we must do this.”

She noted his cock was hard against the back of her thigh and part of her wanted it,

needed it. She bit his hand and he removed it. “Then do it, Terek. Just get it over with.”

He kissed her neck and his hands slid up to cup her breasts. “Forget them. Forget the

treaty. Forget everything but this.” His fingers stroked her nipples. “Close your eyes,” he
commanded.

One of his hands moved down her belly to her clit and she whimpered when his

fingers touched her. Her breath shortened and she kept her eyes closed. His voice was
gritty and low. “Turn off your mind and let your body remember what it already knows.
You belong to me. That’s all that matters.”

A swirl of sensations swept through her. His fingers on her breast, his other hand

busy with her clit, the warmth of his chest against her back, even the bite of the restraints
at her wrists combined to overwhelm her. Part of her didn’t want this, didn’t want to
submit to his knowing touch. But he played her like an instrument, her mind and body
fighting each other.

His fingers dipped inside her slick channel and she thrust toward them helplessly. He

probed until he found the spot that made her arch and tremble. Lost, she stopped thinking
at all, his touch her only reality. Everything else around them disappeared and only the
sound of his moan in her ear penetrated her senses. His cock pressed along the seam of
her ass and she shivered with anticipation. His hand moved rhythmically, back and forth.
She shattered, her body splintering, her orgasm washing over her.

“Look at me,” he ordered.
She turned her head. For a moment, his blue eyes, the ones with greenish flecks, held

her gaze, blazing with fire. Then, his lips claimed hers in a brutal, possessive kiss. Just as
he thrust his tongue in her mouth, he slid his cock inside her still pulsing channel.

She exploded, another orgasm squeezing him inside her, sucking him closer and

closer. He drove inside her, one hand ripping through the carefully coiffed hairdo to
twine his hand in the loosened strands. She bucked back, deepening his possession, lost.

He took her higher, driving her to the edge. When she tumbled over and screamed

into his mouth, he growled and streamed his release inside her. At that moment,
incontrovertible, unchangeable and unforgettable, she realized she was desperately in
love with Terek.

And he’d lied to her from the very beginning. Gently, he released her mouth. His

hands cupped her face. “You are so beautiful, so brave.”

Her lips tightened. “Get off me. We’re done now, right?”
He blinked and she glimpsed an agonizing pain pass over his face. Then, nothing. He

immediately backed away and undid the restraints.

She stumbled to her feet, already regretting her harsh words. But why? Why had he

lied? It was so stupid. She felt manipulated, used.

Terek said nothing. He glanced at the council and spoke in Dormrelian. She hated

him. He was a cold bastard who lied to her for his own selfish reasons. When he was
done with whatever he’d said to the council, he faced her.

It all swept over her. The nighttime visits to her bed, the “trial run”, the way he’d

agreed to no video during their conversations in the beginning. It was all for him, not her.
He’d been using her, messing with her.

Before she could stop herself, she lashed out. Her hand connected to his smooth

cheek with a loud crack. “Was it fun, you fucking bastard? Did you have a good time
playing games with the stupid alien?”

He winced, but said nothing. Nothing. Tears streamed down her face. “I thought—I

hoped—” she couldn’t say it. Instead, she fled the chamber, naked, cold and humiliated.

*

“She hit you,” one of the council members broke the ensuing silence. Terek had no

heart to respond. He was dead inside. He’d killed something special and for what? For
the survival of his people? What difference did it make if they lived when Sierra hated
him?

“Of course she did, you idiot.” Trust Achlera to make that observation. One of the

two female council members, she would understand Sierra’s rage at the deception.

“Why is she angry?” Padua asked. “He is human. Unlike his mother, she is mated to

someone of her own species. You’d think she’d be relieved.”

“He lied to her,” Achlera stated. “I warned you all that lying would only lead to

problems.”

“But now he can tell her the truth and—”
Achlera’s grey eyes blazed at Padua. “You fool. It is dangerous to play with the

hearts of other beings. Did those centuries under the Ang yoke teach us nothing?”

The other council members gazed at the polished floor. Terek was heart sick. What

could he do? Nothing. It was over. He could only hope that Sierra would keep the truth to
herself. The mating was finished and the treaty would be honored.

“Everything they want,” he said harshly. He gazed at each of the members in turn.

“Whatever Asberek needs, you will give it to them.” He bowed and strode out of the
chamber.

He’d sign up for the front lines at Asberek. The council might protest, but he would

insist. Perhaps, if he died defending her family, her home, she might forgive him.

Chapter Six

“What do you mean he’s gone?” Sierra shouted at Feloran.
“He’s gone to fight with the Dormrelian warriors at Asberek.”
A cold hand gripped Sierra’s heart. To fight? For Asberek? Against Earth Central?

He might die. He couldn’t die.

The Dormrelian blinked. “I’m sorry, Sierra. He thought—” The man frowned,

wrinkles appearing on his forehead. “He told me you’d never forgive him and he’d leave
you alone.”

“What?” She shrieked. “He lied to me, yes, but from what Achlera tells me, the

council ordered him to.”

Feloran nodded. “The Dormrela have kept their human hybrid population a secret,

outfitting all of them with CySuits that mimic the Dormrelian anatomy.”

“But why? Why the secrecy? Why not tell me?”
Feloran sighed. “One, because the council wanted you to be willing to agree to a

mating with their species. They felt it showed commitment.” He held up his hand when
she opened her mouth. “If it makes you feel any better, the council was divided on that
point.” He went on. “Second, because of what your mother discovered at the temple.”

“What are you talking about?” She blinked, confused.
“The formula, Sierra. Think. Kliro told all of you that the formula to change human

DNA to a Dormrelian warrior required human sacrifice. Remember? Hell, you should.
He was going to use your mother’s blood to do it.”

“So what?”
“So, what if Asberek found out some of the humans from long ago were brought

here? Wouldn’t they believe we are using them?”

“That’s ridiculous.”
“Not if you saw the population.”
She stared at Feloran. “Terek’s mother. His dead brothers. There’s something wrong

with the births.”

He nodded. “Babies born with too much human DNA die from the S.E.X in the

atmosphere. Babies born with too much Dormrelian DNA have critical birth defects and
die soon after birth. Very few make it.” His gaze met hers steadily. “But the ones that
survive, the children of both humans and Dormrelians have a greater resistance to
disease, to many biological weapons.” He glanced away. “It was something we learned
from the Ang, something we continued after they were gone.”

“So, that’s why they want my DNA.” It was beginning to make sense. Why Terek

talked about saving “his people”. He meant the human hybrids, not the Dormrela.

“Yes. Our scientists believe that if they replicate some of your genetics in the womb,

the babies will have a chance to survive. They’re even speculating they can save the
babies after they’re born.” Feloran sighed. “The problem is that most of our people don’t
even know the population exists.”

“Why?” It made no sense. Not dealing with the prejudice just made it stronger. “And

how do they hide it during the Hadaji?”

“Most mate within their own group, only revealing their true form to those who

already know.” Feloran glanced at the carpet of the living room. “But some, like you,
don’t find out until they are mated in an arranged marriage.”

“Like Terek’s mother,” she guessed. It fit. Terek had said he and his mother had had

bitter words. And she had “decided views” on aliens. She nodded slowly. No wonder
Terek was convinced she’d completely walk away. His mother had.

“Yes,” Feloran confirmed her thoughts. “Terek dreaded his own arranged marriage,

knowing he might end up with the same cold, loveless mating his parents had.”

“Well, he could have stuck around long enough to find out, instead of running off to

get himself killed.” She gritted her teeth. “Damn it. He should have known better. He
should have known me better.”

“He’s had years to get used to his mother’s bitterness, Sierra, and only a short time to

know you,” Feloran pointed out.

She sighed. “Well, what now? Don’t I have to go save some babies or something?”
Feloran stared at her. She gazed at him. “What?”
He shook his massive head. “I had no idea humans were like this.”
“Well, I am. Let’s go.”
“All right. I’ll take you to meet his father.” Feloran took her hand and tucked it

through his arm. “Terek is a lucky man.”

“Make sure and tell him that, will you?”
Feloran drove her to a remote location several hundred miles from any major city. It

took five hours in the hovercar to get to the settlement where a facility had been set up to
try and deal with the human hybrid difficulties.

Sierra wasn’t an oddity here. Over thirty human hybrids resided on the premises

without their CySuits. Like Terek, they had scales but they were sporadically placed over
their skin. They had two eyes and two arms, like humans. Some were more scaled than
others. The trouble seemed to come with the human side’s tolerance to S.E.X and the
Dormrelian anatomy.

Sierra moved into the compound but didn’t just show up and give blood. She worked

there. Terek’s father, Valid Maji, also worked with the human hybrids. Well, he was one,
after all. Valid welcomed his new daughter-in-law with open arms.

Time passed slowly, however. Sierra waited, as many on Dormrela did, for word on

the men fighting on Asberek. Many of the men who served were human hybrids, loyal to
the Dormrelian government for supporting the search for solutions and willing to help
save their fellow human beings.

Rumors flew. Large casualties on both sides were reported, though no details were

released. Transmissions from Asberek were restricted, though Sierra had been able to
communicate with her mother on occasion. Worry for her father, who led the colonial
government and her sisters, who cared for the wounded, was nothing compared for the
fear surrounding Terek’s situation. Sierra alternately cursed him for leaving her and pined
for him to come home.

Stories from the others at the complex explained Terek’s reluctance to be completely

honest more clearly. Fear was rampant among the hybrids. Fringe groups were more
active, seeking to destroy all alien influence, including humans. Most of the population
believed they would be killed if the Dormrelian population discovered the human
hybrids.

Sierra wished she could disagree. It was pretty clear the hybrid population needed an

influx of fresh DNA. Some of their problems resulted from inbreeding. Her DNA helped,
but she wished her sisters could come and help.

It had been six weeks since Terek had mated with her in the council chamber when

the facility doctor told her she couldn’t give any more blood.

She was pregnant.
Two days after she found out, Sierra had a visitor.
Terek’s mother. Dalin Maji.
The Dormrelian winter was beginning to cool; the surface temperatures and the

sticky heat gave way to a crisp cold. Sierra was lounging at the window of the Valid’s
small house. When she spotted Terek’s mother, it was as if one of his paintings had
stepped out into the real world. The cold, regal expression, the tall slender figure with the
willowy four arms strode toward the walk.

Sierra scrambled from the window ledge and straightened her skirt. Even though she

knew it was coming, Sierra jumped when the knock sounded on the door. She opened the
door and met the woman’s gaze.

“I have come to talk to you,” the woman said. She had a Mechanical Interpreter on

her throat. Sierra had used the device herself and immediately retrieved her MI from the
table.

“Please come in.” Sierra waved her hand toward the living room.
Valid wasn’t an acquisitive man, so the furniture was sparse and simple. The artwork

in the little home was stunning, however. Sierra loved it. It certainly wasn’t as palatial as
Terek’s home, but it was comfortable.

Dalin Maji didn’t look comfortable. All four of her hands were twisted together and

she sat ramrod straight on the couch. “I do not know how much my son has told you.”

Sierra shrugged. “Nothing. Terek was ordered by the council not to speak. I found

out the details from others.”

The woman cleared her throat. “Is it true that Terek is fighting on Asberek?”
“Yes.”
“Why?” Finally, the woman met her gaze. “Have you rejected him?”
Sierra cocked her head to the side. “You sound … offended. Yet, isn’t that exactly

what you did?”

“Nonsense,” the woman snapped. “Terek is mostly human and so are you. There is

no reason for you to reject the mating.”

“Except that he lied to me. That I’m part of a lie and I can’t reveal what I know. How

can there be love without honesty?” Sierra said the words, but her heart denied them.
Whatever lies Terek had told her, she loved him. Apparently, there could be love without
honesty.

“I once thought as you did. Worse, I believed I’d been forced into an alien alliance

with an inferior race.” The woman admitted. “But it wasn’t the human DNA that killed
my sons. It was their Dormrelian heritage that caused their deaths.” She gazed at Sierra.
“I have come to plead on behalf of my son.”

Sierra stared at her. “What can you possibly say that will change my mind, provided

you know it?”

“I don’t presume to know your mind, but I have come in hopes of … healing the

breach. A breach I caused.” The words were delivered so stiffly, so coldly, Sierra
wondered if the woman really meant them.

“The government ordered the lie. How are you responsible for this breach?”
“Because if not for me, Terek would have fought to keep you by his side rather than

fight in some skirmish on a human colony.” Her lips tightened. “His father tried. For
many years, Valid tried to convince me, love me.” Tears gathered in the woman’s eyes
and she blinked them away. “I rejected him and I rejected Terek, believing I’d been
tricked and deceived. I could not forgive. And when I realized how empty my coldness
made my life, it was too late.” She took a deep breath. “I came to beg you to find it in
your heart to forgive him, to fight for you to stay since he will not.”

Sierra’s lip trembled. “You would do that for him?”
“I love my son. I loved his father. My pride has deprived me of both.” The woman

tilted her chin. “I will not let it deprive my son of happiness.”

On impulse, Sierra reached out and touched Dalin. “I have no intention of leaving. I

am his mate. Regardless of our start, our children will grow up with both parents.”

The woman blinked. “You’re pregnant?”
“I am.” Sierra smiled. “A baby that will be born with strong DNA to resist the

chemical in the atmosphere and the anatomical deformities that have been so painful.”

Tears fell from Dalin’s eyes. “Thank you, Sierra Pasquel.”
The woman rose and wiped the tears away quickly. Sierra laid a hand on her arm.

“Must you leave? Stay. I’ll make you elach.”

“No. I should go before—”
“Dalin!” Valid Maji framed the door. Even without a CySuit, Terek’s father was a

big man. Muscular, like Terek, but his scales were a darker green. His gaze was riveted
on Dalin’s face.

“Valid.” Dalin cleared her throat and looked anywhere but at the man blocking her

escape. “How are you?”

“Shocked to see you here,” he said. “What brings you here?”
“She came to plead on Terek’s behalf. She begged me to stay.” Sierra was surprised

to see a flush cover the scaled surface of Dalin’s cheeks.

“Did she now?” murmured Valid. “Tell me, Dalin, will you stay for dinner?”
Perhaps the woman had thought about saying ‘no’, but Valid stepped closer,

crowding her. Sierra could see her throat move when she swallowed. Her gaze shot to
Valid’s face. “Dinner?”

Valid’s hands slid up Dalin’s upper arms. “Dinner.”
Sierra slipped out of the room as quietly as a ghost.

*

Almost eight weeks of hell and Terek was finally home. Earth Central had been a

stubborn opponent, but the combined forces of Asberek and Dormrela finally drove them
back. It hadn’t been pretty. Several of his comrades were dead.

Why had he survived? Who knew? He’d signed up because he didn’t care if he lived.

Life without Sierra wasn’t worth living. But in the middle of a sticky hand-to-hand fight,
Terek realized he wanted to live and he wanted Sierra.

He’d watched his father plead with his mother, begging her to stay. Love hadn’t been

a pleasant experience for Valid Maji. Yet, Terek knew his father still loved Dalin Maji
with all his heart. When it happened to him, he’d determined he wasn’t going to beg.
Sierra would leave and Terek would move on. But now, he planned to convince her
somehow to stay with him.

The only problem? He was arriving on Dormrela just as the Hadaji was about to

begin. That meant it was Sierra’s choice first. As a human alien on Dormrela, her status
was lowest.

When he arrived at his house, his heart stuttered when he found no sign of Sierra .

Had she gone back to Asberek?

“Welcome home,” Feloran shouted from the front door.
Terek rushed to his friend. “She’s gone. I have to go after her. She—”
Feloran grinned. “She’s at the complex, staying with your father.”
Stunned, Terek stared at his friend. “What the hell is she doing there?” He ran an

impatient hand through his hair.

“Giving blood. She called me a few hours ago though. She’ll be home today.”

Feloran headed for the door. “Tonight’s the start of the Hadaji, so she knew she had to
come. She’s pretty smart, isn’t she?”

“I’m completely confused.” What the hell was going on?
The smile dropped from Feloran’s face. “That’s pretty clear, my friend. Let’s just say

that you’re a very lucky man.” And he was gone.

Had Sierra forgiven him? It was hard to believe, given how angry she’d seemed after

their public mating.

Slowly, he prepared for the Hadaji. His past participation had been fairly shallow

and carefully orchestrated. Hell, his partners had been handpicked by either his father or
the government. To keep their great secret, the council thought nothing of arranging his
love life to suit them.

For the first time, he wanted a woman to choose him. And for the first time he wasn’t

sure she would. He remembered the one time he’d been chosen by a male Dormrelian
warrior. Some political maneuvering had resulted in his alliance with Ashax and it had
been … memorable. It was part of the celebration he’d personally enjoyed.

That was what the preparation was all about. Thinking about past encounters and

anticipating the chase made him horny as hell. It was a gift, a happy time of freedom.
There were no judgments, no moral constraints for the next three days.

Terek had observed other cultures. He knew same-sex liaisons were often frowned

upon because of it was a genetic dead end. He had seen masochism, sadism, and
domination viewed with shock and raised eyebrows.

Perhaps it was because his people had been forced into breeding programs, or

because their sexual orientation was decided by an outside influence rather than their
internal feelings, but the Dormrela allowed all forms of sexual activity.

Except with aliens.
Was all that about to change? The whole planet knew he was mated to a human.

What would that do to the attitudes of people on his planet?

Later. He’d think about all that later. Now was the time to remember the sensation of

touching his mate. He needed to remember the way she smelled, the way she tasted, the
sound of her cries.

He showered and touched himself, his cock hard as an iron bar. Two months in space

and he hadn’t relieved himself once. At first it was because he wanted the last thing he’d
dipped his dick in to be his mate’s sweet pussy. Then, it was because he wanted it to be
the next place he released his seed.

The stroke of his hand only served to increase his anticipation. He could only hope

she wouldn’t torment him too much. If she chose him at all. She had to choose him. He’d
challenge any man before he’d let someone else have her. He dressed carefully. A loose
black tunic and black pants over his CySuit. He didn’t want anything confining. After all,
he was going to be running like hell.

He rubbed his hands together. If Sierra chose him, how hard would it be for him to

lose her? Most of the females who chased him often lost sight of him, but human hybrids
on Dormrela were talented trackers, their sense of smell heightened by sexual arousal.
Dormrelian DNA gave the hybrids this talent. Did Sierra have it?

The chase was the most arousing part of the Hadaji. The adrenaline, the increased

heart rate, the very act of being pursued sent his system into sexual overload.

He took a deep breath and stepped outside his front door. Each member of the

population was assigned a designated meeting place. In a big city like Adania, they had to
split it up but they took requests from choosers so that they could get the one they
wanted. It took a tremendous amount of arranging, but the Dormrela would do whatever
it took to reinforce the power of choice.

His area was already packed with people. Several he recognized as hybrids were

there in their CySuits, ready to choose or be chosen. But where was Sierra?

He glanced around the crowd, desperate to see his mate, but it was difficult to see

anyone in particular. She should have stood out, a small human among the massive
Dormrela, but he didn’t see her.

“Attention fellow Dormrela,” the computer announced. “Five hundred years ago we

broke the power of the Ang over our people. We are free. Free to choose. Free to love.
Free to mate with whom we want. Be free. Come alive and remember the sacrifice of
those who died to free us from the Ang domination.” The voice grew louder, firmer.
Terek swelled with pride. His mother’s family had been part of the rebellion five hundred
years ago. It was in his blood.

“Please form the circles of our ancestors, the two strands, closed and complete.”
They all knew how to do this. One circle was formed by the higher caste, those

designated to be “chosen”. The other circle touched the first and was made up of the
lower caste, or those allowed to choose. They all knew their place in the circle.

He glanced at the other circle and his breath caught. There she was, her long black

hair tumbling over her shoulders and her sweet curves clothed in a tight tunic and pants.
She was leaner than he remembered. He barely heard the rest of the announcements, the
dedications to the dead, the prayers for progeny to carry on their traditions. He gazed at
Sierra.

At some point, she met his glance with a smoldering stare. There was something …

dangerous about her. He remembered suddenly she’d mentioned that her father insisted
on her training including tracking and combat. The vision of Sierra holding that blaster
and destroying her kidnapper floated into his mind. And his cock grew harder, tenting his
loose pants.

The circles were completed, a physical representation of the DNA strands of their

ancestors, the original people who began life on Dormrela all those centuries ago.

Since Sierra was an alien on Dormrela, she was technically the lowest caste present

and chose first. The level of anticipation rose among those in his circle. He thought he’d
smell something akin to disgust or even fear when Sierra stepped into the center of the
circle. Instead, he smelled arousal, definite interest. It made him growl inside. This was

his mate. She belonged to him. These others were not made for her. He was.

When Sierra approached another Dormrelian warrior, Terek tensed. It was that

moment, he realized the male she approached was Feloran. Feloran? He clenched his
fists. Damn it. She wouldn’t, would she?

Sierra stepped closer to Feloran and ran her hand over his upper bicep. Feloran’s

gaze glittered in the muted evening light. Terek made a low growling noise before he
could stop himself. His whole body was tight, resisting the urge to fling himself onto
Feloran.

When Sierra studied Feloran from head to toe, Terek gritted his teeth. He was going

to kick Feloran’s scaly ass. If she chose Feloran, Terek would challenge. It had been
years since that had happened but Terek wasn’t going to let his mate fuck another male.

She stepped away from Feloran and Terek released the breath he’d been holding.

How much more torture would she put him through? She studied each male in the circle
and drove him insane. By the time she reached him, he barely had a grip on his control.

His cock leaked precum when she stepped in front of him. Her gaze traveled from

his toes and lingered on his cock, now leaving a wet spot. She inspected every inch of
him and met his gaze.

Her hand reached out and stroked his aching cock. He groaned and closed his eyes.

The sensation of her fingers sliding over his hard length made his hips grind into her
hand.

“I choose this male,” she announced. Then she stood on her tiptoes, her lips next to

his ear.

“Run, Terek. Run like hell.”
From behind her back, she produced a flogger and snapped it on the open palm of

her hand. He held her gaze for a moment, trying to gauge if she was serious. But when
the strands of the flogger slapped against his torso, he got the hint.

He exploded away from the circle and sprinted out of the area with Sierra close on

his heels.

Chapter Seven

He was going to pay. Sierra kept her grip on the flogger as she tore after Terek. Eight

weeks of torture, of wondering if he was going to come back alive, of being without him,
had been the worst time in her life. She was going to make him suffer.

And he was going to love it.
Their relationship had always been set by his terms, not hers. Even when she thought

she’d been in control, she wasn’t. But now, the Hadaji gave her complete control. Her
Dormrelian DNA increased her senses and she tracked her mate by his unique smell.
Imprinted on her very soul, his musky scent filled her as she sprinted across a large street.

She was vaguely aware that others ran around her, some being caught and fucked

right in the middle of the wide lane. But her quarry was quick and talented. He tried to
befuddle her with the strong scents of surrounding vegetation that grew around the city
streets. But she was focused on her mate. She was going to find him and make him suffer
for leaving her.

His scent led her toward a strange section of the city she’d never seen. Some kind of

park? Perhaps. He wove in and out of the trees. She followed him relentlessly, her
arousal, her need for him spinning out of control. She was pregnant, but that thought
barely penetrated the fog of need, the intense desire that flooded her system. Something
about the ritual, the game, spun her out of control and brought out her basest desires.

She spotted him ahead, still in his CySuit, using the bottom arms of it to propel him

faster through the park. She sprinted after him. She wasn’t going to let him ever say he
“let” her catch him. Not only was Terek never getting away from her, but he would
always know she caught him, dominated him, even if it was only this one time.

Damn it. She’d lost him again. She sniffed the air, her increased sense of smell

picking up the smell of his arousal, his sweat.

Again, he tried to confuse his scent, but she let out a grunt of satisfaction when she

found the trail again. He’d circled back through the thick vegetation, but she had him
now. The tracks were fresher, the scent stronger.

She burst through a thick brush and he was just ahead of her. He made the mistake of

glancing backward and stumbled. She launched her whole body at him.

He grunted when she landed on his back and he hit the ground. She spun him around

and before he could catch his breath, she claimed his lips. He growled against her mouth
and thrust his hips toward hers.

To her surprise, he tossed her away from him and bounded to his feet. She caught her

breath and he took off. She laughed, exhilarated, thrilled with the chase. No one wants an
easy quarry. But now, he knew she could catch him.

This time he didn’t try to cover his tracks. He led her directly back to their home.

She caught him just inside the door and tackled him. He slipped on the polished floor and
twisted to wrap his arms around her before they hit the floor. She didn’t wait. She
grabbed his hair and pressed her lips against his, her tongue demanding entrance.

He groaned and tightened his hold, his mouth open for her. Their tongues tangled

and twisted in an erotic dance of delight. She yanked on his hair and broke the kiss long
enough to demand, “Get this fucking suit off now.”

One of his hands slapped a button and the CySuit folded away, leaving Terek

exposed to her inspection. He was still flat on his back with her body draped over his.
Sierra leaned back to study him, her flogger dangling from her right hand.

Gold greenish scales still dotted his skin, but the rest of his body was smooth. He had

two eyes, both blue with greenish flecks that danced. She loved the lean hard muscles and
the way his eyes blazed as he met her stare. As a Dormrelian warrior, he’d been
overpowering, overwhelming. As a human, he was still dominating, his muscles bulging
as his hands clenched on her hips.

He was hot. Completely fucking hot. She shifted her hips and he groaned. The lights

blazed in the hallway and she loved it. No more darkness. No more blind sex. She was
going to see him, really see him while they mated.

“Sierra,” he whispered. “Ashani.”
She lifted her body off of his and his eyes widened. She snapped her flogger against

his belly and reveled in how his eyes narrowed to slits. “I have … plans for you.”

He lifted his body up and leaned on one elbow. “Oh? Do tell.”
“Up. You belong to me. I chose you.” She kicked him lightly.
When he stood up, she had to tip her head up to hold his gaze. His eyes twinkled and

she glared at him. “Now what?”

“That way,” she nodded toward their bedroom. She had a few surprises for him

there. He strode down the hallway, sauntering really. She snapped the flogger at the back
of his legs and he whirled around to growl at her.

She smirked. “Go ahead, big boy. Let’s see where this goes.”
He stalked her, and pounced toward her, but she twisted away from him. She flicked

the strands of the flogger around his torso. He hissed in a breath and glared at her.
“Having fun?” His voice was deep and grating.

She licked her lips. “Actually, I am. For once, we’ll do this my way,” she said and

snapped the strands around his hips.

“What way is that, Ashani?” He stepped closer and she resisted the urge to step back.
“Fast and hard.” Her blood heated at the expression on his face. Something primal

emanated from him and she caught the scent of him, stronger, potent. “Maybe we won’t
make it to the bedroom,” she murmured.

The words were barely out of her mouth when he pounced on her. She tried to twist

away, but he pressed her against the wall, his naked body covering hers. “I don’t think we
will,” he said in a low tone.

No amount of squirming helped and she was trapped, the wall at her back and his

unforgiving body blocking her. Her hands came up to push him away, but he was like a
steel door, unmoving and solid.

He swooped in, his mouth colliding with hers and demanding her response. She

resisted, fought him, sending him into a frenzy. His hands were rough, uncontrolled when
he ripped the tunic, shredding it into strips of worthless material. She gasped when her
bare skin contacted his and groaned when one of his hands yanked down her pants. All
the while, his mouth slanted over hers, his kiss possessive and unyielding.

The hard wall against her back and his hot skin on hers made her head spin. She tried

to escape, suddenly overwhelmed by her need, her connection to him. Terek was her
mate and she’d chosen him, but her emotions were clouded and confused.

Terek seemed to sense her pain. His touch softened, his mouth cajoling rather than

commanding. He lifted his head and met her gaze. “I missed you. I was like a moon
without its planet, wandering and aimless.”

Sierra blinked away tears. “And I was like a star without its heat, cold and lifeless.

Terek, I love you. You, not the shell on the outside. I love the man who has been so
gentle, so kind. I love the man who has sacrificed everything for his people. Most of all, I
love the man who came back to me.” Her hands clasped his face. “I love you.”

His lips touched hers gently. “Ashani, my love, my mate. I love you with all my

heart.”

She wrapped her legs around his waist and shifted to slide her breasts against his

chest. “Love me, Terek,” she pleaded. “Please.”

When his arms banded around her, she melted. He took possession of her mouth, his

tongue dancing with hers. She groaned when he broke the kiss and lifted her body so he
could pay loving attention to her breasts. Her pussy clenched and she arched her back
leaving evidence of her desire on his skin. She cried out and dug her fingernails into his
shoulders. He lifted his head and watched her. His fingers sought and found her sensitive
nub. He pressed her against the wall, his thumb rotating over her clit.

She grasped at his shoulders and thrust her hips toward his hand. So close. So close.

And then, he slid two fingers inside her, his thumb still pressed against her clit. She
exploded, every muscle tight, every sensation flooding through her. Her head bumped the
wall when she jerked against his hand. Her whole being was flushed with fire and need.

When she finally opened her eyes, his gaze was still focused on her. His blue eyes

glittered. “You are stunning when you come. I hated that I couldn’t see you. I want to see
you come again and again.”

Her vaginal walls clenched at the thought and he shifted his fingers. She groaned,

more ripples washing over her. “Terek,” she whispered.

He yanked his fingers out and lifted her, using the wall as leverage. “I can’t wait any

longer.”

He impaled her and she screamed when her climax rushed through her again. He

thrust inside her, his hips relentless. She could only receive what he gave her. She hooked
her ankles together at the small of his back and met each of his thrusts with one of her
own.

Pressure built and she panted for breath. She kept her eyes open, riveted on his face.

She, too, had been deprived. She wanted to see the desire, the need, the aching intensity
on his face that she felt. It was all there. The planes of his face were sharp and angled
with desire and his eyes shone with passion. She reached up and cupped his face.
Immediately, his face changed. Desire still dominated and fire flushed his skin, but a
beautiful tenderness softened his eyes.

Her pussy clenched around him and he groaned. “Ashani,” he whispered.
She leaned up and captured the lobe of his ear in her teeth. “Do it, Terek. Please,”

she begged.

He growled and shifted his hips until he slipped deeper inside her and she gasped.

Harder, faster and deeper he slammed his cock inside her until the pressure became
unbearable. She sobbed, reaching for that unnamed goal, that release of energy they both
craved.

And then, she was there, flying over the edge, her breath completely gone. Terek

shouted her name and exploded inside her. The force of his release sent her reeling into

more convulsions, more explosions. She shuddered and shook against him. His forehead
rested against hers and his breath came in harsh gasps. She was barely breathing at all.

Fire flooded her body and barriers dropped. Connection, like an electric current,

sizzled between them. Something changed.

His thoughts were hers. Her thoughts were open to him.
In an instant, she was swamped by his disjointed musings, how he loved her, how he

needed her. She was his Ashani, his soul mate. His childhood, so cold and distant,
compared to the warmth he had with her.

Terek, what’s happened? She thought the question and his head shot up, his gaze

locked with hers.

I didn’t think it was possible. But he’d hoped it was. She caught that thought.

Something to do with the Hadaji, a change in the air, an added element that increased
production of a chemical in the Dormrelian sperm. Something that created a bond with
one’s Ashani.

“You knew. You called me your Ashani that first time,” she said out loud. He’d

never doubted, never wavered. From the moment he touched her, he’d claimed her as his
soul mate, regardless of their differences.

His thoughts twined around hers. I knew, even if we were never Bonded like this, that

you were the key to my lock, the white to my black, my soul mate.

She delved deeper, discovering the conflicts, the agony of his decision to deceive

her. The Bond made her privy to it all. The way his mother had been Bonded with his
father, but rejected the connection. It had hurt his father so much that Terek had been
afraid of it, reluctant to find his soul mate as a result. She cradled his head and held him
close. I love you, Terek. With all my heart.

His mental touch was gentle, almost hesitant. He stepped carefully, always

considerate, always putting her first. But she wasn’t afraid. He belonged to her. She drew
him in, revealed it all, let him see who and what she was and how she felt.

You’re pregnant! He trembled and his hands shook when he tipped her head back

and pressed his lips to her. My love, my mate.

We won’t be able to deceive the world for long, Terek. The secret will come out. She

thought it and he echoed it. This wasn’t news to him. She caught glimpses of council
meetings where he’d said exactly the same thing.

Now that we have an alliance with Asberek, we can begin to show our true face.
She shifted her body to keep him close and felt his cock harden within her. You’ll

need more than just my DNA. Her sisters. Would they be willing to help? She didn’t
know.

It will take time for both humans and Dormrelians to accept. We have an ally with

the council, however. My mother.

She loves your father very much. How did you know?
Little that my mother does escapes notice. Something warm and sweet flowed from

Terek. He was pleased that his mother and father had found each other again.

There is something to be said for being commanded to mate. Sierra leaned forward

and scraped her teeth on his neck.

He groaned. Yes, there is.

The End

About the Author:

Once upon a time, there was a little girl…
I loved Harlequin romances when I was little and used to sneak them from my

mother’s bookshelf. But my father influenced me with Agatha Christie, Ngiao Marsh and
Arthur Conan Doyle. I always loved to write but never thought about becoming an
author.

In 2003, a profound experience changed that. My mother showed me a manuscript

written by my father. No one had ever seen it. No agent. No editor. No one. He died in
2002, never realizing his dream to be a published author.

I wondered if that would be my fate. Would my family come across my attempts at

story telling and shake their heads in pity? I vowed that I would at least try.

It has been a fabulous journey creating new worlds and exploring new emotions. As

you’ll find out, I have a special relationship with my characters, who both annoy me and
inspire me.

I love reading romance, especially erotic romance, and wanted to take a shot. It

turned out that writing erotic was as much fun as reading it. The more I write, the further
I want to go.

I live with a Redneck, who loves to brainstorm with me on occasion, and my two dirt

faced Okie kids in the Northern California Boonies. And I write all my love scenes with
Thomas the Tank Engine in the background.

Bitter Gold

Mima

Author’s Note

This story is inspired by Rumpelstiltskin as recorded by the Brothers Grimm,

featuring a woman with an impossible task and a man with a secret name.

Dedication

To all parents who read to their children

Chapter One

Nanda Jurisdiction
Waystation Burlin
3010

It was Tewsday. He’d come by the shop today. Liese slid her tan station coveralls on,

humming her personal melody of happiness. Adding the green stone to her pocket made
her ready. She grinned through the morning jostling at her barracks and stopped for a
special treat of fresh juice at the greenspace.

While waiting in line, her song muted with a shiver. Several alfen glided by, heading

toward their enclave. The beautiful people in their beautiful red clothes with their
beautifully glittering bodies smiled and waved to the whistling waystation citizens. Four
Troth guards surrounded them, moving mountains of blond, godlike muscle. So wrong.

The nutty idea tossing in her head for the last few weeks leapt into focus like a

symphony. So right. Scary, but right. Tell him. Just offer. Her daring concept lifted her
spirits as the elegant trio passed out of sight. She tapped her toes while she took the
public glider to the carb-deli where she’d worked for four years. The rhythmic thumping
of the crusher added a bass to the jaunty internal nonsense singing in her blood. While
she went over the nightshift’s output, she smoothed her hair. Tell him. Just offer.

At ten on the dot, she opened the storefront and put on her hat. It was an antiquated

affectation the boss liked, vaguely shaped like a cupcake and pink. The other carb-deli
workers loathed it, but she secretly thought it was charming. He didn’t seem to mind.
Sure enough, he entered the shop five minutes later. There weren’t even any other
customers. She stood up straight.

“Hi. What can I get you?” It was the same thing she asked every client, yet somehow

an essential thread of hope crept into her words.

He glanced at her over the shimmering white laser counter. “Good day, Liese.

Twenty boxes of crisps and fifty packs of wafers, please.” The same thing he’d said every
week for the last year, with the occasional special request.

She opened the cooler and began to stack his order. It wouldn’t do to have it ready

beforehand, because then she couldn’t talk to him. She smiled at him. “It’s nice to see
you.”

He blinked at her, his dark face and eyes neutral. Whenever she gave a remotely

personal opinion, he didn’t respond. It didn’t keep her from sometimes venturing into the
truth. She was an idiot that way. He was about the most exotic thing she’d ever seen in
her twenty-five years on this small waystation. After all, his race had a small population
and usually ran in much more important circles. Circles that included kings and prime
ministers. The cream of the crop. This schwarz was only here because he was an alfen
slave.

She bent in and out of the cooler, bringing up one box at a time. “You should go see

the ravari freighter that pulled in a few days ago. It’s a beauty.”

He shook his head. “Their supplies list won’t take me by the bays today.”
She paused, her smile dimming with the reminder of the rigid life he endured. Tell

him. Just offer. She opened her mouth, but the words wouldn’t come. Her jaw worked a
moment and he looked at her curiously.

“Would you like me to take a picture of it? I can show you next week.” She cringed

at her cowardice. Whenever she saw a problem, her first instinct was to offer a solution,
develop a workaround. Oh yes, she had an idea that could end his slavery. She just had to
install some decent plating and speak up.

He glanced away, at the list of specials tacked to the carb-deli wall. “Don’t go out of

your way.”

After initial weeks of failed conversational topics ranging from his family (one

brother), his incredibly broken nose (the schwarz didn’t believe in plasticene), and places
he’d traveled (dozens of planets in four jurisdictions), she’d hit on mentioning ships. He
loved ships. There was definitely a spark of interest in his black, long-lashed eyes when
he talked about the strengths and weaknesses of the various races’ space craft. What had
been a minor curiosity for Liese had quickly become a research topic ensuring a
connection with him.

“You don’t really want to see her? Ah. You must not approve of the specs then. I

know she’s not that maneuverable, but she’s got stunningly original lines.” She teased
him with a grin.

He looked down at his feet. He was dressed in black, shot through with gilt threads.

It was spent gilt, devoid of the vibrating hum of the addictive shit. It was still pretty,
though, with a subtle yellow glitter. The fabric of his custom-fitted business shirt and
slacks was worth more than the carb-deli itself. Not to mention those wild niffle shoes
with their pointed, upcurling toes. The outfit suited his dark brown skin and smoothed
over his intensely muscled form. He looked amazing in it, confident and self-possessed.
Which of course was true, but not his whole truth.

He looked back up at her and his eyes seemed flatter, more distant. Yet he gave her a

rare personal tidbit. “I don’t need the picture. I used to fly on a ravari.”

Standing just a bit shorter than her average midlander height, he was built compactly.

His shoulders were broad, his ribcage thick right down through his hips, his legs powerful
pillars. His arms mounded with muscle, and his wide neck went up to a strong jaw topped
by heavy brows and a shock of thick black hair that never lay flat.

Ripping her gaze from the fascinating scar that ran from the tip of one eye to the side

of his mouth, she said, “It’s the Frith. Was she your old ship?” She’d call the red-brown
of his lips rust, but the term implied a frailty that his full mouth certainly didn’t have.

“No. Not the Frith.”
She nodded and continued to lift boxes. For a moment, a wild sequence flashed

through her mind. Her rushing importantly to the ship in her pink shop hat, contacting a
powerful trusted friend who could deactivate his slave clamp and take him away. But no,
not a likely solution. Her idea was wild but she knew the legality of it was sound. Tell
him. Just offer.

His smooth voice continued, “You’re right, they maneuver like a pregnant hoovi, but

coast with a majesty few others achieve.”

Smiling that her research had paid off and she’d engaged the quiet, sad man, she

nodded. Despite her yearning to connect with him, sometimes the silence between them
felt okay. It didn’t last too long, though, because their time was so short. She never
wanted to waste it. “How are you this week?”

She didn’t shy away from personal questions. She wanted to remind him he was a

person, regardless of his legal status as a possession. Stupid Nanda jurisdiction.

“Still a slave.” He used that answer a lot, but it never sounded bitter or resigned. He

sounded grim, determined. There was always a “but I’ll get out of this” hovering at the
end of that sentence.

Tell him. Just offer. She slid the cooler shut and weighed the crisps. Of course they

were correct, but it was one more delay. “I know next week is the annual marker of your
arrival. I’m sorry for it.”

And she was, even though she thrilled to talk to him. He stayed silent in the face of

her personal opinion. She tried for a bit more information anyway.

“Were you a slave before you came to Burlin?” This was a medium-sized orbiting

waystation. It was extremely safe for average folks who kept to themselves and worked
here, and extremely blind to any docking ships who wanted to move interesting things
between several surrounding jurisdictions with different ideologies.

At least it had been safe until the alfen enclave bought permission to set up here just

over a year ago. The alfen were a dangerous, decadent race driven out of six of the
sixteen civilized jurisdictions. How lucky for Burlin that not only had they acquired an
enclave, but the alfen had set up a museé for gilt play as well. The beautiful, sexual
beings and their glittering, swirling-gold tattoos were creepy. She stayed away from the
shops around their enclave, even though it had become the trendiest location.

He stayed silent, and not for the first time she wondered what his name was. She’d

asked but he’d just stared at her and murmured, “I wish you really did know.” The thick
tone to his words could still give her goosebumps when she recalled it.

It was frustrating not knowing his name. Without his name, how was she ever

supposed to do any research on him, or look for him later when he got free someday?
How was she supposed to offer her crazy solution when she didn’t even know his name?

“I was taken as a slave very shortly before they brought me here. Did the Frith have

dorsal boosters?”

She stacked the boxes in sets of five, tying carrying strings around them with precise

movements. Not too quickly, though. Looking at him under her lashes, she considered
what skill he had that the alfen wanted for their golden den of gilt. If he’d worked on a
ravari, then he’d probably been a Nav, a schwarz who could pop light through the
translocation beacons. He was a precious commodity, but clearly capable of something
even more valuable than his orienteering abilities.

She slid the boxes across the laser counter, the image fraying briefly under the

weight before washing opaque white again. So he’d only been a slave a little over a year.
“No dorsals, just laterals, unless that strange tubing along the aft is some sort of modified
booster.”

His lips quirked. “Without dorsals, she’ll be interplanetary only. No sub-orbital lift.

That tubing’s her speed plating.”

“Wow.” She raised her eyebrows and finished handing him the sets of fresh crisps.

“I’ve never seen any plating so delicate.”

“That’s why the ravari is an elite craft for the wealthy. Beauty and function in a

perfect marriage.”

Liese shrugged. “Beauty doesn’t make a ship worthy.” She opened the warmer and

took out the wafers. Unfortunately, the tiny morsels came prepackaged in sets of fifty.

The schwarz scowled, dangling the four stacks of crisps from one hand, the wide

clunky form of them in their pale pink boxes cute against his expensive black outfit.
“Beauty is what makes a ship special. The time put into the design, the way functions are
hidden and melded with form, that’s class.”

Very carefully, she put the baker’s seals across all three seams on the box. “I

disagree. Sometimes you want the functions to be clear in the design. Take a tontook. I
mean, a quattro of people aren’t going to pile onto something that looks dainty and fussy.
They want durability, safety.” She slid the wafers to him and brought the payment screen
to the counter surface.

“The tontook is probably the most unimaginative, stolid ship structure ever built. It’s

a monstrosity. The plating jutting out from the ship makes it look like it was boxed.” He
tapped the enclave’s payment code into the light pad and the counter frosted white again.

Liese fiddled with the treasure in her pocket. “It looks indestructible, and damn near

is. Can’t it have been designed a-purpose to create that very opinion?”

He stared at her, thick brows drawn together.
She smiled back. “I’d be fine flying on a tontook. I think I’d be comfortable there.”

With a laugh, she shrugged. “Probably more comfortable than on a ravari. Pretty is
overrated.” She took the stone out of her pocket and slid it over the counter.

He stared at her another beat, one of those too-long moments that made her yearn to

know what he thought of when they talked in their brief weekly chats. When he glanced
at the counter, she caught the flash of pleasure, hidden as it was in the shadows of his
eyes.

“You know what it is,” she noted.
“Don’t you?”
“Nope. I found it under my chair at a diner the other day, and it seemed too

invaluable to turn in. It felt good in my hand.” The polished, freeform object had a
fascinating weight. She pushed it toward him a little more, up next to the box of wafers.
“Take it. Enjoy it for today and drop it for someone else to find.”

She always worried that the little treats she shared with him would be found. He’d

told her once she mustn’t aid him. But giving him a child’s ball, a strange coin, or a tiny
interesting bottle didn’t seem too dangerous. She liked keeping him amused. And she
very much wanted to help him. She wanted to free him. Tell him. Just offer.

He was still staring at the dark green, shiny lump. “It’s a worry stone. Leipzigger.

You’re meant to hold it, and it will warm to your body. The rounded grooves are for
fingers to stroke, helping to still your mind.” He reached out and picked it up. His face
stiffened and he flashed his gaze up to hers. “It’s still warm from your hand.”

She shrugged. “I don’t know if it stilled my mind, but it was nice. Enjoy it.”
He rolled it through his fingers in an impressive flourish. She wouldn’t have thought

hands that big could be that agile. While the stone had filled her palm, in his hand, it
seemed barely the size of his thumb. “Thank you, Liese.”

A zing skittered down her spine. Her name sounded lovely in his deep slow voice.

Thank you, Lees-eh. She looked at him solemnly. Slave. Beautiful strange man. “You’re
welcome, Mr. Schwarz.”

He shook his head. “I am called Stillskin.” His breath caught, shoulders flinching.

His hand touched his heart briefly before he set it back on the wafers.

Her breath caught at finally knowing his name. “You’re welcome, Stillskin.”

Knowing that sharing his name with her had caused him physical pain infuriated her.
What would the pressure of carrying a slave clamp over her heart feel like? What kind of
pain would it send through her blood, a punishment for disobeying stated orders? For a
body like his to twitch made her stomach turn at the thought.

The worry stone disappeared and he scooped the large wafer box into the fold of his

arm. There was a hovercart just outside the door, to help with all the supplies he gathered
for the museé. He never let her help carry the boxes.

Liese raised one brow. “You know who came off the ravari today?”
He shook his head.
“Three alfen. I saw them walk past when I was getting fresh juice in the greenspace.

Two were carrying this huge case, and the other drifted ahead, smiling. He was old, for
an addict.” He’d been the most beautiful being she’d ever seen, made more inhumanly
astonishing than his natural alfen genes due to the layers upon layers of gilt tattoos
curling across his skin. It had all been visible beneath the sheer red robe. “I worried for
you. It looked like they were bringing in something important, maybe dangerous.” It had
had oskul locks. Nothing good ever came from the oskul jurisdiction.

The muscles in one jaw jumped. It would have been subtle except for that scar,

which writhed like a paler snake on his swarthy face. “Not good, but not a problem for
me. It’s been expected.”

She nodded, relieved. Stillskin. She wasn’t sure, but she thought she liked the name

for him. The moment had come. It was even the right timing, being the anniversary of his
stay here. She could do this. She wanted to do this, and thought they could get away with
it. Chewing on her lips, she drew a big breath in through her nose.

“Good day, Liese.” He always said it so gently. It always made her heart flip flop.
But today the useless thing in her chest flopped harder, lower. Tell him. Just offer.

She opened her mouth but nothing came out.

He nodded and turned. Wait. I want you. I want you free. Gracefully, he maneuvered

out the narrow door into the station walkways without hitting any of the boxes. Briefly,
the bustle and noise of the business corridor filled the little room. He had to turn
sideways anyway just to fit his shoulders through the gap.

The door zipped back up behind his tight ass and Liese stared at the counter, alone in

the silence. She pressed the button to disinfect it and it hissed, shimmering briefly. For
the third week in a row, she’d failed. Her day stretched out before her, and the cheerful
tune she’d hummed all morning slurred into a slower, sadder one.

Chapter Two

“Stillskin. Darling.” A warm finger glided over his bare shoulder. “Pay attention.”
His flesh fused with glittering heat. The alfen’s gilted touch seemed alive, writhing

deep into his bones. He never gave them the satisfaction of seeing how the drug affected
him. Remaining motionless on his knees beside the golden bondage frame, Rum shifted
only his eyes to the alfen quartet torturing one of their guest addicts. They were all
arrayed on a stage in the center of the museé, a moaning mass of golden skin lit in a
strong spotlight, with him a dark lump off to the side.

Konig nodded to him without missing a stroke, pumping hard in the shuddering

man’s ass. “Stop him.”

Yet again, Stillskin reached out to touch the man’s ribs. The man hissed and tried to

shrink away. But he was tied to a sturdy scroll-worked square with gilt ropes, the fat
strands wrapped endlessly around his straining body. And then there were the four alfen
boxing him in, all lavishing their intoxicating gilten touch upon him.

Stillskin demonstrated his name, the reason he’d been betrayed and sold to these

addicts. With a touch and a thought, he wrenched the man’s sensations away, leaving him
a calmed husk for the alfen to play with all over again. What had once been a valuable
battle skill was now a sexual toy.

When his hand dropped back to his thighs, he returned to the nightly goal of

identifying women who might lie with him. From the stage, he had a good view of the
gold, pink, and red room. He was the only absence of elegance in the place, dressed in a
black leather harness made to display his cock and the slave clamp that sat over his heart.

It wasn’t every night he was able to fuck someone, praying that by some miracle

their hormonal birth control would fail. Nanda was a disgustingly depraved jurisdiction,
but their rules of progeny were quite clear. If a slave bore a child, she or he was free, as
no child could be raised by parents held to the slave laws.

Usually, this was no out at all since hormonals or an operation would end a slave’s

chance at procreation. But Rum Stillskin was a schwarz. His body did a lot of things with
energy that no other races’ could do, including stay fertile no matter what hormonals they
tampered with. It wasn’t like the alfen wanted to take his balls entirely, since gilt addicts’
preferred method of stim was sex.

He was buried here until he could win his way free. The damned slave clamp and an

order from Konig prevented him from enlisting aid of any kind. He couldn’t do anything
that would lead to contact with his family or friends. If anyone had asked Stillskin three
years ago if the bodyguard on the fast track to becoming a ravari cruiser’s Nav would be
desperate to father a child on any random gilt-infested woman, he’d have laughed and
toasted them with dark ale for an original absurdity. What he wouldn’t give to taste a
dark ale now.

With effort he kept his hands loose on his lap, unwilling to show them how the

shallow gold dome rising from his left pectoral ached. The clamp sat heavy around his
heart, pulsing with constant pain. The thought of spending his life, night after year,
watching these alfen draw others into their desperate search for ever-increasing nightly
stim made him want to vomit. Again.

He would not give up hope. A child was his tool to escape, but he would be a loving

and dedicated father. He or she would never know they were born out of selfish
necessity. His eyes scanned the room, assessing. Tonight he thought three of the women
were prospects. Many women found him appalling, especially after drinking, sometimes
literally, of the alfen beauty. Often, they recoiled, horrified by his appearance. He was
short, thick, scarred and dark. It had always served him well enough until he had to
compete with sleek, golden sex experts augmented with swirling aphrodisiac. But in the
later hours, he’d be able to flit through the room, whispering, offering a different touch
from the knife’s edge of gilt.

First the alfen had to find their plateau. Then they got lazy and tired and drifted

away. After they were sated, he was free to seduce, because they found his determination
amusing.

He’d learned how to spot the ones who liked a little diversity. Sometimes they

reached for him, and he’d fuck them as fast as he could, ejaculating with no thought to
their pleasure at first, just to try to get enough time to come again in a short while. All he
could hope for was that somehow, the gilt weakened their hormonals, and his semen
affected them further.

Nails scraped lightly over his ribs. “Stillskin, our blackness, it’s time.”
He took his eyes off the brunette who was his likely prey tonight and reached. The

bound man’s body strained, a taut arc of impending orgasm. Johann was kneeling at his
balls, and Uther stood over him, pumping their erections together while he kissed the
midlander’s neck. Dagmar knelt on the far side, her hands probing both Konig’s and
Uther’s asses while she rubbed and humped on the man’s leg. Konig was fucking him,
his hands pawing at Dagmar’s head.

Stillskin touched him, killing all the sensation. Looking at them, he thought, not for

the first time, that they made a stunning carnal image if you didn’t consider all the agony
they caused in their addiction. Gilt addicts needed nightly stim. Pain, pleasure, bliss, fear,
it didn’t matter. Tourists paid a great deal indeed for a topical dose and the sexual use of
the eager addicts, but very quickly they could be drawn into the need for an inking.

Once tattooed, there was no going back. The tattooed needed so much stim after

awhile they recruited hard to gain other addicts, since fellow addicts could withstand gilt
better and provided extended stim. But the inking faded, needing periodic updating, and
every inking was a gamble. It was all a spiral of greed, need, and desperation.

Rum considered the flickering patterns traced into Johann and Uther’s writhing

backs. It was a subtle shine most of the time, but when an addict reached their nightly
plateau, the gilt powered and glowed across their bodies like a roaming solar flare. It was
unspeakably beautiful, and apparently equally beautiful to experience. The high would
carry them for a day, until the need to shine turned them into desperate, cruel beings
again. If the gilt was not fed nightly to a multi-orgasmic level, madness would take them.

Once gilt was laced into the skin, you never got out of it. It was just a question of

which would give out first, your heart or your brain. Alfen were particularly strong. They
could survive as gilt addicts for years. Konig had ruled this enclave’s gilt museé since
they’d arrived here. Midlanders like the one they toyed with tonight had perhaps two
years, tops. Yet here he was, volunteering to join the tattooed ranks for a suicidal bliss.

The man sobbed, limp in his bonds. Johann sung to him around his balls, his pink

head bobbing. Dagmar, topped with darker pink curls, gave a delicate cry as she came

again. Ah, she was the first to plateau tonight. She had two sets of tats. Her hands shone
like a candle, and light spread from her long, thin thighs. Uther, his metallic blonde hair
sleek with sweat, wrapped his hands around the man’s swollen nub of softened cock and
began to squeeze it erect yet again.

A tourist, a Troth from the look of his big beefy blondeness, reached up from the

floor and fondled Johann’s genitals. On his knees, Johann arched his ass out and came
again across their victim’s feet. Hours of working their captive were now paying off. His
body lit up, the swirls of gilt snaking alive across his slim bare form. They marked him as
an older addict, having survived several inkings. He crawled out from between Uther and
the midlander.

He and Dagmar stepped off the display platform and clung together. Stillskin

marveled that he was the only one who seemed to notice the fear in their faces that they’d
finally overcome their need and survived another night. Their bodies had clawed up a
mountain of sensation. He wondered which was the greater high, the shimmering lethargy
that filled them for the next several hours or the sheer relief their hearts and minds were
whole for one more night.

Uther fell to his knees and took the willing toy’s cock in his mouth for the first time.

The man shouted, an ugly agonized sound. For a moment, the swirl of sexual activity
around the room paused. Then there were a few laughs. Intense sexuality was just part of
the landscape in the museé. And so they looked away from the two beautiful men fucking
the lucky third on the platform. After all, he’d put himself up there by choice.

The fact one midlander was typically incapable of providing enough stim for one

alfen to flare didn’t occur to most of the tourists. The other alfen on the floor watched the
group with hungry eyes. Konig had ordered several of them to watch at first. Just another
trick to provide more stim. That had been hours ago, countless orgasms for all of them
now past. The volunteer could be driven mad for his appetites. He was a fool.

Stillskin’s eyes narrowed on one of his prospects for the night, noting how her legs

went rigid when her partner twisted her nipples. He cataloged that tidbit. Yes, it was true,
this idiot had put himself up here by choice. This was his trial. If he could survive feeding
all four alfen to their gilt plateaus, he’d be granted the bliss of being inked with gilt
himself. Oh, the irony.

Perhaps an hour later, Rum cursed Konig’s drug-induced longevity and watched one

of his potential women stumble out for home, well-sated. But finally, finally Konig
slumped over the man, his perfect, chiseled face and defined muscles stark. Rum glanced
over and saw the alfen’s ruby red eyes ease open, satisfaction glowing. Konig jumped
down to the floor, and one of the newer midlander addicts rushed over, her simpler gilt
markings still sparkling across her tiny tits from her own success.

Konig was led to the baths in the corner of the room, while the man bound to the grid

shivered and strained, still denied a finish. Just as bound, Rum fumed that he’d been left
up here. Every single alfen in the room had plateaued by now, and it was time he was left
to his small amount of freedom. It usually amused Konig to watch Rum cajole women
into being touched by his thick, dark self after they’d been seduced by the trim athletic
perfection of the alfen. Konig was quite sure Rum would find it impossible to get a
woman pregnant, because their hormonals were verified upon entrance.

Finally, Konig returned. He stepped casually up onto the thigh-high platform and

tore the gag they’d put on the man away.

“Please, now. Please, oh gods, please, finish me, I need it, Konig, I’m begging, I

need—”

“Shut up.”
The man whispered, “Please…” His jaw worked, as if he couldn’t quite keep from

begging.

“You’ve done it, Miller. You fed four alfen tonight, all without the benefit of your

own inked gilt for extra stim. You shall join us in our beautiful world of pleasure, an
endless parade of nightly delight.”

Rum mentally rolled his eyes. He wondered if the man, Miller, had been shown the

holding rooms, where the addicts who couldn’t reach their plateaus through pleasure
were beaten into their necessary ecstasy before the drug made them mad.

Miller began to cry, snot dripping from his face. Rum shifted his weight, knees

aching, neck stiff. If he ever saw Mason again, he was going to kill him for selling Rum
to these people. It would be kinder than making him taste this slavery.

“Unfortunately, we have no gilt to give you.”
Rum went still. Miller’s sagging head jerked up. His flushed face was nearly comical

in astonishment.

Konig smiled, as gorgeous a being as Rum had ever seen. His ruby hair was already

drying into silky waves, and his golden skin was notable due to its empty purity. No
swirls of gilt marred his hairless, perfectly toned and proportioned body. Konig, the
lunatic, had used each of his infusions entirely on his cock. Even now, fully powered,
Konig’s cock stood upright, an erect pillar of light. The swirls of so many infusions in
such a small area gave it the appearance of being solid gold. Rum had seen women come
just from the first stroke of that cock into their bodies. So much gilt, so tightly bound on
the body’s most sensitive location. It was insane.

“Yes, you see, our enclave has depleted all our gilt. But luckily for you, we received

a shipment of fresh flax this morning. Stillskin set up the spinning wheel personally,
didn’t you, slave?” Konig’s garnet eyes sparkled at Rum.

Rum nodded once. That job had been waiting for him when he returned from his

weekly shopping jaunt, the one pleasure in his life.

“All is in readiness. You will receive the first dose, Miller, in honor of pleasing us

tonight. Have you thought where you’d like your first inking to be placed?”

Miller’s brown eyes were having a hard time focusing, but he nodded. “Yes, Konig.

My chest and neck.” His pelvis rocked slightly in his bonds, as if he couldn’t help but
seek sensation for his hard erection. The midlander was handsome enough, but looked
drab next to the alfen perfection. “If not you, then anyone. Any touch, it doesn’t need to
be enhanced with gilt. One touch—”

“You’ll come at my desire. You still haven’t learned to be a vessel for the pleasure,

even after so long?” He blew out a breath in disgust. “Shall I have Stillskin empty you,
with nothing but the phantom memory of this beautiful peak you tremble on?”

“No, no,” Miller moaned. “I await your pleasure.”
Konig nodded. “So you want your chest to wear the gilt, where your pulse will drag

it through your body that much faster. Ah, a wise choice. You’ll reach a state of being
you’ve never imagined, Miller. It will be unlike anything you’ve ever known, beyond
joy.”

Rum felt distinctly sick. Konig was going somewhere with this. Usually, they just

tortured their new recruits to this point then dosed them into near insanity with their first
inking.

Konig’s face fell, aching with such false sorrow and concern, Rum ground his teeth.

“But, my new brother, the spinning of the flax must commence first. And we have no
prospects. We need a very special person, you see. The spinner must be very sexual,
capable of receiving much pleasure. Yet at the same time, they must have no experience
with gilt whatsoever.”

Konig leaned against one side of the golden grid the man was spread upon. He

reached out one long elegant finger and touched the tip of the man’s rigid, flushed cock.
It flexed wildly, bobbing up to his belly and seeping fluid. The zap of a powered gilted
touch on that raw skin, hard used for hours now, must be agony.

Miller choked, his head falling back on a neck marked with deep bites and spotted

from sucking mouths.

“All we need is a name. Someone who would spin our treasure for us. Someone who

is new to us, a modest person, just a hardworking friend. Someone who would be richly
rewarded, their world enlightened by the first pure touch of gilt.”

Stroking his own gilt-glowing cock, Konig sighed a heavy sigh. “I wish I could

induct you tonight, Miller. But we are hindered here, forbidden to recruit among the
station population, except from those who willingly visit us. Imagine our sadness—"

“Liese.”
Every coarse black hair on Rum’s body stood up. His nape, his chest, his arms, his

thighs all went electric with the name that burst out of Miller’s chapped lips. The scent of
vanilla filled his lungs.

“Liese. My ex. She’s never touched gilt. She doesn’t know. She’d like it, I know she

would.”

“Hmmm.” Konig oozed concern. “But is she talented enough to spin the flax?”
“She’s a fucking ion cannon in bed. She took a long time to get there, but once I got

her to the sheets, she went all night. Go get her. She’s at a carb-deli. Please, Konig. One
touch, just give me one more touch.” His body writhed and twisted as it could in the
bonds, his arms and legs spread in a wide cross. “Please, oh gods, please, I need.”
Miller’s face was so twisted he hardly looked human.

Konig beamed, his full lips revealing perfect white teeth. He was a study in balanced,

complimentary shades of red, with his hair, eyes, mouth, and nipples. His tight, flawless
tan skin over perfect muscles, his broad shoulders and narrow hips with a rippling
abdomen, and that shining, metallic erection. “Soon you will be truly one of us, Miller.”
He leaned in close to the man’s twisted face. “If she is as capable as you say.”

“She is. I swear. Please.”
“No, you don’t get my gilted touch since you still beg like a greedy peasant instead

of pleasure’s disciple. But since you have given us a strong candidate to spin our flax into
gilt, I’ll take pity on you.” Konig bent and blew softly over Miller’s cockhead.

Miller’s scream froze the room, his jism shooting out in an arcing fountain to land

across a woman’s leg. The few people still enjoying the rush of their taste of gilt, a mere
topical treatment, stared in awe at the orgasm that gripped Miller for long moments. He
bucked so hard blood trickled from his wrists, and his muscles clenched so strongly his
skin seemed to swell. He spurted again and again while Konig smiled fondly.

Rum stared at the bastard, his heart thudding so hard he thought perhaps it would

pop the slave clamp from his body. Konig gave up languid applause when Miller
finished, hanging fully from his wrists. The room burst out into laughter again, and
clapped with him, oblivious to the fact one addict had just condemned an old friend to
join him in the hell that was a gilt museé.

Konig glanced at Rum. “You’re dismissed. Go fuck your barren little whores,

desperate shadow. But before you retire for the morning, make sure you ready the
spinning room with a good amount of flax. It is being guarded by our troths in the
kitchen. You’ll need my permission.”

Rum’s brain raced with ways to warn her, with ways to pass a message, with denials.

If he offered himself up as their playtoy, sometimes they granted him privileges. It was
how he’d negotiated for the right to fuck their leftovers. A schwarz’s willing pleasure
was worth a great deal to a gilt-addled alfen.

Konig turned to a pile of bodies sprawled on red pillows behind Miller. He ordered

two of the midlanders serving the alfen tonight to take Miller away. Uther was there with
his yellow-blond hair, a vacancy in his eased eyes that Rum despised.

“Uther. Get dressed. I have someone for you to fetch.”
Rum staggered to his feet, his legs asleep.
“Ah, Stillskin. Still here?” Konig chuckled at his stupid joke. “You didn’t like that,

did you? You think it’s not fair.” Konig stepped up to him and stroked a hand behind
Stillskin’s neck. Bending his head down from his greater height, he hovered over Rum’s
mouth. The drug inked in the man’s skin was newly energized, and the touch of Konig’s
fingers sent tendrils of molten intensity down Rum’s spine.

Rum forced himself to stay still, words to stay their hand against Liese, sweet,

shining Liese, tumbling through him.

“Does it remind you of being sold out by your own kind? Do you think she’ll adjust

to our ways as well as you have?” Konig’s breath smelled of wine and spices and fresh
crackers.

It infuriated him. This thing had no right to smell like Liese. He shouldn’t even know

she existed.

Konig lowered himself more so that his lips brushed over Rum’s with every

whispered word. “You’re so adorable in your idiotic morals. I’ll fuck you again soon. But
first, I’ll fuck her. I’ll take her after she’s finished the flax for us, and then I’ll carve the
gilt ink into her skin myself, while my freshly-powered cock is deep in her cunt. And
then you’ll see, Stillskin, my pet shadow. You’ll see that nothing matters but the pleasure.
Her simple life is over, and her introduction into the pure moment, the straining flesh, the
bubbling blood…”

He inhaled, seeming to pull Rum’s breath out from his shuddering lungs. “It’s a

beautiful life. How I wish I could show it to you. Such a tragedy, your composition, the
fact you’ll never know the truth of gilt, just a pale ghost of it. And you standing here all
stiff with outrage, thinking yourself superior, when really it’s you, shadow. You’re the
one who’s less, untouched. I mourn for you.”

He licked Rum’s lower lip and heat rolled down his neck. That gilt could give a mild

sexual thrill to an unwilling schwarz had taught him the power it must have over some of
the other races who sought it out.

Konig continued. “I don’t mourn enough to avoid using your talented hands to help

stretch our pleasure and feed our needs, of course. But I do pity you. Poor dark, ugly

Stillskin. Hoping for his baby-key, stubbornly yearning to leave our golden luxury and
return to the cold emptiness of his spaceship. Stupid, unimaginative schwarz.”

A gentle kiss against Rum’s lips churned his stomach. “My slave.” Tightening his

grip on Rum’s neck, he smiled down into Rum’s crackling eyes.

In that moment, Rum weighed his instant seizure with the satisfaction of punching

Konig right in the nose.

Chuckling, his nemesis winked and jumped off the stage to saunter away. Looking

around wildly, Rum saw that Konig had distracted him long enough for Uther to leave. It
was too late. How would he gather Liese here? Would he hurt her? Rum closed his eyes
and his fists. He strode off into the shadows in the corner of the room, leaning against the
red silk walls with their golden frames of gilt-induced blurred art.

One of the women he’d identified as willing to touch him saw him standing there,

and stood up from her partner sprawled beneath her on the huge floor pillows. She
stumbled across the room, eyes feverish, tits high and tight. But when she stood before
him, he couldn’t find the will to try to rescue himself at the expense of a babe tonight. He
scowled at her and she sneered, moving off to the bar.

Liese. Brown haired, green-eyed Liese, with her curvy midlander body and clear

gaze. She talked to him. She prodded him. She gave him little gifts. His fingers rubbed
together, as if feeling the warm stone she’d shared earlier today. Liese, here, locked in the
spinning room…

Oh, fuck. In the year he’d been here, he’d only witnessed one spinning session.

Stillskin had known he hadn’t volunteered. A Troth guard had brought him in restraints.
The man had been locked into the spinning room, and after most of a day, he’d eventually
spun the flax into gilt. It was a relatively harmless procedure.

Then they’d taken the man into their private playrooms. Fresh layers of tattoos had

sparkled and shone across their bodies as all the alfen in the museé had taken turns dosing
the man. The man had begged and screamed in sexual rapture until he’d lost his voice.
After just two nights, he’d reached for the tat gun himself. The person had joined the
ranks of the addicted, desperate for stim, able to feed the alfen more stim than normal. A
few months later, when his gilt had begun to fade, he’d received his second tat, and died
of an aneurism.

Rum leaned against the wall, unable to leave the room until the alfen had all retired.

It was part of his standard programming the clamp enforced. He rubbed at the shallow
disk the size of his palm emerging from his pec. It was heavy, and sometimes he swore it
was more than imagination when his heartbeat felt like it was battering against a cage.
But the weight and pain was nothing compared to the thought of Liese coming here.
Sweet Liese of his dreams. And him doomed to watch her tortured into addiction,
followed by death.

Chapter Three

Liese shivered in the barren room. They’d taken her coveralls, her necklace and her

ring. She huddled against the gray metal walls in her thin lavender tank top and panties.
The contraption almost filling the small room’s back wall looked complex. They’d called
it the spinning wheel, but it wasn’t moving, just softly glowing with typical white touch-
laserlight.

She couldn’t believe this. Honestly, she couldn’t. It was surreal that an alfen had

walked up to her on her way to work and simply said, “Miller chose you to spin our flax.”

Miller, the roach, had been a nymphomaniac. She’d thought he was fun, and he had

been … with at least five other women she knew of. The few times she’d been in bed
with him, he’d been good. He’d worked both of them hard and paid attention to her. He’d
been the last good sex she’d had, over two years and two guys ago. To be fair, the
mechanic she’d dallied with a few months ago shouldn’t even count. She’d spent more
time daydreaming about the schwarz—Stillskin—than paying attention to him, even in
bed.

But apparently Miller was now a fan of this alfen museé, and he’d volunteered her to

make freaking gilt. Her! They actually thought she’d give in and masturbate on that
spongy pad, after the four troths had manhandled her into a private floater and dragged
her here. The pretty blond guy had been a sight, with his shimmering golden swirls
displayed on that bare tan chest. Surely someone had witnessed her being kidnapped by a
yellow-haired god in nothing but red silk pants, with four grim, strung-out troths
surrounding them, in the middle of the morning rush. Any minute now the waystation’s
polizei would burst in and free her.

A sob echoed in the metal room, bouncing with a sudden blast of panic. She bit her

lip, clenching her fingers into her shins, her knees drawn up tight. The alfen had taken
her. They wanted her to make gilt, because of something Miller told them. The troth had
taken her locator from her shoulder in a painless flurry of hands and subdermal shots, like
they’d done it many times before.

No polizei were coming. After the men stripped and tied her, badly, in the corner of

this room, the beautiful weirdo with the shining cock had come in. He’d explained
everything very clearly. She had never been exposed to gilt, therefore, she would be able
to make their machine work. Tomorrow, she was going to be beaten to death if she didn’t
do this. The big scarlet-haired man with feverish garnet eyes had told her this in a
soothing, sympathetic coo, stroking his erect golden dick all the while. Konig, they’d
called him. And blondie had been Uther. After Konig had described her death in great
detail, Uther came back.

Uther had left her the food, water, and waste chair in the corner. He’d served her her

own damn wafers! And all the while as he set the things out, he told her of the beauty of
their life, the open joy, the body singing at its greatest capacity, the peace to be found in
achieving the perfect high when gilt rushed through your neurons. She’d held herself
silent, as she had since her shouts for help had failed to bring immediate interference.

“Welcome, Liese. You’ve been plucked out of drudgery to experience perfect bliss.”

He smiled a wide, white-toothed grin that revealed dimples. “Do this one thing for us,

and we will hold you dear, and shower you in pleasure, and honor you with all the luxury
we have at our disposal.”

He opened the doorway, and she saw the thick pink carpeting, and the silken red

walls with their gold flourishes. “We’re trusting you, you know. This flax is very
precious. Work it for us, transform it into gilt, and be rewarded with a better life. Don’t
make Konig kill you out of stubborn pride. It would be such a waste.” Bowing, Uther had
left, taking the scent of sex with him.

She’d gotten out of their bindings within moments but the door wouldn’t open. That

had been hours ago. Was it midday? She’d cried a little, before forcing herself to stop.
She swung between hoping she’d be rescued, and believing she would die here. It seemed
a lifetime ago that she’d told Stillskin she was worried about him! Wasn’t life strange,
that now it was she who rode the alfen trap? What would he do if he saw her here?

Her brain spun, ached, spun some more, and then she slept. Her bladder woke her.

She peed, and the wafers, fresh fruit, and chum cubes drew her eyes again and again.
They probably drugged it. There was a carafe of wine, red of course, and a slender golden
pitcher of water. Stubbornly, she used the water and napkin to wash the stink of sour fear
off herself. Then she put her underwear set back on as fast as she could.

She paced around the cream-colored mat that sat before the machine. There were

robotics and grids at the back against the wall, and then the pulsing web of light projected
out from that in a circle. The mat was on the floor before it, but in between the mat and
the circle sat three boxes. They were transparent, chair-height, and side by side so they
almost formed a bench. Inside each was a fat pile of pale, straw-like sticks, poking every-
which-way.

More out of bored curiosity than anything, she jabbed at the mat with her toe. The

machine hummed with a whir, green lights winking and flashing in different shades.
Liese leaped back with a cry, stopping only when she was plastered against the cold gray
wall. She stared at it hard, chest thrusting with the force of her horror at activating it.

The door slid open. She spun to face it with a squeak. Almost, she didn’t recognize

him. He stood in the sumptuous hall, and the red light on his dark brown skin and mussed
black hair made him look like he was painted in flames. Her schwarz had never looked
more compelling. His eyes pinned her tight where she stood, hands flattened on the slick
metal next to her hips.

He stepped into the room and the door zipped closed. His gaze went to the machine,

then to the three boxes of flax. “I heard the cheer go up when they got the notice you’d
approached the wheel.”

She swallowed. “You … you knew I was here?”
“I was there when Miller gave you up last night, and Konig commanded Uther to

bring you in.”

She blinked at him, her eyes fluttering from the sharp pinch of pain her breastbone.

He’d known. He hadn’t stopped it, hadn’t ended this. “Can you get me out?”

“No.”
The word was final. Clenching her jaw, she stared at the floor. This couldn’t be

happening. “So this room is monitored?”

“The alfen have a no-monitoring policy. Generally, any pleasure they’d derive from

recordings is less than the danger of their recordings being used against them.” He waved
one hand at the wheel. “But they are watching the readouts of this. They’ll know when

you begin to use it and they’ll know when you’ve finished making the gilt.”

Liese looked at the machine, the light-wheel, the clear boxes and the white mat. “I’m

not going to.”

The silence in the room was thick, and for the first time, uncomfortable between

them.

“Liese. You must.” The words seemed torn from him, thick with grit.
She shook her head. “No.”
“Liese.”
“They sent you, didn’t they? To convince me.” She glared at him, standing all

muscled and hairy in that shockingly lewd black webbing.

It was his turn to shake his head. “They don’t know I’m here.”
She raised one brow, angry at him. “How are you evading your programming?”
He rubbed at the gold disc emerging from the slab of muscle on his chest. “I’m

allowed to seek women in the final hours of the night after they’ve all fed.”

Liese was surprised. “It’s after hours?” She wouldn’t touch the bit about the women.

He was worse than Miller.

“It’s two hundred on the day after you were taken.”
Her face crumpled in dismay. She couldn’t control the way her chin wobbled.

“There’s been no search? No missing person call?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. I only go out on shopping day. Certainly, there’s been

no search for you here, nor will there be. Konig has the station master well in hand. If
there were any sympathetic witnesses, they’ll have been paid off and threatened by now.”

Liese slid down the wall, wrapping her arms tight over her chest. “I can’t believe this

is happening.”

“It’s best if you get past that denial quickly. I can tell you that the sooner you start

negotiating the situation to your benefit, the better off you’ll be.” His voice sounded tired.

She wouldn’t look at him. “I won’t do this thing. I’m not going to waste my life

creating a drug, only to then be enslaved by it. It won’t be a good death, but—”

“But what? Death before dishonor? Don’t be an idiot. Are you saying you don’t

respect me for surviving as a slave instead of killing myself outright?” He moved closer
to her.

She closed her eyes. “You have a chance of escape, Stillskin. Gilt can’t infect you.

But if they make me an addict, I’m already dead. It’s just a matter of time.”

He paced to the wall by the supplies they’d left. He turned and paced back to the

wall she slumped against. Then he pivoted and went across the room again. She stole one
quick look at the way the straps encircled his immense neck, crossed his muscled back,
and skimmed his tight, flexing ass. Yup, just as lovely as she’d imagined beneath his nice
suit. He punched the wall, a hard, dull thump.

She winced. “What are you doing here?”
He flung himself around and she dropped her gaze from his furious one, then blushed

and averted her eyes from the way the webbing framed and lifted his genitals. “I’ve been
a mess ever since I heard that puling sack Miller drop your name last night. Don’t you
know I’ve done nothing but try to work out how to stop this, how to save you?”

She felt guilty. She should have known. Her gaze crept back to his sparking black

depths. He was a good man in a horrible situation. She’d known it since she’d met him,
and should have known it tonight. “There isn’t a way out?”

He thrust both hands into his hair. “No.” He held her gaze, his desolate and stunned.

“No.”

She dropped her head back against the wall, her stomach churning, despite its empty

state.

“Liese. Make the gilt. Maybe, somehow, I can rig some interruption, some delay in

your tattooing. Until it’s done, there’s hope.”

She gave a sad smile. “But once we fail, and they’ve inked me with the stuff, you

wouldn’t be able to kill me, would you? I’d be part of the addicts you’re bound to serve.
And I’ll have lost the will to do it myself.”

“Don’t assume failure! Assume escape!” He came over to her, close enough she felt

his warmth from a half meter away. Even his feet were interesting to her, toes, arches,
bony ankles and all.

“It’s almost funny. How yesterday…”
“There’s nothing funny here.” He sounded frustrated. “Focus on the issue, Liese.

You waste precious time and resources on denial.”

She shrugged, chafing her upper arms. “I’m not in denial, really. I think I’m still

pretty shocked, but I made my decision. It’s just so strange, how yesterday I warned you
about a strange delivery. And it was probably this flax stuff.”

“Flax is a fiber with properties of transference. Once it’s been charged with the

hormones, brain waves, and aura of sexual release, it transmutes and will continue to
exchange those feelings whenever bio-chemically charged in the future. Basically this
spinning process makes a pleasure drug.”

Liese snorted. “A psychic plant. What if I kill myself on that mat? Will it transfer

hate and rage from then on too?”

He knelt by her so fast, she gasped. “The wheel has been set to feed only on sexual

release, but you should be thankful the process is so psychic. Otherwise, it would be a
simple matter of drugging and raping you into release.”

She shivered, curling her toes tighter. She sat with her legs tucked to one side, knees

pointing toward him. Resting her head on the wall, it was surreal to study him here in the
soft white light of the wheel. “To think they chose me because I stayed away from the
shit.”

She rolled onto her knees opposite him. A surge of excitement filled her with heat.

“What if I attack one of them as they come in the door? Then I’d have contact with gilt!
If I made a big enough fuss, maybe someone would even notice, call the polizei, or—”

“They’re not coming in again. They feel that their intimidation and sales pitch were

enough. Either you spin the flax before tomorrow morning, or the next time you see
them, they’ll be coming to kill you.” His face wore that same shuttered, hidden look
she’d seen so often in the carb-deli.

Disgusted, she said, “That’s why they tied me up in such a useless way. Just enough

to keep me from lunging at them when they talked to me.”

He swallowed. In a hushed, rusty voice he said, “Liese.”
She held her breath. “Stillskin.”
“You’re my friend. Don’t give up. What if you’re able to escape later, and find a

cure for the addiction? Swallow your pride. Survive, as long as you can. Hope.”

Bitter warmth swelled her throat. She blinked fast and hard. “You’re so sweet.”

Suddenly, it was easy to tell him, now that the offer was impossible. “I wanted to give

you hope, you know. Yesterday. I’d decided to offer myself to you. If I’d just had the
courage to do it, maybe we’d both be out of this fucking place today.”

His face looked like a plasticene mask. His thick lips and wide jaw tightened as his

heavy brow drew in. “What are you saying?”

“I looked up the slave laws in Nanda. If you can get someone pregnant—hey! Is that

why you troll for women every night?” Surprise lit her up briefly.

“Yes. What are you saying, Liese. What do you mean, ‘offer yourself’?” His nose

flared and he drew higher up on his knees.

How absurd of her to be so relieved to know he had a valid reason for fucking

around. She forgave him instantly, shoulders relaxing as she shed her hurt. “I stopped my
hormonals and even set up my ovulation. I wanted to tell you I found you attractive, and
that I was willing to try to free you. I figured we’d have a ten-minute window every
week.”

He stared at her. She dropped her gaze. How ridiculous she must seem. The plain,

chunky carb-deli midlander. Would he be angry? Would he see it as offering herself for a
quick pity fuck? In a way, it was a pity fuck. But there was also the small fact that he
occupied most of her waking thoughts, and many sleeping ones, too.

“You’re off your hormonals.” The scar on his face danced.
She shrugged, choking on a tart laugh. “Not that it matters now.”
“Liese…” he breathed.
She scowled at him. “What? You can’t want to have a go now. We’d have to get my

blood verified instantly, but even if you managed that, they’d kill me anyway. They’re so
powerful they’d deny ever having me.”

He closed his eyes. “Let me think.”
She watched him for a few moments. His throat had a pulse that thumped hard. His

shoulders were twice her width at least, and his chest was furred all the way down his
belly. It looked soft. Her fingers itched to touch him. She jumped when he sprang to his
feet and began pacing.

“Yesssss,” he hissed across the room. He turned and came back. “Possible.”
She noticed she was rocking but didn’t stop. For someone who had thought she was

ready to die, she kept getting yanked into hope easy enough. “What is it?”

He stopped and looked at her. “You said it yourself. The flax is psychic, in a way. It

transfers energy. The gilt is merely the remainder, the echo if you will, that responds to
the same energy.”

He strode to her so boldly she shrank back. He towered over her, and she blinked up

at him. She was used to being the taller one. “Uhhh…”

He folded his arms across his chest, his biceps leaping into definition. She bit her lip,

keeping her gaze firmly on his face as his private smell pushed into her lungs.

“I’m a schwarz, Liese.”
“I can see that, Stillskin.” He was a beautiful schwarz.
He shook his head, his lips actually quirking for a moment. “My people link with our

partners in an energy ceremony. If we can make that gilt, we can use it to power an
exchange between you and me, a psychic exchange. If you can taste enough of my aura to
get my true name, we’ll be linked. And if we can also get pregnant, I’ll be free to defy my
slave clamp the instant I know. And I’ll know, Liese. At the moment of conception, I’ll
know if we’re linked. Then I’d get us out.”

Her mind boggled. She struggled through his information. “So, you want to link with

me as one final chance to get pregnant and free you? And all I have to do is guess your
true name? Is it Mike? Bob? Tom?”

He gave her a confused look then burst out laughing. The deep tenor filled the metal

room. “Liese, you can only know my name if we’re linked. And yes, I think this is worth
trying. It’s not about freeing me, it’s that if we link, I can free you.”

“But … you’d want to use the gilt. You said we’d need the gilt to make this link. So

if we don’t get pregnant…” The idea of being a sexual addict while psychically linked to
Stillskin made her nauseous.

He gripped her shoulders. “Hope! If we can link and conceive, we’re both free!” He

looked at the mat, and she had the sense he was thinking of tossing her there to fuck her
right now.

She held her breath as her heart decided to start and stop several times. Her hand

pressed hard against her chest. “We’d still have to get past them. You can’t keep them
from just killing us both outright and spacing our bodies.”

His face leaped into a snarl so savage she recoiled. “Without this fucking slave

clamp, they won’t find me so docile. I’m a damn good fighter, and I’ve trained
extensively in how to protect a mark. I think I could get us out before it even came to
that, if we can get pregnant before they come back. But if we had to fight our way out, it
isn’t the alfen we’d have to worry about, it’s their troth muscle.”

She covered her mouth with her hand. “What if I can’t link to you? I don’t like the

idea of using the gilt. Then when they came for us they’d have their gilt and I’d already
be spaced on it.”

He touched her jaw with one big, blunt forefinger. “We need energy. Gilt is what

we’ve got.”

Tears popped up with the horrified sweat. “What if I don’t get pregnant? My mom

said she tried for three years before they had me. Sweet Heavenly Father, Stillskin. What
if we just link and they have their gilt? Think of having to live with me as an addict,
linked in your special way.”

Stillskin’s strange and compelling face creased, then smoothed, then creased again

with quickly passing thoughts. She wanted to know them all. He’d always made her feel
greedy.

“Liese, if you fail to link with me, and you become inked and forced into their

museé, I swear to you, now on my ancestor’s souls, that I will never stop seeking escape,
and when I achieve it, I will take you with me, to either find a way to free you, or feed
you myself until your body gives out. We’re in this together, link or no link.”

Oh… That was just about the most terrifying and romantic thing she’d ever heard.
“Come here.” He drew her up off the floor.
She was stiff. Enveloping her in his long dark arms, he wrapped her gently into his

chest. One of the black straps, a slick polymer, and the edge of his surprisingly warm
slave clamp touched her chest. But it was the soft chest hair that made her melt. She laid
her head on his shoulder, a bit lower than her own, nestling her face into his warm throat.

“Try with me, Liese. Reach for it. We can do this.” His arms encased her back, a

hand at hip and shoulder. She sank into him, so naturally. He was like a stabilizer. A
really good smelling stabilizer. She couldn’t believe this was happening.

“It all seems awfully precarious.” Propping her chin on the angle of muscle

connecting his neck to his shoulder, she looked over at the contraption quietly humming,
waiting.

Yesterday, she’d almost offered her life up for this man, been willing to have his

baby in order to free him. Could she deny him the same chance today? She could fail and
die, or become a mindless addict. But if she could somehow get pregnant he’d be free.
And if he was free, then her chances went way up, linked or unlinked in the schwarz way.
Was it evil of her to risk condemning a child for the sake of his freedom?

Her stomach churned. Her head whirled. “Yes.”
His arms spasmed around her, and she rasped a tight breath inside his strength. He

pulled her away with a grip on her shoulders, to stare at her. “You will attempt to link
with me?”

She nodded, awkwardly, hands on his forearms. She could feel the hard sinew

twisting there, so much power, so wrongfully controlled. “We’ll try, in the hope that
we’re able to get pregnant and get out of here before I get addicted.”

He leaned his forehead in against hers. Despite standing about ten centimeters taller

than he, she’d never felt so protected. His arms cradled her, barely touching. His heat
coated her front, and his dark skin seemed to draw a curtain of privacy around her. She
closed her eyes and rested her hands on his waist. There was no slender, lithe rack of
muscle as there had been on Uther. He was solid, dense and masculine in a rough way the
vid-stars never seemed to be. Her fingers pressed into him, but there was no give.

“Is it Mark? John?”
His breath huffed against her lips, sizzling. “No. That’s not my name.”
“Drat. What’s our plan?” Her tongue felt too big for her mouth. They’d have to make

love here, in this horrible place.

“My plan is to help you make some gilt, and use it as fast as we can to link.”
She shivered. “I don’t know what to do.”
“Time is passing.” His hands rotated on the back of her shoulders, slid up to her

nape. “Liese. I’m so sorry you’re here. You don’t deserve this. I’m so sorry.”

The words were soft, a warrior’s regret. And then her warrior pushed his fingers into

her hair, stirring all the small filaments on her arms.

“Get on the mat, Liese. You need to make yourself come, hard and fast.”
She bit her lip. Her toes wiggled against the coarse metal floor. “You can’t join me?”
“No. I’ve known gilt. But I can help if you need me to.” He stepped back from her,

his thumbs tracing behind her ears. Her mouth flooded with moisture.

She couldn’t believe this was happening. “You can help just by standing there. Nice

outfit.”

He narrowed his eyes at her. “It’s better than a pink cupcake hat.”
She snorted. A laugh burbled up out of her. It seemed wrong somehow so she tried to

stifle it, but she looked at him all crisscrossed in that shiny sex web and a chuckle tickled
her lungs.

He stepped back again, his hand drifting down her arm. She clutched at his fingers as

they passed. I’m holding Stillskin’s hand. For some reason, it felt like one of the most
sexually daring things she’d ever done. He wasn’t the exotic alien, or the poor
unfortunate. He wasn’t the stoic challenge or the sensual mystery. Well, he was, and all
those things were interesting, but mostly, he was her sexy friend. He was dark,
determined, and decent. She trusted him a lot. And liked him an awful lot.

“I’m so glad you’re here. Thank you for coming to me.” She tried to envision them

together, free, her arms full with a laughing dark-skinned baby and him staring out at the
stars.

He nodded once.
His hand was huge around hers, the skin rough and thick. There were calluses, and

the hair on the back was springy. His grip was firm, steady. She thought she was holding
him too tightly, but couldn’t relax.

He tugged gently, and swung her toward the mat. “Ah, I see they left tools to aid

you.”

There was a long golden tray arrayed with red and golden sex toys. Some she didn’t

even recognize. Others looked like high-end versions of what she owned. There was one
she’d been saving for that had featured in her fantasies. A sanitary wash of laser-light
shimmered over the walls of the tray.

He drifted a finger down the back of her spine, and tugged at her hard grasp. She let

his hand go and felt small and exposed. Uther had been clear. She had to get on the mat
and create a strong orgasm. “I don’t know if I can do this.”

“Your nipples are hard.”
She shot him a look. Men. “It’s cold in here.”
“They weren’t hard until I held you.”
She crossed her arms, noticed that just displayed her breasts higher, and uncrossed

them.

“You are so very beautiful.” His eyes went right to her chest and stayed there, noting

every detail of how the tank’s built-in support cradled them, and how her nipples had a
fat little bead at the end. “Astonishing, that you’re attracted to me.”

He nudged her, and before she knew it, she was standing on the thick padding. It

puffed around her feet, dense and warm. The small bit of comfort after the awful day
surprised her. She shifted her weight and glanced at the humming machine. The lights did
indeed seem to flicker in a new pattern. Somewhere out there, the alfen with their
shimmering tattoos were getting excited.

“Of course I am. You’re a powerful, interesting man.” Glancing at the tray, she

wondered if she had the ability to bring herself off in front of him. Should she ask him to
turn to the wall?

“I’m a schwarz. I’ll never be handsome. The alfen call me troll or shadow.”
“Why were you named Stillskin?”
His voice seemed to drop an octave. “Take one of the tools, and I’ll tell you.”
Her teeth chattered, surprising her into a giggle, whereupon they chattered again.
“I can’t tell you that you’re safe here. But I’m with you. Let’s do this, Liese.” He

stood at the edge of the mat. She could reach out and touch him, but somehow she knew
he’d step out of reach if she tried. There was no telling what the machine would relay to
the alfen. Perhaps it would know if someone who’d touched gilt was upon it, or even that
there were two people.

She bent and reached into the tray’s laser screen. It winked out. She picked up a tiny

pocket dildo, no bigger than her nose, egg-shaped and a dull gold. She’d burned out
several in her lifetime and knew well how to use it to her satisfaction. Her gaze lingered
on the expensive toy she’d researched. No.

“Put it between your legs, cupcake.”

She giggled at his nickname. “You were going to tell me about your name.”
“I have several physical talents. A few of them are related to energy. I have the

ability to deaden adrenaline, and sap tension. I used it in fighting. But apparently there’s
quite the market for my ability among gilt addicts.”

Liese frowned, turning the toy over in her hands and setting it buzzing faintly. “They

need to feed on sexual energy. Why would they want to stop it?”

“With my talent, they can feed on the same person over and over, instead of having

to find half a dozen each.”

Her hands grew icy with realization. “They use you to prolong the sex. You stop

people from coming, so they can bring them to that point again and again.” She tried to
control her face, to keep her eyes still.

“Yes, Liese. They use me to torture people.”
“But… it’s people who paid to come here. People who want extreme sex. They’re all

high on gilt, right?”

He shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. It’s torture. Put the toy into your folds now.”
“It’s not your choice, Stillskin.” He would put this on himself, even though he

literally had no choice.

“I was proud of my talent once, and hope to live to be so again.” His gaze slid down

her body to her thighs. “Time, cupcake.”

She folded her hand tight around the small buzzing orb. His eyes never left her hips.

She pressed her closed fist to her belly. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

He frowned.
She took a deep breath, the soft buzz transferring inside her ribs. “I dreamed of this. I

imagined it when I played with myself. I pictured standing before you…” Several of her
fantasies cycled through her mind’s eye. She grimaced and pushed her hand down under
her panties, her fist pressed to the soft, bare skin between her legs. “It seems our wishes
are often answered, but never in the way we expect.”

She opened her hand, studying his compressed lips and narrowed black eyes. His

broken nose and large chin were very strong, contributing to his perfect uniqueness. With
a twist, she popped the little buzzing thing between her labia. It sat deep between her
lower lips, and as soon as it settled into the hollow of her clit, the round grid of light to
her side began to slowly turn.

“Don’t.”
The movement surprised her, but she’d no sooner turned her head toward the wheel

than his command whipped her chin back to face him.

“Focus on me. Me and you.” His voice was harder than she’d ever heard it. He bit

each word off angrily. “I want you to get on your knees, Liese. I want to see your sweet
curves tighten up in a brilliant burst.”

To her surprise, her legs trembled and her knees gave out, as if he had control of

them. Her breasts shimmied when she landed, the weight of them too much for the thin
tank top.

“You’re so lovely. All soft, pale, creamy skin. Those big green eyes and your silky

long hair. My people would consider you ghostly, but I find you delicious.”

It didn’t seem right, but she was now completely turned on. Here in this horrible

place, her heart gave the skip-jump that signaled a commitment to sex, and a flush swept
across her throat, sharpening her breath. Her nipples throbbed, and she bit her lip. The

light pulsed next to her as the wheel began to turn faster, the spindles running from the
circumference to the center, acting like faint strobes. As it increased speed, she swore the
buzz of the egg increased as well.

“I dreamed of you like this, too.” His voice was barely a whisper. He stepped away

from the mat and leaned against the wall. Her gaze drank him in, the muscles and huge
frame, the dark skin. That black webbing wrapped his thighs, angled across his chest and
upper arms. He braced his hands against the wall. “I pictured you on your knees just like
this, only you were nude and in my bed on my ship.”

Her fingers slid along her soft skin, probing the warm wetness. She clenched her

stomach, teeth gritted as the egg settled against her clit. Too strong. Prodding it again, she
shifted it from one side to the other, then nudged it down, so that it sat at the mouth of her
vagina. Tracing one finger around and around her clit, she stared at him, mesmerized
when his soft, fat cock began to lengthen.

“You went off your hormonals … for me.”
She nodded. “I ovulated just a few days ago, Stillskin. Oh, Father, I hope this

works.” So many things could go wrong. Konig could walk in right now and kill them
both. He could kill them on their escape, or track them down before they made it off the
station. She didn’t even know where they could go. “What is linking like? What will I
have to do?”

“You already admitted the most important part: hope. Do you feel good? Will you

tell me about your touch?”

“Yes, I feel good. So sensitive, every brush of my finger sends little zings up inside

me.” Lashes fluttering, heat stung her cheeks at talking to him like this. Her heart
thundered now, booming in her skull.

“Where is the toy?”
“It’s…” she swallowed, and pushed it inside her channel. The sensation instantly

muted, and she stilled, concentrating. Yes, there, she could still feel it. She opened her
eyes.

He sensed her look somehow and his dark gaze rose from her thighs and met hers.
Her lips ached, dry, her tongue softly seeking in her mouth. In that moment she was

never more aware of being a creature of flesh and muscle. Her feet beneath her ass, on
her knees, one hand clutching at her thigh, and the other between her legs. Her head felt
heavy on her stiff neck. “It’s inside.”

The connection of the moment hung in silence against the increased hum of the

machine. In a burst of motion, he stood from the wall and crossed to the tray of toys.
Picking up her dream toy, he tossed it onto the mat directly in front of her. “Use this.”

She stared at it.
“Now.”
His word lashed her and she jumped. One glance at him showed he was fully erect,

his cock long and straight, thick with veins and the same rich brown as his skin. The
funny little nub was now a sword, unsheathed and ready. She licked her lips and stroked
directly over her clit. The strike to her belly was delicious.

She widened her knees, angled her body back, and fingered into herself, pushing the

oval toy deeper but at the same time igniting it to a higher intensity. A droning zzzzz
seized her core, and she began to pant. With her free hand, she reached for the blob
Stillskin had tossed her. It was the newest model of polymer touted to have significant

healing applications, but as usual, the sex industry had experimented with it more widely,
and immediately.

She scooped up the flexible oval disk about the size of her hand and slid it through

the leg of her panties. Without time to think or worry, she pressed it into the secret seam
that ran between her legs. She stared up at him, panting, poised in suspense. “I’ve never
used this before.”

“Neither have I.” He paced along the edge of the mat in front of her, like a feral

uberwald pet. Every step precise, his eyes cut to her chest, to her hidden hand, to the free
hand that now stroked up and down her thigh. “What’s it doing?”

“Heating. Moving.”
“Like the vibrator?”
She shook her head and almost moaned at the beauty of her hair tossing against her

shoulders. “No, it’s just drifting along my folds.” She poked at it with her finger, and it
stuck to her, almost tacky. She pulled free, and lifted her hand from her underwear. “It’s
coating me.”

She felt the heat seep into her vagina, rise along her vulva, and shuddered.
“Is it good?” he asked sharply.
“Yes.” It was so easy to watch him. He was gorgeous. Not in a polished, civilized

way, by anyone’s standards. But something deep inside her loved his primal masculinity.
He wasn’t other because he was a schwarz, he was other because he was the manliest
male she’d ever known. “Whatever happens, Stillskin, I’m so glad I got to know you.”

His eyes flicked at hers before dropping to her crotch. But she’d seen the fire in

them. “Look.”

She glanced down at her spread legs, too lost in the pounding blood of her flaming

body to care about her bulging, too-soft thighs. The sex toy, a soft yellow before but now
a translucent cream lighter than her skin, had drifted out the edge of her panties to coat
the juncture between thighs and hips. It clung, heavy and hot, against her clit, and when it
dripped down to caress her anus, she lost all control and moaned deeply.

“Fucking yes, Liese. So beautiful.”
His encouragement mixed with the buzzing lodged inside her, and she fisted her

hands against her soft belly that pudged slightly between her tank and undies. One was
damp and fragrant, the other clamping so hard her nails bit into her palm. Her heart spun
in time with the now constant pinwheel of light. Then the polymer entered her ass, a
sliding, scalding probe. Her back arched.

“Aaaaahhhh!”
“Liese, yes. Woman, reach for it.”
Her hand slid to reach for her clit, but then the coating began to tighten. It pulled at

her delicate skin, then released when she cried out. A wave of icy cold stung her core,
highlighting the orb, then hit her clit, and then her ass. Her head fell forward, her arms
wrapping tight around herself.

“Look at me. Please. Please, let me share this burden.”
Gasping, straining, she managed to lift her head. Her ass and vagina clenched in

unison. Her mouth hung slack, and then the heatstorm roared back, on the edge of
discomfort. Vagina, clit, and ass. She was on fire. Her hips punched up, and she held his
gaze like a lifeline.

“Damn me to the cold deep, I’m not sorry. I’m not. I’m going to fuck you so hard.

I’m going to make you mine, and watch your body burst with my child. I found you and
I’ll claim you and no one will ever fucking touch you but me.”

She came. It was the most exquisite, shining moment of her life. The light washed a

brilliant pure white, and it fit the stretching of her spirit inside her skin. She seized, high
on her knees, a low, broken groan easing from her. It went on and on, and the image of
him poised to leap at her would always be with her. His knees bent, his cock pointing at
her, his hands clawed as if to do battle. She loved him. Father help her. The alien warrior
so impossibly above a little waystation midlander wanted her. The beauty of it strummed
her spine, and she reached for him.

In a blur of black and brown, he squeezed her hands and brushed her forehead with a

tender kiss. “Breathe.”

She did, sucking in a great lungful, collapsing to the side. Writhing, she cried out at

the wave of icy shock the toy passed into next. Scrabbling at her underwear, she ripped it
down her legs to pry at the sticky toy. She peeled one edge, and wincing, lifted it. But it
slid right off, not nearly as painful as she feared. She coughed when she tugged it out of
her vagina, and grunted when she eased it out of her ass. She tossed it aside, hips falling
to the thick mat. Overwhelmed, her body shuddered in the aftermath of the orgasm, still
rippling with pleasure. The polymer oozed back into a simple oval.

It took her a minute to realize Stillskin had gone to the door and thrown a box of the

pulsing gilt strands into the hallway, strewing them everywhere. Then he dumped them in
front of the closed door, and with a roar, began to shove the strands together. What had
been stiff sticks of flax now flowed in a more fluid way that reminded her of the lovely
toy she’d just discarded. Soon, he had a web of it, not very tight, but enough to hang from
the cornices of the door. It draped over the opening in an awkward web.

“This won’t slow them down long, but anything we can get, I’ll take.”
He leaped over her and grabbed up the third box of pulsing, shining sticks. He set it

down next to where she lay. “You spun the flax into gilt, Liese. Now I need you to use it.
I want you to reach inside me, like you’re straining into the deepest well, and I want you
to catch my true name. Link with me. Find me and be mine. I’ll protect you to the best of
my ability, I swear.”

The wheel was slowing down behind him, the brilliant light fading into soft pulses

again. It threw him into silhouette, his form haloed. He was magnificent. He knelt, and
she gasped at his erection, a massive, engorged reach of flesh. He pulled her tank top off
with one swipe. Her breasts jiggled as they settled.

“The gilt will be hard on you. Don’t fear it. I’m right here, and nothing you do in the

throes of need will harm or disgust me.” He came toward her, one hand braced by her
side, and she could see his face again. His expression, always so closed to her before, was
raw with yearning. “Anything for you, Liese. Anything.”

“Take this toy out and fuck me.” She’d never been more ready to yell a man’s name.
If a dark face could glow, his did for one moment, and she knew love when she saw

it. So precious, even in their desperation. She reached up and touched his jaw. It was
vaguely rough, abrasive with emerging beard. Then the whisper of the fresh gilt he’d just
handled struck her spine. Her eyes snapped wide.

The orgasm she’d shared with him had been the most sensuous she’d ever known,

and the touch of his skin took every raw nerve on her body and strummed it. He put one
hand on her stomach, the spread of his chocolate fingers spanning from hipbone to

hipbone. Scooping one leg wide with a sweep of his knee, he pulled her thighs apart, and
then his finger eased inside her and gently widened her vagina, stretching it.

Her breath slammed from her, her body jackknifing up to grab at his forearm. He

pushed into her belly and rotated the heel of his hand. The buzzing filled the room, and
then he urged, “Push.”

She clenched and nearly came again, but the toy rolled down her channel and

tumbled past her cheeks. He scooped it up, turned it off and tossed it over his shoulder.
Without any other preparation, he moved between her legs, pushed his tip down between
her folds, and pressed himself inside her.

“Ah!” She cried out, eyes flashing wide while his slitted nearly closed, the black

glittering like deep space in the shadows created by the slowing wheel.

“Liese.”
She stared up at him, shocked at how he filled her, how perfect to have him. “Oh…”
Her man lowered his huge barrel chest down, compacting hers to the thrill of her

nipples, and kissed her. His lips were harder than she’d imagined, and skilled, pressing
hers open for his tongue to stroke inside. She rested her hands on his shoulders, feeling
the strips of sinew and flexing muscle. Her beautiful warrior. The gilt might be what
made her feet and palms tingle, but the starfield erupting inside her was all him.

“I love you,” he breathed, and kissed her again, jaw pushing hers open, tongue

reaching deep into her mouth. “It doesn’t matter if you can’t find my name. You’re mine.
I claim you. In slavery or freedom. I’ll fight for you, Liese.”

Her walls clenched hard, and they both gasped. He was so thick inside her, holding

her wide, filling her more than she’d known she could be filled … in both flesh and spirit.
He kissed her, lips cherishing, new and astonishingly right, while his weight held her
pinned for the press of his body. He drove his cock farther inside, past what her body was
used to opening for. His cock pulsed, and tunneled through tissues swollen by the toys.
He kissed her sighs and gasps and moans, licked softly at her hope and love, and lapped
up her resolve.

“Now, Stillskin.” She answered his hushed words with her own.
He reached into the box and grabbed up a fistful of the golden strands.
“Big breath, cupcake.”
She took a breath, although it was more shaky than steadying.
“This is just energy. Shape it.” His hand pressed between her breasts, and between

his palm and her breastbone was a wad of stiff, cold gilt. “Reach into me.”

But how could she reach into him with the onslaught of the drug? Her skin rippled

and stretched. It lifted away from her body as her muscles tightened. She cried out. “It’s
too much!”

“Use the power, Liese.” His hips trembled against hers, interlocked with her. “Your

body is overwhelmed. Let it go. Send it inside me.”

He kissed her, lips dominating her attention, warring with the swirl of impossible

feelings zipping across her flesh. Their panting breaths mingled.

His hand dragged the slender rods of gilt over one breast, down her ribs, and up the

side of her throat. It was like acid, and the sweetest chocolate, a localized orgasm of the
skin, a sort of tight burning shock. Fear twisted with the need. She’d had no idea how
intense it was. Her body heaved, struggling to rub and thrust.

Then his mouth latched onto the left side of her throat, sucking, tongue laving, while

the gilt he held on the right side took any sense of equilibrium. They could have been in
her bunk, in space, in a greenspace, for all she knew. There was nothing but his body in
and against her, nothing but his mouth over her pulse growing wilder with every second.

Her mind spun. Her belly tightened. His shoulders bunched and shivered beneath her

clawing hands.

“Direct it.” He licked along her jaw and kissed her again, a forceful taking. “I need

you, Liese.”

Stillskin needed her. He was trapped and she could free him. She’d wanted this,

wanted his baby, before she was forced here. She could do this. She struggled through the
vortex of sensation as if swimming in the thick air of the exercise lounge. She wanted to
come so badly, but he wasn’t moving, and her skin wasn’t her own.

Through clenched teeth he spoke into her throat. “Who do you think I am?”
She thought he was wonderful. He was noble, and strong. A survivor, powerful,

sexy. Abruptly, out of nowhere, she no longer saw her contained, well-dressed friend
standing in the austere white carb-deli, nor the sexual predator wrapped in black straps in
the cold gray metal room. There was a forest, like she’d seen in vids. It was night, heavily
shadowed.

For the first time, he moved inside her body. Stillskin stroked her with one short,

groaning jab. His muscles trembled. “Fuck! Father above! Go deeper. Say my name!”

The concussion of his movement in her already spinning senses swirled the layered

deep green trees away. She clutched at him, arching as best she could under his weight.
He licked at her throat, long, hard lashes, demanding. Her bones were melting, her
muscles fraying.

The sense of a particular sound popped into her head. Rrrrrr…
“Robart.”
His teeth set into her neck.
“Ronald. Regent.”
“That is not my name.” His voice wasn’t disappointed. He pulled back and stared

down at her. “Try again,” he urged, breathless.

He pushed the gilt down to her chest and surrounded her breast with his thick

fingers, rubbing the gilt in with a massaging grip.

Shrieking, her head thrashed. The dizziness overwhelmed her and she stiffened, so

ready to come. Her nipple was tipped in light. Clenching on him time and again, she
hovered on the brink … but without him, she didn’t want to jump. She dove back into the
forest and this time it streaked past her revealing a mountain cliff, chunky boulders. She
shivered, suddenly cold.

“Say my name.”
“Rupert. Rudolfo… Rurik.”
His body collapsed on top of her, and she gasped, stunned. Had she done it? Had she

guessed correctly?

“That is not my name.” His hips pulled back, a shock of unbelievable pleasure

zipping through her. “I need you. I need to come, I need to make you mine.” He pumped
in her, a longer, harder stroke sending her eyes rolling back into her head. “Liese of the
fresh biscuits, Liese of the smiling green eyes.”

Her jaw flapped and her teeth ached.
“Liese of the kind, soft ways, who saw me as a person, and never judged. Fuck, so

good.” He rolled his face against her shoulder and began to move, short drives that took
control of her heart. The gilt on her chest made her nipple throb, a giant point of need
sucking at her mind.

On a rocky ledge overlooking a dark forest of spiky trees, the wind blew icy. A fire

crackled and danced, a real fire full of the scent of wood and earth. A man sat crouched,
nude, dark even when painted by the flickering light. He stared into the flames.

She knew his name. “Ruud. Rute.”
“I’m sorry. I can’t hold back. I have to pull out.” He began a slow withdrawal that

rippled down her vagina.

She twined her legs around his thighs, wrapping her feet to hold him to her. She

would not let him retreat. She knew him!

“I can’t risk a child! Liese!” He fucked into her again, deep, sweat making him

slippery as she fought to pull him close. “Let me go!”

“No!” She stared at the man, at his fire, at the dark cave behind him. Something

moved in the shadows. “Rum! Your name is Rum!”

His mouth devoured hers, tongue and teeth brutal and wild, and his hips pummeled

her, cramping her body with the force of too much flesh inside her. She marveled,
tightened her legs around his, and tipped her hips up, crushing her clit to him with each of
his blurring blows.

“Yesssss!” He gasped and bit at her mouth, catching her lip, smoothing her tongue,

stinging her buzzing lips.

She came with him, sobbing, laughing, and then he was too, breathless and staring at

her with shock. The moment was perfect, both of them suspended in triumph, blood
singing, connected. A stick of gilt poked her in the shoulder, and one foot was off the
mat, her heel cold on the metal.

She could not believe she’d gotten his name! Lifting her shoulders, she grabbed his

ears and captured his mouth. His hips still stroked her in a slow, soft reflexive wave. This
kiss was gentler and she led him. She took his taste and scent, learned all the textures of
lips, teeth, and palate.

She smiled. “Rummm.”
They kissed, a long private breath melted forever into her memory.

Chapter Four

Their kiss was stolen out of time. He had known she could do it. His bright-eyed,

comp-smart, always cheerful Liese. She’d fought off the gilt and dug into the truth of
him. He’d gone off inside her like a solar flare when she’d spoken his secret name out
loud. Probably, hearing his true name on her lips would have ripped the cum from him
wherever they were, but after the torture of watching her play herself, and then the urging
he’d given her, it had been… magnificent. Simply the best orgasm of his life.

Pleasure still raced in sharp zings down his spine, up his legs. He rocked in her, his

tip compressed and sizzling with the remnants of warm fluid and tight muscles. It was too
much now, as she’d claimed before. The gilt faded out of his system already, so it wasn’t
that. It was just her. Sex with Liese, so good he couldn’t contemplate stopping, even
when the edge of sensitivity tipped into pain. She was his. Linked, he’d gone off inside
her, risking everything. Risking her, their child.

Please, he prayed. He had to get her out of here. She was soft, a cushion of curves

and muscle beneath him. Her nipples carved into his chest, and her breath panted
supernovas against his shoulder. Her small fingers toyed with his spine and he had to
swallow tears, it was so precious. She astonished him. But then, she always had.

There was a shout in the hallway. He closed his eyes, pressing his hips into her heat.

He hated them. It was too soon… Thuds against the walls echoed in the room. Screams
and the sound of something shattering. They’d found the gilt in the hall.

Rum slid from between her legs and she shuddered, arching with shock. She was

gorgeous, flushed, bare. So bountiful. It had been bitter to force the gilt on her, to see her
struggle under it. Had it been worth it, or could he add up the best sex of his life as one
more instance where he’d tortured someone to save his own neck? He knelt between her
legs and put his palms on her belly. He closed his eyes against the stirring sight of his
dark hands with widespread blunt fingers against her palest-peach body. So exotic, so
different.

“Did we do it?” Her heart shuddered against her swollen breasts. She reached to

wipe sweat from her brow, tucking her warm brown hair behind her ears.

He licked his throbbing lips. He needed just a few more seconds to know, but the

fucking prettyboys in the hall raged against the door. They only had moments, plus
whatever his trap at the entrance bought them. He smiled, thinking of their proud,
arrogant selves scrambling on the floor to recover their drug. If he didn’t sense it right
away, there was still a chance over the next few days, but—

The sting hit his palms. It was the spark of activity erupting, a miracle, a connection

triggering a massive division of cells. The sweet heat aching in his fingertips reminded
him of the too-good, too-much ache in the tip of his cock.

Inside Liese’s body, the possibility of new life had begun. It was far from certain,

long from realization, but it would be enough to free him. Thank you, he prayed. For
Liese, throughout this past year. For this chance.

He opened his eyes and met her rich emerald stare. She blinked, that sweep of lashes

soft and lovely. He watched her study his smile and eyes, and his face ached from the
widening stretch of his lips. Understanding dawned and her red mouth formed a little O.

Titanium resolve filled him. Whatever it took, he’d keep her safe.

The door whooshed open and outraged voices took over the room. The gilt he’d

strung at the door proved no delay at all.

The tall, muscular, red-haired man ripped it down, wrapping it around his fists.

“Troll! It was our troll. What are you doing here?” Konig snapped.

Rum’s smile wiped away and his hands dug hard into Liese’ softness. With

tremendous satisfaction and no delusions it would mean anything, he announced, “She’s
pregnant. I’m free. She’s linked with me and therefore mine.” He cocked his fingertips
into Liese’s soft stomach and twisted his wrists slightly.

Her breath caught, but he couldn’t look away from the irate alfen. Every thump of

his heart readied for battle. A few drops of hot, thick blood slid over his fingers, and he
slid his palm hard over the tiny tears he’d made in the skin of Liese’s perfect belly.

Konig wavered where he stood, red eyes shining wildly, huge wads of gilt in each

hand. “I’m afraid there’s a little matter of being off the record.” He shook his fists at
them and his erect golden cock wobbled too. “And the larger matter of tarnishing our gilt,
you foul little gnome.”

Uther lay moaning on the floor of the hallway, writhing in ecstasy, body jerking in

stiff movements that looked painful. Dagmar slumped against the far wall opposite the
door. He could tell at a glance she was dead, her golden skin drained to a sickly yellow,
pink eyes blank. Who knew how she died? Any of them were capable of killing her to
keep the gilt for themselves, or perhaps she’d finally overdosed upon touching the fresh
batch.

Crouching before Liese, Rum ran through three scenarios in one breath. He just

needed to get a drop of her blood to the comm center, to register her pregnancy by him.
Then this slave clamp would be nothing but uncomfortable jewelry. It was down the hall,
through the lounge and off the kitchen. The longest fifty meters of his life. Yet he
couldn’t burst past Konig because to touch him, to rush him, to even leave his presence
without being dismissed would send him into a disabling seizure that held the chance of
killing him.

Konig’s eyes stared at Liese’s nudity, the mat strewn with loose gilt, and the damp

smearing her thighs. The appalled look on his face quickly morphed into an ugly roar of
rage. “You stupid ungrateful cunt!”

Rum growled, saliva bursting into his mouth. How he wanted this man’s throat

beneath his knife. “She’s mine. Back off, Konig.”

Konig strode two steps into the room and swung at Rum. He ducked to avoid the

wide swipe.

“Stand still!” Konig hissed, handsome face twisted into crazed anger.
The clamp twinged a warning as Rum shifted, even though it was only to brace

himself. Konig backhanded him, then did it again from the other side. He did it slowly
enough a child could have dodged, but Rum had to obey.

“Stop it!” Liese screamed.
Rum couldn’t stand this. They were so close. She was his. They had a miracle, a

living link even more precious than their spiritual one. His mind raced. She could run, but
she wouldn’t stand a chance against the troths in the lounge. She could scream for help,
but no one here would care. She could—

Konig turned and smashed his hand across Liese’s face.

Rage erupted and reaction was instantaneous. Rum flew through the air to gut punch

him. Before his hit even landed, he was lost to the pain. His chest was crushed, his lungs
on fire, his head pounding in blinding agony. All he knew was endless darkness as he
fought to live.

* * * *

When he could breathe again, it took a moment for him to see. He blinked the tears

from his eyes, realized he was sprawled on cold metal, and stilled his motions. How long
had he been out from the punishment of his programming and the damn clamp?

Konig was raving at Johann. “I want it on her lips! So her every breath will be laced

with pain and desire. That way I’ll be able to fuck her face night after night, and all she’ll
be able to do is look at me in despair as she sinks into the beautiful need.”

Pressing his lashes together hard, Rum pulled the scene into focus. He was crumpled

half on the mat, one knee and his right ribs throbbing. Liese was bound spread eagle
against the spinning wheel, her head tied upright with a band across her forehead. He’d
been out too long!

Johann stood before her fiddling with a new addition to the room—a tall, delicate

pedestal made of red crystal. Even from his view on the floor, Rum could see the general
shape of the tools laying on it. Tattooing needles and a gilt-atomizer sat in a neat row.

A low, miserable voice said, “He’s awake.”
With a curse, Rum wrenched his neck, turning to the man he hadn’t even sensed on

his far side.

Miller crouched there, staring at him gloomily. His sullen gaze flicked to Konig.

“You told me I’d get the first, fresh gilt. I earned it.”

“Shut up,” Konig said absently. He walked over to Rum and kicked him again, hard,

right in the same throbbing place.

Liese moaned.
“Leave her alone.” Rum’s guts danced and he feared he’d soil himself. It wouldn’t

be the first time. “She made your fucking gilt. Let her go.”

“Why, of course! How silly of me. I’ll just gift wrap a lawsuit even I couldn’t bribe

my way out of and place her on the nightly news as a present.” Konig kicked him again
and Rum coughed, choking on the pain.

“Mmpf!”
His gaze flew to Liese, sweet, kind, soft-hearted, brave Liese. He’d missed the gag

the first time. It stretched her jaw wide and filled her mouth, forcing her lips to protrude.
Fucking icy balls, the sick fucks were going to tat gilt onto her lips.

“No. Konig. No. I’ll negotiate. Think of what I’d willingly give you. She’s worth

anything you want of me.”

Konig pumped his cock wildly, arching his back. Rum’s stomach heaved, thinking

his jism would land on Liese, but he didn’t go off. He spun and scowled at Rum. “I’m
contemplating how much I really need you, Stillskin.”

Liese cried, muffled puffs of air through her nose. Her eyes were red and her cheek

swelled where Konig had hit her.

Johann crossed his arms, strawberry-pink hair falling in silky coils to his shoulders.

“Of course we need him. You know that if we take another dose, it will be even sharper,
but take longer. Don’t kill him off yet. We have at least a year of pleasure left to us.”

Not if Rum had anything to say about it. If he could get Liese’s blood to the comm,

and get this clamp deactivated, both alfen could be dead in minutes by his own hands.

Konig strode to the glittering pedestal. He stroked himself absently now, an

unconscious urge Rum was used to ignoring. “Look at it, Johann. They sullied so much
of it. The most holy of substances in the universe, capable of transforming ordinary
bloodbags into angels of pure spirit.”

Rum’s stomach heaved and he swallowed his bile. To hear Konig’s awe-filled voice

describe gilt in nearly the same way he saw Liese was foul.

Johann huffed. “The gilt may have lost its initial burst on contact as it was gathered

up, but it is still potent and fresh.” He rubbed at his own chest absently, his gaze also
drawn down to the strands, as if the softly pulsing glimmer held some essential truth.
“Ah, sweet heaven. It’s going to be so good. I’m going to do my ass this time, from the
base of my spine down onto the top of my thighs. It will be splendid.”

Konig’s breath came harder. “I’ll fuck you first. Think of it, my cock with a new

layer, your ass lit up with essential fire. Golden dreams.” His hand moved faster on his
cock.

Rum’s mind raced. What could he say to stop them? How could he urge them to let

Liese go?

“If you’re so gut-wrenched at her, why are you blessing her with our precious gilt?”

Miller stood in a burst, hands clenched. “She doesn’t want it. She won’t last under the
yearning. You’re just wasting it!”

Konig reached out a shaking hand toward the gilt, but Johann shoved him. “I agree

with the midlander. There’s eight other alfen here, with Dagmar gone, plus our three
visitors who brought the flax. We could each get that much more instead of wasting it on
her.”

Johann folded his arms and continued, “We can use them against each other, to

bargain for sex. Unwilling yet forced to be willing, think of how delicious it will be. A
sort of rape, but the gilt will register it as freely given.”

Konig stared at Johann, while Rum cautiously tried to sit. The clamp pinched a

warning, but he was able to brace himself upright. Something was about to happen. The
sly calculation he was used to in Konig’s eyes flickered and was gone behind a blank sort
of thirst.

Rum’s chest hairs shivered in warning. Between one breath and the next, Konig had

just broken.

The drug had wiped his mind. Rum had seen this time and again over the last year,

only this time there was no leader to order the destruction of a gilt-mad alfen. This was
going to get very bad very fast. Konig couldn’t be reasoned with, and wouldn’t do
anything remotely logical. He was a living tornado about to be unleashed, unchecked.

“What’s going on?” Miller asked, voice plaintive.
“Shut up,” Johann said absently. He stepped aside in a gliding cross step, away from

the pedestal. “Go get help.”

“Help? Who? Dieter?”
“Yes.” Johann eased farther from Konig and Rum knew he too had seen the shift in

Konig’s eyes.

Miller hurried to the door, still open on the sprawled form of Dagmar. Uther had

crawled away somewhere. He hadn’t cleared the entrance before Konig snatched up a

lance off the pedestal and hurled it at him. Miller fell, sprawling first in the doorway, then
falling to all fours nearly across Dagmar’s feet. He gagged, blood spattering the floor
from a fountaining neck wound. Konig had nailed him in the throat with the short
medical tool.

“Konig!” Johann stood tight to the wall. “There are no enemies here not already in

our control!”

Konig snatched up the golden dish full of gilt and threw the atomizer away. He was

panting, face slack. “Get on your knees.”

Johann looked wildly at Rum. “Go get help!” The order reverberated through the

slave clamp and Rum had time only for one agonized look at Liese, her mouth
grotesquely distended, helpless before a lost gilt addict.

He vaulted Miller’s death throes and pounded down the hall. The usual six troths lay

sprawled in the lounge with a brilliant alfen beauty named Ana. The pile of bodies never
even glanced at him as he bounded low tables and mounds of pillows. He burst through
the kitchen door, used the meat chopping block to swing his momentum around and
lunged into the study. He slammed his palm down on the interface.

For one dizzying moment, he had to wait for the clamp to relay his permission, and

his mind threw up the image of Liese on her knees, purple lingerie clinging to every
curve, her face shining with love as she came for him, for the crazy chance of his
freedom.

“Station emergency,” piped an alert, young voice.
“The alfen enclave needs help.” He spat the words through a fierce grin. He loved

perverting his orders. “Send the polizei. A woman is being held against her will, Liese,
taken yesterday.”

Just a day ago she’d been an impossible dream, a forbidden desire. Now she was his.

He spat on the dried blood caked into the creases of his palm, then smeared it against the
transmitter.

“I, Stillskin of the schwarz, record an end to my slavery based on parentage. I also

register a link with Liese.” His heart shuddered, the clamp never so heavy.

He was lightheaded, imagining the clamp strangling the muscle in his chest. “The

alfen Konig has lost control. He’s killed two people.” Laying Dagmar’s death on Konig’s
cracked shoulders was easy.

“If you can verify my freedom, I can stop him.” So could the lazily fucking troths in

the lounge, but that was beside the point. He pressed a hand to his aching chest. Liese
was bound and alone with a gilt-lost brute. Come on, hurry.

“Just a moment.” The voice sounded rattled.
The open line cut off to the annoying drone of gentle zithers and he stared at it,

incredulous. He rode the cusp of freedom after a year of seething bitterness and betrayal,
and had to listen to bad corporate music.

“What’s this? You can’t use that.” Ana’s soft, slight voice surprised him.
He spun, his head about to explode from frustration. No. He was so close. “Johann

sent me for help.”

She blinked at him. “Help?” Her body still glistened with sweat, or maybe saliva

from her worshipping troths. She was reed thin, with high, tight breasts pierced with ruby
studs. Her eyes were red, but her hair, cut to a close cap that favored her delicate bones,
was a deep magenta. Her belly was tight with muscle and her slight hips led to long,

elegant legs. She stood almost two heads taller than he. After Liese’s soft curves, she
looked frail.

She frowned. “Why, you fucking prick. You ran right past us. Get away from there.”
She stepped forward, but he stepped into her path. She hissed down at him, but he

was following the letter of her order. He stepped forward again, crowding her back, while
she tried to maneuver around him in the small, crowded study.

“Stillskin, this is Burlin’s legality.” A deeper, more authoritative voice crackled from

the comm. “We have your record and have verified your parentage. Your clamp is
deactivated and you may report to med to have it removed. The polizei are on their way.”

For one breathless moment he and Ana stared at each other, both grim.
“Get out of my way!” Ana shrieked. “Station! Strike that order!”
But the line was already chirping the station’s call code in closing. Rum slammed

Ana off her feet with one two-handed push. She skidded into the kitchen on her ass with a
furious wail.

He vaulted over her to the door between the kitchen and the lounge, but six troth

stood there in a towering wall. Rum crouched, testing his knees, and even though his
chest still ached, the words kept replaying in his brain like the purest spike of gilt: your
clamp has been deactivated…

One man with light brown hair stepped forward. “It’s the little black shadow. What

did you do to Ana, you stupid slave?”

He really wanted to stay. His fingers itched to gouge and his arms were ready to

pound and reach. He was so eager to use his body to the fullest extent of his training. But
Liese needed him.

With a running bound, he launched himself up in a two-footed landing on their

spokesperson. As he staggered back under Rum’s weight, Rum executed a kickspin off
him, snapping the neighboring muscle’s head back sharply. Landing with a twist, he
flipped to his feet and dove in a somersault through the gap he’d made. He side-vaulted
across the stage where Miller had given up Liese’s name just two nights ago, and sprinted
hard for the hall.

He had to backpedal to slow himself, and hop awkwardly over the obstacle of

Dagmar and Miller, who gasped faintly, not quite dead. Throat tight, he landed inside the
room and froze. Liese was still bound, tears streaking her cheeks. Johann and Konig were
rolling on the floor, literally clawing at each other as Konig fucked him, while Johann
bled from his nose and ears.

The gilt on the floor from their linking was now layered even more thickly, and both

men held fistfuls of it, their eyes rolling up in their head in a truly ghastly way. Rum
skittered past their kicking feet and rushed to Liese. He reached for her wrist and froze.

There on the rise of her breast just over her heart were three bloody pricks. And

shining from the fresh red spots were three golden drops of gilt. His gaze scanned the rest
of her critically. She was bare, gorgeously so. Her generous chest was flushed and her
nipples were engorged. On the floor in front of her lay a tat needle. His heart tried to
trade places with his shriveling balls, but he was trained to act through panic and fear. His
fingers were untying her wrist even as his gaze swept the wire contraption across her jaw.

He freed her hand, and she immediately reached for the tiny triangle of spots on her

chest. He grabbed her hand and kissed the back of it. “No, cupcake. Hold onto me.”

Her hand latched into his shoulder like a grappling hook but he didn’t mind. He’d

left her alone with them. She’d never forgive him. He’d failed her. He would face this
with her, but first he had to take her away.

“I’m free, Liese. We’re going.” He freed her other wrist, and after a quick check over

his shoulder, knelt.

He’d freed her first ankle by the time the first troth and Ana appeared in the

doorway. There was a lot of shouting, but he focused on bracing Liese upright and
getting her other ankle free. He’d gotten the first knot undone when she pounded on his
shoulder and squeaked. He turned and stood in one movement, taking the blow the troth
had aimed at her right over his slave clamp.

The pain took his breath away, but he stood through it, while the man screamed and

staggered into the wall, holding his wrist and howling in agony. Taking one stride
forward, he grabbed up the man’s pretty blond hair and used it to bash his head into all
the available metal. The meaty thunk was so satisfying he did it until the man’s weight
pulled him from his grip. Rum dropped his body to the floor.

He turned, and Liese was crouched, pulling her foot from her last binding. She

scuttled to him and he curved his arm around her, already sliding her along the wall to the
door. Ana was trying to pull the two alfen apart, but Rum wasn’t sure if she was
interrupting sex or a fight.

Liese reached for the gag but he took her wrist and held it. “Not now, love.

Priorities.”

Another troth popped up in the door and a quick flurry of throat blows rendered him

a doorstop.

Rum’s hands stung and he reveled in the hot rush of battle. He checked the hallway

with a quick glance, both directions, then timed the flailing trio on the ground. He picked
Liese up and put her in the hall first, then scooted himself out after dodging a wild kick
that hadn’t been aimed at him. He led her down the hall, mind working on what kind of
money he could get access to for their trip off the station.

“I told her you weren’t worth it.” Dieter, the best fighter the enclave had, stood up

from a stack of pillows next to the door just inside the lounge. “Well, if it isn’t pretty
green eyes we picked up the other day. Leaving so soon? I don’t think you’ve been
cleared to go, sweets.”

The rush of adrenaline cleared his blood like fog before a storm. Dieter’s icy gaze

lingering on Liese’s nudity was set aside, boxed up along with her golden tats, along with
his new freedom. The next three minutes would decide everything. Rum spoke without
taking his eyes off the dangerous man. “Work your way along the walls to the kitchen.
The outer door there is coded to gamma-63-epsilon-dot-87. Go to the polizei. I’ll find
you.”

Dieter’s eyebrows rose up his forehead. “What’s this? Is the itty bitty schwarz

slipping his clamp?”

“Go, Liese.” Rum shoved her along the wall and attacked.
He’d worked out by himself every day, but training couldn’t be substituted. He knew

after three exchanges that he was rusty, slow, and out of shape. Also, he could feel his
heart straining inside the damn clamp.

All he had to do was last until Liese got away. Dieter leaped for Liese and Rum

tackled him, but the man was a great wrestler. She scurried and stumbled over the tables
and pillows, one hand on the wall, the other pressed to her chest where those damn three

pricks still bled. Dieter hit him a good blow to the solar plexus and lunged. He almost got
her ankle, but she kicked her knees high and eluded him.

The thought of one more piece of violent hateful filth hurting Liese sent Rum into

the dark zone. He revved up a level and was able to hold his own with Dieter for the next
several exchanges. His Liese was in the kitchen, and he gauged the moments, passing
battle-slow, judging when she’d open the door and be away. They were each crouched on
the floor for a breather, eyeing each other’s wounds before one of the final rounds, when
Liese stepped into the kitchen door.

“I forgot the last numbers. Dot what?”
Rum’s lungs collapsed in terror. Dieter grinned at him. He was one stretching pace

away from grabbing her, while Rum was almost three. The man would only need a
moment to snap her neck out of sheer spite. Dieter’s thighs bunched, ready to leap.
Rum’s world narrowed to the red square door frame. Too far. His best wasn’t good
enough. He’d promised her.

Dieter’s muscular body twisted, soaring in a backwards arc toward Liese’s bare

curves. Now her mouth was bleeding, and the gag dangled like a hideous necklace around
her throat.

“No!” Rum dove after him, knowing he wouldn’t make it.
CLANG! Dieter crumpled to the ground and Rum landed on top of him, staring at

the white bone shining through the bloody gash in the side of his head.

Crouched, he stared up at Liese.
She clenched a golden frying pan in two hands, staring down at the huge troth. “I

always was good in the kitchen,” she whispered.

“Polizei! Clear the entrance for an emergency!” The muffled shouts came from the

lobby just beyond the lounge.

Arguing objections echoed from the private guards posted there.
“Through the kitchen, quick!” He shoved at her and she hurried, still clutching her

pan with its smear of blood.

He finished the code on the blinking interface and the kitchen door slid open.

Glancing outside, he saw the alley he’d left and entered through on his weekly shopping
trips. He grabbed up a long, thin polishing cloth and wrapped it around Liese’s hips. He
hustled her out while he knotted two wine towels, draped them around her neck, crossed
them over her breasts, and tied them behind her back. The homemade halter didn’t
contain her pretty round tits, but it protected her beautiful body. She dropped the pan into
a recycler as they stepped from the alley.

It chirped in protest. “Incompatible refuse! Bodily fluids detected.”
He guided her through the daytime crowds in this area of eateries and trendy shops,

ignoring the whistling laughter, ducking into the first clothing shop. He pulled the first
long dress off the rack and drew it over her head.

She fed her arms through, staring at him with eyes that were too green in a too pale

face. He rubbed at the torn corner of her mouth with his thumb, aching to kiss her, to stop
and hold her tightly. She was breathing so deeply she was going to hyperventilate.

“Slow down. Big breaths. With me, deep and slow.”
She tried to inhale with him, but had to take several small bursts. “Trying.” She

pressed a hand to her chest again. The dress was a busy flower print in bright blues that
didn’t suit her at all. “Hurts. The tats. They burn.”

Fuck. Fuck, fuck. The clerk fussed at him, and he barked out his friend Lex’s

account, praying it hadn’t changed.

Liese rubbed at her crotch, her fingers folding high through her dress. “Hurts, Ru—

uh—Stillskin.”

He nodded to her, acknowledging she had to call him his public name, and that he

knew the gilt was coursing through her blood with every moment.

“Soon. Remember my name, sweetness.” Konig had used his talent as a personal sex

toy for a year, disgusting Rum. But for Liese, he’d still her skin a thousand times with
patience and care. It would be all right, he told himself, cupping her nape and resting his
forehead against hers for a moment. Gilt held no power over a schwarz, and now she was
linked to him. “We have to rent a transport and get off station, Liese. Do you have any
friends who can help us?”

She nodded. He plucked a black skirt off a rack and stepped into it, but it didn’t

button around his waist, so he picked up a shiny black belt as well and cinched it on. He
tossed her a pair of loose shoes held on by a lacing over her toes, and found a sweater that
stretched enough to mostly cover him. It was a horrible shade of red, and for a moment,
he almost ripped it off in protest. He never wanted to see the color red again. But it would
help them maneuver through the station better than the sex-straps he was sealed into.
There were no shoes remotely close to fitting him, so he towed her out of the shop
barefoot.

The polizei zoomed up to the enclave’s back entrance, brilliant white lights flashing,

unforgivably yet oh-so-conveniently late. No doubt it was arranged that way, to allow
any guilty parties an escape. How lovely that this time it also allowed the innocent out.

Trotting through the narrower corridors, he hesitated at the first public glider. It

would be the most likely place they’d check for them, if they were tracked. Yet he was
registered as free, and since Liese was linked to him, Nanda law recognized her as his.
The alfen would never be able to take her and then deny they had her again, because he’d
always be able to find her and couldn’t be gainsaid. It was likely any functioning alfen
would not want their troths to confront him in such a public place.

He stepped onto the tube-like glider, his arm tight around Liese, who leaned on him

from her slightly greater height. She shivered uncontrollably. For any number of
reasons—their linking, her capture, his leaving her, her tattoo, his battle, their escape—
she was probably in shock. He chafed her arms as the vehicle floated along too fucking
sedately, trying to warm her. A frowning man looked at his skirt and bare feet and Rum
bared his teeth at him. He paled and looked away with a sniff.

She buried her face in his neck and spoke for the first time in a long while. “If you

don’t stop stroking me like that, I’m going to come screaming in the middle of this car.”

He froze, his gaze darting to the young family on their left and the elderly couple on

their right, and the group of five middle-aged men at the far end of the glider talking
quietly.

He bent his lips to her ear. “Whatever you need is all right with me.”
A tremor shook her and after a breathless moment, he realized she was laughing. He

buried his nose in her throat. She still smelled like vanilla and freedom. She was
astonishing. His strong, stout Liese.

“Get off at the next stop,” she said. “My friend Günter lives here with his parents.

He’s been teaching me a lot about ships lately. He’ll know how to get us off station.”

Chapter Five

By the time they boarded the flight two hours later, Rum—no, she had to call him

Stillskin—was holding her up. Tell him. Just ask. She needed him. Any moment she’d
crumple to the ground in sexual hysteria. She ground her teeth continuously, struggling to
focus on maneuvering the thin cold aisle of the transport ship to their private room.

“Welcome aboard the Starmas.” The bubbly crew member tried to cover her shock at

seeing a schwarz with hyper-friendliness, but failed. “If you’ll just follow me to your
quarters.” She held onto Rum’s gaze as she pivoted, turning her head only when it
threatened to dislocate from fascination.

She bounced down the hall with an energy Liese despised. “Please remember to stay

in your living space at all times. Crew assistance can be summoned with the large red
button beside the hall and lav doors.”

Liese tuned the woman out and concentrated on not drooling down her front. She

hated to lean on him. They’d kicked him, and that fight in the hideous red and gold
lounge had been brutal. Their blows had been so hard and fast. His bruises might not be
as glaring on his chocolate-colored skin, but she saw them. He wore a proper waystation
tan jumper now, courtesy of Günter, but she still had on the hideous blue dress.

He was already in contact with his friends, who were arranging to meet them outside

Nanda jurisdiction. Günter and Rum had agreed they’d need to take a ship that was
stopping at a transport hub, instead of one heading directly out of Nanda space. It would
have been too obvious, and if the alfen pursued them, risky. So they were on this wreck
of a ship, but would be at Koll in a few hours, and out of Nanda by tomorrow.

It was all very thrilling, when she forced her mind from the throbbing between her

legs. “I can’t believe this is happening.” After all that soul-searching about approaching
Stillskin to help him earn his freedom, she’d been kidnapped and brought to him. Her
hands pressed against her belly. They were pregnant. “I can’t believe it.”

But he’d gotten her out, drenching her in gilt and sex, and she’d found his name.

Rum. She savored the word, secretly swallowing the rich, smooth sound of it. Rum
Stillskin, her schwarz, the father of her baby, her lover. “This can’t be happening.” The
man who now had to deal with a woman carrying around three throbbing pebbles of gilt.

Her thighs swished together with each stumbling step. She could feel her swollen

labia dripping. Her breasts throbbed, the thin fabric teasing her impossibly sensitive
nipples. The man had just overcome a year of slavery and saved her ass. He deserved
care, and celebration, and peace. But all she wanted to do was cry, and beg, and suck his
dark cock.

“It’s an honor to have you on board, Mein Herr.” The guide had taken them to their

room and should report to the bay to escort the other travelers waiting in line, but she
hovered in the doorway. Her gaze went between them, no doubt confused by what a
schwarz was doing with her.

“I’m sure we’ll be comfortable.” Rum’s voice dismissed her smoothly as he stepped

into her space to shoo her out the door. The door whooshed shut and he immediately
coded it for privacy. “We’ll be as comfortable as we can be on a tyrolean girder. We’re
packed in here like protein bars.”

He turned toward her, and she licked her tingling lips. “That’s the price we pay for

taking a ship that doesn’t require registration.” It was adorable, how he’d fussed about the
engine, the shielding, and the outrun security. Like they had a choice. “I can’t believe I’m
on a ship.” She’d never been on one, ever. Never thought to be. She’d been content at the
carb-deli.

“Here now, Liese.” He knelt before where she perched on the edge of the bunk,

taking her trembling hands in both of his. “I wish you’d stop saying that. Hasn’t anything
in the past day taught you to believe?”

“I want to be as bold as you. I’m trying.” She blinked the tears from her eyes, feeling

weak and broken. “They put it in me, Rum. I can feel it coursing through my skin. My
dress is turning me on. Every step was a battle.”

“I know, love.” He pushed the long, knee-length dress up to her hips, and then got it

from under her butt. In a shiver-inducing sweep, he pulled it off over her head. Just like
that she was nude. “I’m so sorry. I left you alone to get us both out, and it was the hardest
thing I’ve ever done.”

She stared wide-eyed at him. Grabbing his face, she tried to look deep into his pine

mountain cave. “Never think this is your fault. Never.”

He made to turn his face, but she held him.
His eyes slid away though. “It was Konig, wasn’t it?”
It had been but she wasn’t going to indulge his morbid self-torture. She shook her

head, bowing forward to nuzzle him. “I have to tell you something. I have so much
trouble just saying what I want. You are special, and I’m just a midlander carb-deli girl—
”

“Don’t even dare—” He pulled back from her hold.
She pressed her hand over his mouth. “Let me finish. Please. I’m such a coward,

struggling through this unbelievable mess. But I’m with you. I’m with you, and ever
since I met you, it’s all I wanted.”

He pulled her hand off his mouth, kissed the palm, and cupped the back of her neck.

Her other hand slid along his face, feeling the hard stubborn reality of him, the warmth
and the coarse beard shadowing his jaw.

His nostrils flared as he closed his eyes. “How I ever found such a special, open

spirit while I was a slave in some pittance of a Nanda waystation is a mystery. Your
kindness kept me sane, Liese.”

“Oh!” She bit her lip, pulses in her clit sending her hips rocking on the slick

synthetic covering of the bunk. “Rum, I need you to make love to me. I need it wild and
hot and most of all, just for us. The gilt is taking me. I can feel it distracting me, almost
like it’s eating me. Just love me through it for now.”

His hand on her neck tightened and pulled her in. She swooped down to meet his

mouth. Ah, better than fresh cookies. Better than waking late on her day off. Better than
her favorite toy buzzing her away in the night. He was extravagance, and she was used to
modest living. His lips pressed hers. Everything settled.

His mouth was so much larger, yet worked her with such control. His tongue

flickered at her lips. The sensation awed her, just from their kiss. Then the stillness faded
and urgency poured in. The gilt tugged, aching, pestering her to increase the pleasure.

The lights flashed green, and an obnoxious siren blatted them apart.
“We’re undocking. Ah, sweet. It’s been so long, Liese. You’re mine.” He nibbled at

the swell of her lower lip, dead in the center.

“What do you mean ‘so long’?” She licked into his mouth, and his moan was as

exciting as his strong tongue working against hers. “You just had me mere hours ago.”

“Our linking was lovely, never doubt. But our lives hung in the balance. We were on

their turf.”

There was a clunk that echoed in the walls, and then a moment of vertigo.
He smiled, wide and devilish. “Now we’re on mine.”
She bussed him, the bubbling of his happiness mixing with her craving. “Not exactly

turf, though!”

“Spiritual turf.” His fingers threaded into her tangled hair. “With my spiritual wife,

the friend who never let me fade away. Every week, stepping into your shop to see you in
that ridiculous hat—”

“Hey!” She found his sealseam and toyed with the release.
He tugged on her hair, already dry from her shower at Günter’s, and it was like he

tugged on her womb.

Tell him. She would. She was done holding back, done doubting. “Do that again.”
He met her eyes. His smile slid away. His breath washed her lips, and he slowly,

steadily closed his fist and tightened the pull on her strands. Her scalp directly behind her
ear lit up, the sensation spreading in a wave around her head, scorching across her face.

“Rummm.” She fell on him, arms wrapping tight around his neck, meeting his mouth

with all the savagery of love long hidden, suddenly free. “Rum!” She canted her head
opposite his, and squirmed on the bed at the way his teeth caught her flesh.

“Liese. My Liese.”
He kissed her, and kissed her, and she felt her body weeping with the joy he brought

her. His hand cupped her breast, lifting the weight of it, thumbing the tip so her body
jerked with each shock of him. “Do you believe us yet? We’re away. We’re together.”

He squeezed her breast, his strength sending her thighs into a tight clench around the

need. “Feel me. I’m right here.” His hands were so big they encompassed the sphere of
her. He was perfect.

Her finger slid his seam open while her mouth devoured his neck and his fingers

closed around her nipple. Ridiculous sounds squeaked and groaned from her, but she
couldn’t stop them.

“At this very moment, I’m tugging on your nipple, as pink as your hat. Do you

believe that, Liese?”

He tore his arms out of the suit, pushing the shoulders free and shoving it down to

his thighs. His cock was long and dark, rigid and far from smooth. She wavered on the
bed, clutching at the edge, struggling to focus and stay upright. His body without the
alfen halter was magnificent. They’d tried to decorate his strength, to twist his form into
something controlled, but here was the truth. Power rode his blood and bones and they’d
been fools to try to contain him. Her awe fed the gilt and her thighs spread wider.

His mouth swooped down and encased the tip of her breast, his tongue and teeth a

strike rocking her head back. Her hair brushed the crack of her ass, and her fingers
traveled compulsively around and around the gold dome on his pec, the encasing flesh
pulled tight. He’d need surgery to remove it.

“It has no power over me. Only you rule my heart now. Believe it, Liese. Believe in

us.”

With a twist and a masterful jerk, her legs were splayed, he was high on his knees,

and his erection poised to breach the cavern of her body. She arched, grinding her breasts
into the rough hair of his chest.

“Ahhh, take me. Yes, baby. Anything you want.”
She couldn’t talk when she could barely breathe. Her lids fluttered and sensations

bombarded her. The slick coverlet beneath her ass, the beads of her sandal biting into one
foot, his hips pressing her legs so wide the skin pulled at her inner thigh. His chest was
hard and hot against hers, a maelstrom of pleasure she pressed and rubbed into. Her
hands slid over his shoulders and down his back, where the unfamiliar masculine muscles
leaped and danced with every teasing flex of his hips.

He kissed her ear, his tongue slicking along the curve of it, his lips nibbling the lobe.

Then his ass tightened and he entered her. The breath and heat and moisture of him drove
inside her, drilling into her body with relentless strength. The moan ripped from the
bottom of her lungs added to it all, a reverberation of the most cutting purity she’d never
known.

“Is this what you wanted? Did you dream of it?” He drew back out, a slick slide.

When his tip eased free, she sobbed, her nails carving at his shoulder blades. Compacting
his body, he slammed into her.

Her mouth hung open as her body sang with shock.
“Well I’m no dream. I’m real. This is real.” He withdrew and thrust home, a brutal

slash through her soft tunnel. “This is making love with me. This is being free with me.”
He stroked her, controlled and decisive, his lips drifting down her neck, back up, and
along her jaw. His tongue curled across her pulse, flickered at her collarbone. He thrust,
long out and deep in. “Who’s in your body, Liese?”

He held himself pressed inside, and she hung over his shoulder, limp, yet wound like

a coil below the waist. Her legs climbed his thighs, desperate to drape over his ass. He
crushed her against him, and her body twinged, protesting his occupation. “Answer me.”

The dangerous growl made her roll against him. She gurgled, struggling to reach for

what he wanted.

One of his hands at her hip eased over the deep curve of her waist and pressed her

spine down, lighting up every rib. His finger was too thick to toy far down her crack, but
he played along the edge of her cheeks. “Answer me.”

The rushing, demanding gilt flew through her body, pooling around and down

toward her clit. It was like floodgates opening, a waterfall rush, and in the constant
torrent, she was able to seize her anchor. “Yes, Rum. I believe you’re in my body, here
and now.”

“Thank you, Liese. Thank you for everything.” His kiss ghosted over the energy of

her pulsing lips, and then his head bent.

She canted hers away, giving him access to her throat, but he kept going, his chest

twisting as he lowered his mouth to her breast. Cool air washed her nipple, and she
squeezed his erection with all the muscles of her lower body. But he didn’t touch her
breast after all. He stopped at the very rise, and licked across the three gilten dots with the
flat of his tongue.

She screamed, body jerking rigid in the safe bonds of his. He surged up and she was

on her back, with him thrusting, rocking, stroking her hard and steady. He sucked at the
gilt and light sizzled, dimming her vision. Her muscles locked, her arms and legs flung

out on the soft bunk. She couldn’t breathe but didn’t want to. She wanted it to go on, and
it did. With a masterful swish of his hips, he dragged her orgasm past surprise into
bedazzlement.

His teeth set into the flesh there, and it was soft enough to give him some depth. She

could feel the lump of gilt pinched between his teeth, and her hips thrashed beneath his
wild movements. Sublime, shimmering beauty filled her muscles. She stared at his
twisted face, his scar a stark ridge, and knew that no matter what happened with the drug,
her love for him would overcome it. The faint light from the powered gilt lit his skin and
turned him into a bronze monster, grimacing, panting. Another orgasm spilled over her,
rattling her toes.

He cursed, moaning, licking again at the sparkling raw spot. “Liese, I need to tell you

something.”

She really couldn’t talk. One arm flopped onto his upper arm where it braced beside

her. He was sweaty and she loved it. He thrust hard a few more times. Her straining
muscles ached, but it was gorgeous pain. Her nipples chafed now that the intensity had
passed, but it was still perfect. Her body rocked under his. He grunted, shifted, and began
landing with more strength, his hips slapping against her splayed legs.

“I can nullify the tattoo.” His neck striped with taut muscle.
“What?” she breathed.
“I can kill the gilt. Remember? It’s what they stole me for. But I wanted to taste you

with it first. I wanted you to know you didn’t have to be afraid of it. We’ve survived
using it both outside and inside our bodies. It doesn’t have power here, between linked
lovers.”

Her hands glided up his shifting back. “Take it away, Rum. Right now.” Her words

puffed in time with his thrusts.

“It’s all right—”
“Stillskin. Set your power upon me. Overwrite this damn gilt. I don’t need it. I don’t

want its extra burn. Just you.”

He groaned and snarled, his body so heavy, so deep. His hips churned faster and

faster, and then his power washed through her. She knew this sensation. It was very much
like the new polymer toy she’d indulged in to make the gilt. The heat slid out of her body,
running from the wave of emptiness.

But it wasn’t like the sensation of cold that had tormented her then, because there

was no sensation at all. Her skin went still. For the first time since they seized her, she
was calm. The aching points Konig had stabbed into her chest erased. To be wrenched
from such an overwhelming pleasure into this odd silence disoriented her for a moment,
and she clutched at Rum’s strong arms.

His body strained and drove into hers in a frenzy. She stared up at him, awed. He

was so powerful. His climax took him, and he cried out once, short and hoarse. His body
ground into hers, shaking, his weight folding her ribs, and his thighs shivering down the
length of hers.

Watching his every muscle etched in stark relief, she marveled. She’d done this. His

body had found such pleasure in hers, it had taken him to this point of tortured ecstasy.
She’d met his needs, and he’d always meet hers, gilt or no gilt. His body jerked, hot hips
grinding into hers, a grunt blowing from his working jaw, and just like that she ignited.

With a long, building cry, Liese’s insides blew apart with colors.

“Ah! Liese!” He tightened against her, his cock an impossibly swollen pulse inside.
The moment hung, and then his head fell to her shoulder, and she couldn’t breathe

but now very much needed to. She choked, urgently shoving at his arm.

He shivered, and shifted just enough to the side so she could grab air. “Liese!

What—Did you come?”

She nodded, gasping in time with him.
He moaned, his hips rocking with tiny compulsive thrusts. “How?”
Weakly, she shook her head. “You sent me there. So beautiful.”
“That’s never happened. You resisted my dampening.”
“No, I felt it. Or rather, didn’t feel. But it didn’t matter. When you came… I needed

to, also.”

He panted against her throat. Kissing her briefly, he rolled, sliding out of her to rest

along her side. “That’s amazing. Maybe it’s because we’re linked.”

She draped her arm over her eyes. “Does it matter? Was it wrong for me to come

with you?” It had been pure emotion. Her body had nothing to do with it.

“Not at all.” His hand rubbed circles into her belly. “Totally blew my mind, that’s

what you did.”

She laughed. It was a quiet, breathy chuckle, but then she burst out with a deeper

laugh. “I got high. On you. It was a mind-fuck of the first order.”

His hand rotated over her breast, and the first wave of returning sensation sizzled

across her body, pebbling her skin.

One calloused finger grazed the slightly sore place on her upper breast. “Do you feel

it?”

“I feel you now, and I feel disgustingly sticky. But no, I’m gilt free.”
He leaned in and kissed the side of her breast, then curled his tongue in a wicked

precision swirl around her nipple. “We deserve every pleasure, every joy in each other.
No guilt here.”

“Ha, ha,” she groaned. But she lifted a weighted hand worried at the spot herself. She

didn’t feel anything, just herself. “Do you really think it’s gone? Will it reactivate if I
become aroused?”

He nipped the very tip of her nipple and she squeaked.
“Look at me.”
She was glad to.
His eyes were deep, long lashed, and steady. “What will happen if it does?”
She licked her lips, staring at him. Then a grin stretched her mouth, and continued,

spreading wide across her face. “We’ll have fantastic sex, that’s what.”

He nodded once. “Yes. And then I’ll wipe it back out, and we’ll wait. Every time

you need, you can come to me.”

“Am I addicted?”
He tapped her on the nose. “You’re addicting, that’s what I know.”
This charming, teasing side of him delighted her. She laughed, chest jiggling.

“Rum!”

“I love it when you say my name.” He ducked into her throat and kissed her until she

lay in a puddle, utterly relaxed.

“I love you, Rum Stillskin.” Peace wove through the melody of happiness inside her.
He kissed down the center of her body and headed lower.

She shivered. “I’m the luckiest woman in all the jurisdictions.”
Dragging his teeth along the padded ridge of her hip, he growled, “Believe it.”
His breath washed over her soaking folds and she stared down at his darkness

between her thighs. “I do.”

The End

About the Author:

Mima is a dreamer in upstate New York. When people query her on what she’s

reading, she answers proudly and simply, “A really sexy romance.” She firmly believes
women know the difference between fantasy and reality, and need both. No matter how
sweet the kids, husband, mother, cats, house(work), and job are. Mima is at
[e-mail] and www.mimawithin.com

Meet Lsb Authors At The House Of Sin

Lsbooks.Net

We invite you to visit Liquid Silver Books

LSbooks.com

for other exciting erotic romances.

2007: Terran Realm

Urban fantasy world: TerranRealm.com

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