PANDORA AND THE PRISONER

A SCIFI ALIEN ROMANCE (ALIEN ABDUCTION BOOK 16)

HONEY PHILLIPS

CONTENTS

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Epilogue

Author’s Note

Other Titles

About the Author

Copyright © 2022 by Honey Phillips

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author.

Disclaimer

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or people, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Cover by Maria Spada Book Cover Design

Edited by Lindsay York at LY Publishing Services

Created with Vellum

CHAPTER ONE

Crouched amongst the rocks, Boxtar watched with satisfaction as the Sleestik trading caravan came to a halt on the far side of the river. A group of the small reptilian males gathered on the bank, viewing the damaged bridge with dismay.

“I do not like this,” Worvak muttered.

Boxtar laughed. “You never like anything.”

His second-in-command was notorious for disapproving of any new idea.

Worvak ignored his response. “We should confront them directly and defeat them in glorious battle.”

“There’s nothing glorious about slaughtering Sleestik merchants who are half our size.”

“We could leave them alive,” Worvak conceded, but Boxtar only shook his head. They’d had this argument several times since he first came up with the scheme.

“I don’t like it either, but it is the fastest way to achieve our goal and we’re running out of time. Winter is almost upon us.”

He snuck an uneasy look over his shoulder at the mountains looming over their side of the river. The snow on their peaks was an ominous reminder of the winter that would soon be descending on Maskah.

“Now he would be a worthy opponent.”

Worvak’s comment drew his attention back to the bridge as one of the Daichin strode out onto the damaged planks. He was as large as Worvak, his muscular build clearly visible beneath a weapons harness and brief loincloth. The primitive attire, along with his impressive tusks, gave him a fearsome appearance, but he looked more thoughtful than angry.

“That’s unusual,” Boxtar said softly. “You don’t usually see a Daichin with a group of Sleestiks. He must be working as a guard for the caravan.”

Worvak clenched his enormous fists. “Then I will defeat him and the Sleestiks will bow before us.”

Boxtar sighed. Worvak still saw everything in terms of the warrior culture in which he was raised.

“We proceed with the plan. If the Daichin doesn’t succumb tonight, then you may have your battle after all.”

The Daichin returned to the traders, and they huddled around him to discuss their next steps. As they did, a small redheaded figure darted out onto the bridge. A female, he realized immediately, although unlike any one he had ever seen before. An odd shirt, very short pants, and brightly covered foot coverings left most of her pale, unarmored arms and legs bare. Who was she?

As he watched, the Daichin started to stride out after her. The female turned to run and the plank she was on crumbled, sending her plunging down into the swirling waters below.

No! He was almost to his feet before Worvak yanked him back down.

“You cannot reach her in time.”

Before Boxtar could argue, the Daichin dove into the water after the female. He caught a glimpse of the red head popping to the surface—once, twice—and then the Daichin reached her, seizing her just before both of them disappeared out of sight around a bend in the river.

“I told you this was a bad idea,” Worvak said gloomily.

“You expected a foolish female to try and run across the bridge?” he snapped, although he was more annoyed at himself than his companion.

The scheme had been intended to save lives, not cause additional harm.

“No, you could not have known that a female would accompany them, or that she would be so foolish.” A big hand briefly touched his shoulder. “The Daichin has her now, and this is their territory.”

The Sleestiks were jabbering again, but the one who must be the chief ignored them. He made his own way out on the bridge, walking all the way across before returning and issuing a peremptory order. Despite their obvious reluctance, three of the males harnessed themselves to the first hover sled and slowly and nervously pulled it across the bridge. A cheer went up from the other traders, and the process was repeated.

Just as Boxtar had planned, it took a long time for the traders to pull each individual sled one by one across the rickety surface. It would be midafternoon before everyone was across, and they would undoubtedly camp at the chosen site. As he watched the painstaking process, he wondered yet again how he had descended to such desperate measures.

Ten years ago he’d been a rising young officer in the Balain Fleet, only to find himself sentenced to an Imperial prison for a crime he did not commit. And not just any prison—he had been condemned to the secret underground portion of that prison and his only choices were to fight or die. If it hadn’t been for Worvak’s stubborn determination to find him, he would still be there, but somehow the big Harkan managed not only to track him down, but to devise an escape plan.

It wasn’t until after he escaped that he realized he still wasn’t free. In the eyes of the Imperial government, he was an escaped convict. He had no skills other than the ability to fight and no legitimate military would have him. Instead, he ended up here on a backwater planet with almost no Imperial presence, stealing from a trading caravan.

“That is the last one.” Worvak nudged him, drawing his attention back to the river as the final sled reached their side of the river.

“Very well. Let’s make sure that everything is in place.”

They slipped back up through the rocks, then made their way along the wooded slopes overlooking the trail below. Unburdened by the sleds, they quickly overtook the caravan and reached the rest of their band. His males and their mounts were concealed in the woods above a wide meadow with a stream running along one side.

“Is everything in place?”

“Sure, boss. But what if they don’t stop here?” Gazar asked. He was a lean, innocent-looking Lyosian, but his looks were deceptive. A genius with a knife, he was also fast, sly, and smart.

“They will,” he said firmly, refusing to admit his own doubts. “This is the only site within a reasonable distance of the bridge that provides enough room for them to gather.” He shrugged. “And if they do bypass it, they will have to sleep strung out along the trail and we will pick them off that way.”

He hoped they would not. If they camped at the chosen site, the little surprise that Housen, another one of his band, had prepared should make the robbery a simple matter.

A short time later, the first of the sleds came into view, then halted at the edge of the clearing as the leader and his males began to argue. Based on the body language, Boxtar suspected the leader was trying to insist that they move on and his males were rebelling. At last, the leader threw up his hands and stepped aside, and the sleds began moving into the open meadow.

In typical Sleestik fashion, they arranged the sleds around a central gathering point and started gathering wood for a fire. A few of them set up their traveling tents, but as he had hoped, most of them simply arranged their bedrolls on the ground around the fire.

Excellent.

The sun set while they were making camp, and darkness crept over the meadow. Other than a few scattered lanterns, the only light came from the central fire. He watched as the Sleestiks ate their meal, but no one lingered around the fire afterwards. No doubt they were planning an early start after the delay caused by the damaged bridge.

As soon as most of them appeared settled, he signaled to Housen. The other male nodded and raised his specially modified rifle. A soft pop, barely loud enough to be heard, and a small globe flew into the clearing, landing next to the fire where it dissolved into a puff of smoke, indistinguishable from the smoke of the fire. More globes followed, landing in select spots throughout the camp and spreading a thin layer of smoke that gradually began to rise throughout the camp. If any of the Sleestiks were awake, it would look like a natural evening mist. The male was a genius.

Two of the Sleestik males had been posted on the trail side of the meadow as lookouts. They started their watch on either side of the camp, but once the leader disappeared into his tent, they joined each other and began a game of dice. He watched as the mist crept over them and their heads began to droop. Neither of them reacted with alarm, and a few moments later, they too were slumped against the ground. Perfect.

“Now?” Gazar was almost quivering with eagerness as he reached for a breathing mask.

“Yes. Don’t go near the tents. They may not have been as exposed to the gas, and we don’t want to take a chance on waking anyone. Just raid the sleds, and remember we’re looking for small, valuable items.”

His males nodded, donned their masks, and slipped away.

“I shall keep watch,” Worvak said.

“Signal if it appears that anyone is beginning to stir,” he agreed, ignoring the disapproving note in Worvak’s voice as he headed down the slope.

Despite his warning to his men, he intended to check the tents himself, especially that of the leader. He quietly untied the back flap of the largest tent and peeked inside. The male snored loudly, his body limp on a pile of expensive silk rugs. Boxtar gave them a thoughtful look. Although they would fetch a good price, they would be bulky and difficult to carry.

The other side of the tent was far more promising, stacked with baskets and crates, and he slipped inside to investigate. Searching through the hoard, he discovered several boxes of valuable spices, a collection of antique coins, and an assortment of jewels. A sack contained a number of scrolls—valuable, but difficult to dispose of—and he dumped them out, replacing the contents with the other items he’d selected. Once the bag was full, he carried it back to his waiting mori, noting that several bundles had already been loaded onto the other animals, then paused to check with Worvak.

“Any sign of life?”

“Not from the most of them, but that one by the fire has moved his legs a few times.”

“Keep watching,” he ordered. “If he starts to sit up, send the signal to return.”

As he made his way through the shadowy darkness to the rear of the second tent, his foot collided with something soft. His first assumption was that he had encountered one of the sleeping Sleestiks, and he immediately bent down to muffle the male in case he roused. Instead of the hard, scaly skin he expected, his hand landed on a warm, soft mound with a central peak that stiffened against his palm. It took far longer than it should have done before he realized he was cupping a female breast.

Another female?

He bent even closer, gently turning her from her side to her back. Lush curves strained at the odd outfit she was wearing, and the cloud of dark hair that had covered her face fell away to reveal pale, pale skin and a full, tempting mouth. His mind jumped back to the redheaded figure he’d seen falling into the river. Were they the same species? He saw little resemblance between them except for their unarmored skin, but they had both been traveling with the Sleestiks. What were they doing here?

As his gaze traveled down her body, trying not to linger on her generous breasts, he finally noticed that her hands were tied in front of her. Sleestik bastards. If they had restrained her, she was not traveling with them voluntarily. And the only reason the trading caravan would be carrying a female captive would be because they intended to sell her at the market. The thought of this strange, soft female being offered to the type of scum who would purchase an unwilling female appalled him. He could not permit it.

He cut the ties binding her wrists and lifted her into his arms, almost groaning at the impact of all that warm, soft flesh pressed against him. How long had it been since he’d been with a female? He’d indulged several times once he’d escaped, but soon realized that there was little meaning in a mere physical encounter—and he could never trust a female enough to reveal his background. Over the years, he’d gradually suppressed that part of him, but now his long-neglected cock throbbed with a demanding ache. Doing his best to ignore it, he made his way swiftly back to the waiting mori.

Now what? He didn’t want to sling her across his animal’s back like another bundle of stolen goods, but neither did he want to leave her alone on the ground. He was still arguing with himself when he heard Worvak give the signal.

Fek. Their time was up.

Worvak appeared a moment later, his eyes going to Boxtar’s burden.

“You took a female?” His voice was absolutely neutral.

“She was their prisoner—and you know what that means. I couldn’t leave her there.”

“So you intend to take her with us?”

“I hardly think she can survive on her own.”

Worvak shook his head but didn’t raise any other objections. “Mount and I will hand her to you.”

He hesitated, unusually reluctant to pass the female to Worvak, even for a moment, but it was a sensible suggestion. He reluctantly passed her to the big warrior and mounted his mori.

“Now hand her to me,” he demanded.

“Stealing a female is going to cause problems,” Worvak warned.

“I’m not stealing her—I’m rescuing her. Now give her to me.”

Worvak raised the female, and Boxtar snatched her back into his arms, relieved when her soft curves nestled against him once more. Concerned about her exposure to the cool night air, he removed his cloak and draped it over her.

“My grandfather said that every good mating begins with a kidnapping.”

Worvak’s deep voice interrupted his thoughts, and he looked up to find the other male giving him a thoughtful look.

“I am not kidnapping her.”

Worvak only raised an eyebrow, then went to supervise as the others returned. Of course Gazar was the last to return, carrying an enormous roll of the silk carpets Boxtar had rejected. Somehow, he managed to fasten them to his mori, the others swung up, and they set off into the night.

CHAPTER TWO

Pandora woke to a gentle rocking motion, her head pounding and her stomach none too happy. She lifted a hand to her throbbing head, then paused. Her hands had been tied—why were they free now?

Her eyelids felt almost too heavy to move, but she forced them open. It was still dark, tree branches flickering by overhead and creating shadows against the night sky. Where am I?

The trees reminded her of the ones surrounding the remote cabin where she had gone with her friends Quinn and Olivia to celebrate her birthday—before an alien had appeared and taken them. Just the thought of being kidnapped by an alien seemed ridiculous. Had it all been a dream?

This doesn’t feel like a dream, she thought, as she tried to push herself into a sitting position. The night air was cool on her face, and the fragrance of the trees mingled with a delicious spicy scent. An arm tightened around her waist, and she discovered she was riding a strange alien animal with long tufted ears and a striped coat. Or more specifically, she was being carried by the alien riding the animal.

Definitely not a dream.

The stranger’s arms were wrapped around her like iron bands—not painful, but absolutely inescapable—and she sternly suppressed her first instinct to struggle knowing that it would be a waste of energy. How did I end up with him?

The original alien who had taken them from the cabin had crashed on this planet, and they had awoken from stasis to find themselves the property of a group of small reptilian traders. But now she was riding through the darkness with a stranger and the traders were nowhere in sight. Had they sold her while she was sleeping?

She peeked up at the male carrying her, only to find he was looking down at her. So far, she had seen three kinds of aliens—the tall grey one who had originally taken them, the traders, and the caravan’s big orc-like guard. The one holding her was unlike any of them. His skin had a subtle leathery texture and a faint golden shimmer apparent even in the darkness. Long golden strands framed a strong face with high, wide cheekbones, a blade like nose, and a firm mouth. His features were undeniably alien, but also undeniably attractive, she realized, as his slit-pupiled eyes began to glow with a golden hue.

The thought startled her—she rarely paid much attention to physical appearance, let alone the broad shoulders and firm muscular chest she was resting against.

He asked her something in a deep voice she could feel vibrating in his chest, but the words meant nothing to her.

“I’m sorry. I don’t understand you.”

She did her best to keep her voice calm.

He frowned and cupped the side of her head with one big hand, gently tapping her ear.

“I can hear you. I just don’t understand your language.”

He frowned again and said something over his shoulder. For the first time, she realized they weren’t alone. She tried to look back, and he obligingly helped her up so that she was no longer cradled in his arms, but sitting up on his lap.

Peeking behind him, she could see more of the strange animals and their riders, although the details were difficult to make out in the darkness beneath the trees. The person directly behind him loomed imposingly, although she only saw enough to have an impression of size. Who were these people, and why was she with them?

She looked farther down the line—four more riders. The fact that they were moving so silently through the night worried her, and she suddenly wondered if she’d been stolen rather than sold. Had they raided the caravan? She strained her eyes, trying to see if any of them were carrying a second rider. They all appeared to be alone, which meant that they hadn’t taken Quinn.

Her throat threatened to close. Not only did that mean that she was alone, but it meant that Quinn was also on her own. Who would take care of her pretty, delicate friend?

Her first instinct was to try and persuade her captor to return her, but as she readjusted her position, she suddenly realized that the ridge beneath her butt was a very large and very erect penis. Her heart started to thud against her ribs. The traders had shown little interest in them as females, only as objects to be sold. But the male who was holding her was definitely interested in the fact that she was female. Even if he intended to sell her, what would he—or they—do to her first?

Maybe it’s a good thing that Quinn isn’t here, she tried to tell herself, but it didn’t ease her worry about her friend—or her guilt. It was her fault that they had ended up on this alien planet. She was the one who had planned to celebrate her birthday weekend in a remote mountain cabin. She loved the cold and snow and the idea of sitting by the fire as they laughed and talked and reminisced.

The three of them had met on the first day of college. She had been feeling lost and out of place, trying not to panic while signing up for courses. She’d been twenty-one when she started college because she’d spent the three years after high school caring for the grandmother who had raised her. Her fellow freshmen all seemed so young. And then a girl with fiery red curls bumped into her, scowling as if it were Pandora’s fault, even though all she’d been doing was standing there. She automatically apologized anyway, and the other girl went from frowning to shaking her head.

“Why are you sorry? I was the one who bumped into you.”

“I’m sorry,” she said again, and the girl laughed.

“I can tell I have some work to do. I’m Olivia.”

“I’m Pandora.”

“Pandora?” Olivia wrinkled her nose. “Too long. I’m going to call you Panda instead.”

It was the first time she’d ever had a nickname, and she found herself smiling back. Somehow, she managed to get both of them registered, even though Olivia was constantly distracted by everything going on around them—a cute guy, a flyer for a party, a frisbee game. But Pandora persevered and they were on their way back to Pandora’s room—since she had already unpacked and arranged everything—when she noticed a big, athletic-looking guy looming over a small blonde girl who didn’t even look old enough to be in college. The girl looked terrified.

“Look at those two,” she said quietly to Olivia. “Do you think we should do something?”

Olivia didn’t hesitate, charging off to thrust herself between the girl and the athlete.

“Leave her alone,” she growled.

The guy gave a derisive laugh. “Who’s going to make me? You?”

“No, I am,” Pandora said, holding up her cell phone. “I have security on speed dial. Do you know what the penalty is for harassment?” she added.

“Don’t know and don’t care.” Despite the dismissive words, he started to look nervous.

“According to chapter four, paragraph five of the student code, you are subject to an automatic suspension and possible expulsion.”

The guy took a step back.

“I don’t want any trouble. I didn’t even touch her. Did I, Quinn?”

All three of them turned to look at the blonde. Pandora didn’t expect her to answer, but the girl straightened her thin shoulders and looked him dead in the eye.

“Yes, you did. And when I told you to stop, you told me you’d make me like it.”

Pandora raised her phone again, and the guy looked from her to Olivia standing with a protective arm around Quinn’s shoulders. He muttered a curse, but he turned around and walked off, and Pandora breathed a sigh of relief.

“We’re going back to my room for hot chocolate,” she said. “Would you like to come, Quinn?”

Quinn nodded and smiled, the expression changing her face from merely pretty to beautiful. “I’d like that very much.”

The three of them had been friends ever since, even after they finished college. She had become the librarian she’d always planned to be while Quinn worked in graphic design and pursued her art. Unfortunately, Olivia had yet to find anything that held her interest for more than a few months. But despite their different paths, the bond between them had remained strong. Pandora suspected it was because all three of them were alone in the world. Her grandmother had died, Olivia had been abandoned by a mother who had no interest in her daughter, and Quinn had been in foster care her entire life. The three of them were more than friends, they were sisters, and it was because of her that the three of them had been in the cabin when the alien appeared.

Whatever he’d planned for them had been terminated when the ship crashed on this planet and the traders found them in the desert. She suspected it could have been much worse. Although the traders obviously didn’t mean them well, neither had they caused them any harm. They hadn’t even restrained them until this morning when Olivia darted out onto a damaged bridge, urging them to follow her in an attempt to escape.

Instead, Olivia had fallen into the raging torrent, and Baldric, the huge orc-like guard, dove in after her. The last thing Pandora saw before they were swept out of sight was Olivia clinging to Baldric. Although he’d never laid a hand on Olivia, it had been quite clear that he liked her—and that Olivia had been equally attracted. If anyone could keep her friend safe in the wilderness, it would be Baldric.

Zargan, leader of the traders, had been nearly incandescent with rage about losing one of the women and his guard. He’d bound Quinn and Pandora’s hands before resuming their journey, and when they made camp for the night he’d tied their ankles as well.

Quinn had cried herself to sleep, refusing to believe Pandora’s argument that Baldric would take care of Olivia. In Quinn’s experience, the people you loved were always taken away from you.

Pandora lay awake long after Quinn fell asleep, trying to decide what to do. There hadn’t been much chance of escape in the desert, but now that they had reached the forest, she thought their chances were much better. She’d read enough books about survival that she had at least a basic knowledge of what to do in a wooded environment. If they could get free, they could head downstream in the direction which Olivia had gone. She fully believed that Olivia would be trying to return to them as well.

But she wasn’t going to try and escape without preparations. If they could gather some basic supplies, survival would be a lot easier. She plucked up her courage and decided to reconnoiter. Zargan had tied their hands in front of their bodies, and after some painful maneuvering and a lot of huffing, she managed to reach her ankles and untie those ropes. She didn’t have the skills to untie her wrists, but it was a start.

The camp was quiet, with none of the activity she’d heard earlier that evening, and it seemed like the perfect time to investigate. The back flap of the tent opened easily enough, and she crept out into the night. The caravan had made camp in a large clearing to one side of the trail. Trees surrounded the space, the thickness of the forest both intimidating and encouraging. It might be difficult to make their way through it, but it would be equally difficult for the traders to track them. She was sure this wasn’t their native environment. Their wide feet, hooded eyes, and rough scales were designed for the desert.

A mist had risen since she’d left the tent, creeping across the ground and gradually rising up into the air. As it rose over her knees, she caught a hint of a faint sweetness that seemed out of place. She looked around for any sign of flowering plants, then took another sniff, trying to identify the source. That was her mistake. That deep breath had made her dizzy, and she had stumbled, falling to the ground and deeper into the mist. The last thing she remembered was telling herself to get up.

Not a mist at all, she decided now—it must have been some kind of gas. The raiders had used it to put everyone in the camp to sleep so they could take whatever they wanted. She tried to tell herself that the fact that they had chosen a nonviolent approach was a good sign, but it didn’t make her feel any more comfortable about riding off into the night with a group of strange males.

At least the one whose erection was so clearly evident beneath her but didn’t seem inclined to do anything about it at the moment. Maybe he’s just waiting until we stop, a little voice whispered. After all, it wasn’t as if they could have sex while riding. She shivered, and the male holding her tucked the cloak covering her more firmly around her body.

No. She refused to give in to fear. She would think of a plan. She started turning over possibilities in her mind, but the warmth of the cloak combined with the heat of the big body behind her, the rocking motion of the animal, and the lingering effects of the sleeping gas were too much for her. She fell asleep again.

CHAPTER THREE

Despite his aching cock, Boxtar felt a strange sense of satisfaction as the female fell asleep in his arms. Having her soft body resting so trustingly against him reminded him of the honorable male he had been so long ago. But then again, that male would never have been riding through the woods with a load of stolen goods, no matter how necessary the theft.

He sighed and checked their position. They should be far enough away from the camp that it would be safe to move down to the trail. The wide flat surface would enable them to make better time. He led the way down the slope and soon as they reached the trail, Worvak rode up next to him.

“She does not have a translator?” his second asked.

He shook his head. “She couldn’t understand anything I said.”

“Could you understand her?”

“A few words, but then again, she didn’t say much.”

Her reaction had surprised him. He’d been prepared for tears, even panic, but although he could tell she was afraid, she kept her composure and her voice had remained calm.

“Do you understand what that means?”

He gave a reluctant nod. “That she is most likely from a pre-spaceflight planet.”

“But not one entirely unknown to the Empire,” Worvak finished grimly. “Those damn slavers have no limits when it comes to stealing females, in spite of the new Emperor’s efforts.”

“I have no more faith in the new Emperor than I did in the old, and we both know what a tyrant he was.”

“If my assumption is correct, then the most logical solution is to hand her over to the Royal Fleet once we arrive in Almadin.” Despite the suggestion, Worvak’s voice did not indicate any great deal of enthusiasm for the plan.

“No,” he said immediately. “I don’t trust those bastards any further than I can throw them.”

Gazar rode up to join them, peering over at the sleeping female.

“Whatcha got there, boss?”

“A female,” he said shortly, his tone forbidding.

Of course Gazar ignored his tone.

“You took a Sleestik female? Why would you want one of—”

Gazar paused as the cloak slipped down to reveal the female’s sleeping face. “Holy fuck. That’s not a Sleestik.”

“As always, your powers of observation never fail to amaze me,” Housen said as he too joined them. He also studied the female, but with the disinterested gaze of the scientist. “I don’t recognize the species.”

“We were just discussing that,” Worvak said. “We suspect that she may be from a pre-spaceflight world, as was the female who fell into the Nahra.”

“A female fell into the river? And you did nothing to save her?” A frown crossed Kahil’s young face as he also joined the group. The big Elginar was still young enough to be idealistic.

“A Daichin went in after her,” Worvak said regretfully. “He would have been a worthy opponent.”

Kahil nodded approvingly, Housen looked thoughtful, and Gazar shrugged. “She’s no use to us now, especially if the Daichin has her. But this one…”

Boxtar instinctively tightened his arms around his female.

“What about this female?” he asked, his voice deadly.

“Are you going to sell her?” Gazar raised his hands when all of them looked at him. “I’m not saying you should, but it’s not as if you’re going to take her to Sekala, and I don’t know what else you’re going to do with her.”

“She should be handed over to the Royal Fleet,” Kahil said firmly, but no one else nodded. They had all had run-ins with the Imperial government.

“Might as well sell her to an actual whorehouse,” Gazar muttered. “At least then she’d get paid. None of those Fleet bastards would bother.”

“She is not going into a brothel,” he growled, and this time even Gazar got the message.

“I’ll go along with whatever you say, boss, but what are you going to do with her? Sekala is no place for a lone female.” When Worvak opened his mouth, Gazar cut him off. “And I don’t care if Lady Jay is female. She can handle herself.”

“This entire discussion will be pointless if the Sleestiks catch up with us,” he said firmly. “We need to be as far down the trail as possible before they discover what happened. How long will they sleep, Housen?”

“It’s difficult to know due to the varying body sizes and the different degrees of exposure. Some of them may simply slip into a natural sleep and never realize they were exposed to the gas. If we are lucky, they won’t even discover the robbery until they break camp in the morning.”

His tone did not suggest any belief in that luck, and Boxtar tended to agree with him. Luck was never on his side.

“Then we keep moving for as long as we can before the mori need to rest.”

His males nodded and they set off. Although he was concerned about waking his female, Boxtar encouraged his mori to move at a faster pace. The female stirred restlessly as the animal’s stride lengthened, but he kept her tucked securely against him and she subsided.

The sun rose as they traveled, sparkling on the turbulent waters of the Nahra. He estimated they would reach the point where they turned away from it by the next morning.

Around midmorning, his female finally opened her eyes. He’d suspected for some time that she was on the verge of waking because she started to become more restless—a restlessness which caused the lush curves of her ass to rub against him and did nothing to ease his throbbing cock—but it wasn’t until she suddenly tensed that he looked down and saw that she was awake.

Blue eyes, as pure and clear as the oceans of his home planet, looked back at him. Her skin was as pale and smooth as the pearls that lay hidden within those oceans, her plump lips the deep red of the deadly coral that protected those hidden treasures.

She studied him in return, and he braced himself for her reaction. He had never been handsome and ten years of hard living, first in the underground prison and then on the run, had done nothing to improve his looks. Their features were not entirely dissimilar—they both had two eyes, a nose, and a mouth—but everything about his appearance identified him as a predator, from the pointed teeth designed to tear to the slitted pupils for tracking his prey.

He could almost see the effort it took for her to keep her face composed, but only the slightest quiver of that tempting mouth revealed her anxiety. Her mouth opened and closed twice before she finally decided on what she wanted to say.

“Who are you?” Her voice too was remarkably calm, low and melodious.

“Boxtar.” He suddenly wished he had met her in his younger days when he could introduce himself using his full proper title and family honors, but those days were no more. “And you?”

“I’m Pandora.”

“Pandora.” Her name sang through his veins, and he smiled.

Perhaps the sight reassured her, because she took a deep breath, her breasts straining deliciously against her strange red garments, and gave him a tentative smile in return.

“Are you going to sell me?” she asked, her voice still calm. “Or… hurt me?”

Never. He shook his head and some of the tension left her body, but then she frowned.

“Can you understand me?”

He hesitated. He couldn’t understand every word, but he understood enough to catch the meaning of what she said.

“If you do,” she rushed on before he could decide how to answer, “and if you really aren’t going to sell me, can you help me?” She took another breath. “I know you, err, raided the caravan, and I don’t care about that. But I need to find whatever law enforcement exists on this planet.”

“Law enforcement?” he asked slowly, and she nodded.

“Yes. Police or military or someone in authority who can help me. You don’t have to go with me,” she added quickly. “Just point me in the right direction.”

“Law enforcement?” He kept his face deliberately blank as he repeated the words again, and her shoulders sagged.

“I suppose that was too much to hope for.” She took a deep breath and tried again. “Me and you.” She tapped her chest and then his, and despite his leather tunic, he could have sworn he felt that gentle touch directly against his skin. She pointed ahead of them down the trail and gave him a questioning look. “Go where?”

“Almadin.”

Her face lit up. “Almadin, yes. That’s what the traders were taking us. I’m sure that’s where Olivia will go, and Quinn.…”

She came to a halt again and bit her lip. Who were these people? Assuming that one of them was the female that had fallen into the river, did that mean another person had been taken by the traders? Perhaps even a male person? He didn’t like that idea one little bit, although he was sure that the rest of his males would see it as an answer to the problem of what to do with her.

“Olivia?” he asked, and she nodded again.

“Yes, my friend. She fell in the river, but I’m sure she’ll try to get to Almadin as well.” The look on his face must have betrayed him, because she frowned. “Is there any reason why she wouldn’t be able to get there?”

He tried to figure out the best way to explain to her that depending on where her friend and the Daichin had emerged from the river, it could take weeks for them to reach the city. Still keeping her in his arms, he bent forward over the horse, letting her feel the gait. The position pressed the soft curves of her hips against his erection and her breasts against his chest. To his astonishment, he felt her nipples harden, pressing into his chest like heated pebbles. Her breath caught, and he wanted to pull her even closer, but he forced himself to sit up.

“Fast,” he said, mimicking the gait of the mori again. Then he rocked her slowly back and forth. “Slow.”

Her cheeks had flushed a delightful shade of pink, but she nodded. “I get that. Fast and slow. Do you mean that we are moving fast?”

He nodded. “Boxtar and Pandora fast. Olivia slow.”

Her lips trembled again, and he wanted to press a soothing kiss to those lips, but then she pressed them together, a determined look on her face. “Then I’ll have time to find out what to do before they—she arrives.”

He suspected she was talking to herself rather than him, and he kept his face blank.

“Quinn?” he asked, remembering the other name.

She tensed again but kept her face calm.

“Never mind,” she said quickly, then reached down to pet the mori’s coat. “What do you call this animal?”

The fact that she changed the subject so quickly made him even more suspicious about the third person. Was it a male? An unworthy male who lost his female? My female now, he thought, then remembered that his own circumstances rendered him less than worthy as well. That would not stop him from protecting her, he vowed, for as long as she was in his care.

She was giving him a puzzled look, and he forced himself to return to her question.

“It is called a mori.”

“Mori,” she repeated, and smiled.

Somehow, he wasn’t surprised when she continued asking him the names of things. Clever girl. She was clearly intelligent enough to realize that she needed to speak the language. He anticipated some difficult conversations ahead, but he liked the idea of teaching her and responded willingly enough. The speed with which she learned impressed him. Although he could see her occasional frustration, she did not give up, her lips moving as she repeated the words to herself. He had the sudden image of her neatly assembling everything in her brain.

By the time the sun began to descend, even her determination had faded. She was drooping against him, and he could see the exhaustion on her face. The fast ride had taken its toll on him as well, and although none of his males had complained, he knew that they were also tired. He looked over his shoulder.

“Worvak, can you find us a campsite?”

Worvak nodded and rode on ahead, looking completely untouched by the rigors of the journey. Pandora watched him go, her eyes wide.

“I wouldn’t like to meet him in a dark alley,” she murmured to herself.

The words didn’t entirely translate, but he understood enough to know that she was not attracted to the big warrior. He tightened his arms around her for the briefest second, and they headed up the trail after his second.

CHAPTER FOUR

Exhaustion gradually crept over Pandora, even though she’d slept better in Boxtar’s arms than any other time since she arrived on this planet. Or long before it, for that matter. She always had trouble sleeping, but one of the advantages of living alone was that when her busy brain kicked into gear, she could switch on the light and read until it calmed again. Since they’d been taken, there had been nothing to distract her when she woke. And yet there had been something soothing about being in his arms.

Nonsense, she told herself. It was probably just the motion of the riding animal—the mori.

The scary warrior who had ridden ahead reappeared further up the trail, signaling to them. Her heart started to thud against her ribs again as he directed them to turn off the main trail. They rode a short distance into the woods before emerging in a small clearing, little more than a wide spot next to a stream. A small fire was already burning next to the water. They were obviously about to make camp.

Her hands started to shake. Boxtar had been very patient with her language lessons and seemed nice enough, but every time her hips brushed against his, she’d felt the rigid bar of his erection. What if he’d just been waiting until they stopped?

He swung down to the ground, leaving her in the saddle, and she had a wild impulse to grab the reins and take off down the trail. She knew Olivia wouldn’t have hesitated, but before she could act, he reached up for her. Two of the other males were still mounted, and she suspected they would have no difficulty catching up with her.

With a sigh, she bent towards him, and he lifted her free as if she weighed no more than a feather. Since she weighed considerably more, the demonstration of his strength only made her pulse increase. As her feet hit the ground, her knees threatened to give out, and she wasn’t sure if it was from fear or the long ride. He muttered something under his breath and caught her, holding her against his body until she regained her balance. And yes, he was still erect.

As soon as she thought she could stand, she took a step back. He held onto her arm for another moment, checking to make sure she had her balance, then let her go. He gestured towards the fire, but the big male in the studded armor was still crouched next to it and she shook her head. She didn’t want to get anywhere near him. He tilted his head thoughtfully, then reached into one of the saddlebags and pulled out a collapsible metal bowl similar to the type the traders used. He handed it to her and pointed to the stream, and this time she nodded.

She crossed to it and scooped out a bowl full of water and started to raise it to her lips, then hesitated, thoughts of bacteria and salmonella dancing through her head. Then she gave a mental shrug. The water they had drunk in the desert had been far less appealing than the clear water of the stream. She took a cautious sip. The cold liquid trickled down her throat and she suddenly realized how thirsty she was. She took several more drinks before her common sense reasserted itself and she slowed down.

The other males were setting up camp. A large blue male with long white hair removed the packs from the mori’s backs, then led the animals to the stream below her as she watched curiously. They were similar in size to horses, perhaps slightly larger, but they had clawed, padded feet instead of hooves and their coats were striped in an odd pale green.

Their handler shot a quick look in her direction and gave her a shy smile. Despite his size, he didn’t seem threatening. He reminded her of one of the football players she had tutored during college—a huge man with a reputation for violence on the field—but he’d always been polite and respectful to her, and the memory made her smile at the blue giant.

A harsh noise made her look up to find Boxtar standing over her, glowering. Why did he look so angry? He held out a peremptory hand for the bowl.

“You could say please,” she muttered as she bent over and refilled the bowl. When she frowned up at him, he suddenly laughed.

“Please,” he repeated in a remarkably accurate imitation of her words. He grinned, and she couldn’t help smiling back, doing her best to ignore the sharp, pointed teeth revealed by his smile. He carried the water over to where the scary alien had placed a pot over the flames and handed over the water. A rich, meaty smell drifted across the clearing, and her stomach rumbled. The traders hadn’t bothered to feed them last night, and she was suddenly starving.

She made her way over to the fire, looking around surreptitiously as she did. A tall, thin male with a feathered crest instead of hair was methodically going through the packs while a fifth male stood behind him making notes in a small notebook. She wanted to see what he was writing, but Boxtar was giving her an expectant look, and she went to his side instead.

Five males—all big, all scary in their own way. The two examining the packs were lean rather than bulky, but the one with the feathers had long claws on his hands and feet and a wicked-looking beak. The notetaker looked more innocuous, but he was still at least a head taller than her, and she couldn’t make the mistake of thinking he was harmless. The most positive aspect of the situation was that no one other than Boxtar was paying much attention to her. The blue alien was still tending to the horses, and even the frightening warrior was focused on his pot of food rather than her. And so far, no one had attempted to tie her up again.

She sighed and sat down at Boxtar’s side. He dipped a metal mug into the pot and handed it to her. She took it eagerly, but unfortunately, the appetizing smell was deceiving. Instead of the meaty soup she had expected, she found herself sipping an almost tasteless, watery broth that somehow still managed to leave an unpleasant burn in the back of her throat. She forced herself to drink half of it before handing the mug back to Boxtar with a polite smile. He looked at the half-full mug and tried to hand it back to her, but she shook her head firmly.

“No, thank you. I could cook better than that when I was ten years old.”

A harsh grunt came from the other side of the fire, and she looked over to find the scary alien studying her. Had he understood that she was criticizing his cooking?

Determined not to show her fear, she stared back at him, really looking at him for the first time. His skin was a dark bronze, almost the same color as the metal-studded leather armor that covered most of his body. He didn’t have any hair, just ridges that started above his brows and curved up over his forehead and down the back of his head. Like Boxtar, he had slit pupils, but his eyes were an ominous green. Even with his mouth closed, the fangs bracketing it were clearly obvious.

He finally looked away, muttering something to Boxtar. Boxtar laughed, but he didn’t seem offended, sipping thoughtfully at his own mug. She relaxed a little more. The other males joined them, taking their own share from the contents of the pot. Judging from their expressions and the comments flying back and forth, she didn’t think they were any more impressed with the contents than she had been.

Now that she had eaten, another bodily need made itself known. She sighed as she looked over at the woods. What she wouldn’t give for a real bathroom—or even an outhouse. At least there are leaves here, unlike the desert, she thought, grimacing at the memory.

When she rose to her feet, the joking suddenly stopped and all of the males looked up at her. Boxtar stood at once and gave her a questioning look. She knew her cheeks were turning red as she pointed towards the trees. She took a few steps in that direction, but he followed her and she stopped. The last thing she needed was a witness. But how was she going to explain to him?

“I’m not trying to run away,” she said quickly. “I just have to… to go to the bathroom? Umm, use the facilities?” He still looked confused, and she finally bobbed down in an abbreviated squat. “I have to pee, dammit.”

He nodded as if he understood, but when she took another step towards the edge of the clearing, he continued to follow her.

“I don’t need company.”

He looked from her to the woods, and she followed his gaze. It wasn’t quite dark yet, but the shadows were thick beneath the trees. He gestured at the trees.

“Quatal.”

When she frowned at him, he pointed at the woods again and growled, a deep throbbing noise that made the hair on her arms stand on edge.

Crap. If she understood him correctly, he was trying to tell her that there were dangerous animals in the woods.

“I won’t go far,” she promised. “But I’m still going by myself.”

He thought for a moment, then took her hand and escorted her to the edge of the woods, ignoring her attempts to free herself. Once they reached the trees, he let her go and pointed behind the closest bush. Then he turned his back on her and crossed his arms. Apparently, he was going to remain on guard, but at least he was giving her a smidgen of privacy. And if there were something dangerous lurking in the woods, she couldn’t deny that having him close by might be handy.

With another sigh, she ducked out of sight and did her business, praying that her face wasn’t as red as she suspected when she returned to him. To her relief, he didn’t comment or even give her a curious look. And he made no attempt to stop her when she went to the stream and washed her hands in the icy water.

The feathery one had brought the bag that had been tied on the saddle in front of her over to the fire. They all gathered around Boxtar as he started pulling out the contents. With a mental shrug, she joined them. She was actually curious herself as to what it contained. The first things to emerge were three small wooden boxes. They didn’t seem very exciting, but the males all nodded approvingly.

“What are those?” she asked, before she could stop herself.

Boxtar didn’t seem bothered by her interest. He carefully raised the lid on the first box to reveal what looked like brown dust.

“Eszer,” he said, dipping his finger in the powder and raising it to his lips.

Some kind of spice? That made sense. She knew it had been a valuable commodity on Earth for many years before standardized currency. When she gave him an inquiring look, he nodded and she tasted it for herself. Interesting. It reminded her of cinnamon, but with a hint of gingery heat. The next box contained small seeds, and he crushed one between his fingers so she could detect the mustard-like fragrance. The third box contained what was clearly salt, and she nodded.

Next to emerge was a small leather trunk with metal fastenings. The trunk contained a variety of coins in different shapes and types of metal. This time, the approval from the other males was even louder. She picked up a few curiously, noting that the writing on each of them was different but all of them looked well used.

“Antique coins,” she said thoughtfully. “I wonder if they’re more valuable as collector items or because of the worth of the metal.”

She didn’t realize she had spoken aloud until she looked up and found five sets of eyes focused on her face. She was sure she was blushing again, but she did her best to keep her voice calm.

“I had a small collection of antique coins when I was young. My grandfather left them to me.” He’d spent many hours telling her the stories behind them, and they had been a great comfort to her after he died and left her and her grandmother alone.

Boxtar looked thoughtful, then reached over and plucked an eight-sided coin with a matching eight-sided hole in the middle from the pile and handed it to her.

“You don’t have to do that.”

Ignoring her protest, he turned back to the bag. None of the others seem troubled by his gesture and she clutched the coin in her hand, unexpected tears threatening. It was such a small thing, but it felt like a tie to her past and that comforted her. She tucked it into the pocket of her pajamas, but kept it between her fingers, rubbing the smooth metal.

I wonder what Grandpa have thought of all this. He’d always loved science fiction books and had a huge number of them in his library—he was also the one who had encouraged her love of books and reading—but she doubted he’d ever thought his granddaughter would end up on an alien planet.

Still deep in her thoughts, she didn’t pay much attention as Boxtar retrieved several boxes of jewelry from the bag. But then he removed the final item—a rectangular velvet bag—and opened it to reveal a long paper tube with wooden handles at each end. A scroll.

She leaned forward as he unrolled it a few inches, far enough for her to see the beautiful illustrations along both sides of the page and the exquisite handwriting. The males seemed to be having a debate about the scroll, and he finally sighed and nodded. She watched in horror as he prepared to toss it into the fire.

“No! You can’t do that. If you don’t want it, give it to me.”

She tried to grab it, falling across his lap as she reached for it, and she heard a burst of laughter, but she didn’t care.

“You can’t destroy it. Written words are too precious.”

The tears she had suppressed before were suddenly streaming down her face, and after the slightest hesitation, he pulled his hand back. He lifted her up until she was sitting in his lap and then handed the scroll to her. She clutched it against her chest with a sigh of relief.

“Thank you. Thank you.”

He smiled down at her, his face softer than she had seen it before, and gestured at the scroll, obviously suggesting that she take another look. She obeyed readily. The quick glimpse had not misled her—it was a beautiful document. The illustrations along the edges had been drawn with exquisite care and appeared to have been hand colored. The text was equally exquisite, as neat and precise as if it had been made by a machine. She traced her finger across the words, longing to be able to read them. God, she missed her library so much.

“I wish I could read this.”

A big hand reached around her waist. Boxtar tapped at one of the images on the margins—a moon—and then on one of the symbols on the page.

“Zeng.”

“Zeng,” she repeated carefully and felt him nod. Then she pointed at the sliver of moon rising over the clearing. “Zeng?”

He nodded again, and triumph roared through her as she studied the symbol again, committing it to memory. It was only one word, but it was a beginning.

“What about this word? And this one?” she asked eagerly.

He repeated the process, this time pointing from a symbol to a snowy scene. Winter, she thought. Telel in his language. They huddled together over the scroll as he did his best to teach her, matching the words and images as best he could. There were a number of gaps, of course, but because the illustrations were so clear, she managed to understand and eventually read most of the first panel.

The story began with a young girl who would go out on winter evenings and talk to the moon. The moon would listen, even though he couldn’t respond. It was a love story.

She started to unroll more of the scroll, eager to continue her lesson, but Boxtar put his hand over hers and shook his head. He re-rolled the scroll and returned it to its velvet bag. When she frowned up at him, she finally noticed that the fire was dying down. The rest of his males were already sleeping next to it, wrapped in blankets, except for the warrior cook. He was standing at the end of the clearing, looking back down towards the trail, his head up and his posture alert.

He was on guard, she realized, and the reminder of her situation made her shiver. Even though they hadn’t threatened her, she was alone with a band of clearly dangerous ruffians. She also realized that she’d been perched on Boxtar’s lap during the entire reading lesson, and she quickly tried to scramble off of him.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sit on you for so long. I know I’m too heavy. Have your legs gone to sleep?”

His arms closed around her before she could escape, and she looked up to find him smiling at her. He placed a gentle finger across her mouth, stemming the flow of words. Despite the presence of the others, she suddenly felt as if they were enclosed in their own bubble of dying firelight, his finger rough and warm against her lips. When he drew it away, she licked her lips, seeking the taste of him.

She heard him groan, and then he was kissing her.

Of course she’d been kissed before, but she had never really enjoyed it. It had always seemed rather wet and sloppy. Jeremy, her occasional boyfriend, agreed with her assessment, and rarely did more than occasionally brush his lips against hers. But Boxtar’s kiss wasn’t wet. It wasn’t sloppy. It was firm and hot and demanding, and for the first time she truly understood why people enjoyed it.

She leaned into him, seeking more of that delicious pressure and his hands tightened around her waist, holding her against him. She didn’t think of objecting, but he suddenly tensed and lifted his head. His eyes gleamed gold in the last of the firelight, a striking reminder of precisely how inhuman he was, but it no longer seemed as important. She smiled at him and he smiled back, and she would have leaned in for another kiss, but instead he rose to his feet, lifting her easily along with him.

He handed her the bag with the scroll, then led her a little further away from the fire to where a blanket was waiting. It wasn’t until he started to tug her down onto the blanket with him that she suddenly panicked. No! Kisses were one thing, but she wasn’t ready to sleep with him. No matter how attractive he might be, and how much she appreciated the reading lesson, she wasn’t ready for anything more.

“No, thank you,” she said quickly. “I’ll just go and sleep by the fire.”

He pointed to the blanket again, then gently touched her face.

“No hurt.”

She recognized the words from the scroll, and bit her lip. There were a number of ways “hurt” could be interpreted.

“No…” She hesitated, then mimicked bodies coming together. To her relief, he laughed.

“No fek,” he agreed.

Before she could think of any further objections, he lifted her off her feet and carried her down to the blanket with him. He tucked her against his side, threw the rest of the blanket over them both, and proceeded to fall asleep. Still not entirely sure about the arrangement, she started to wiggle away from him. He immediately tugged her back against his body, and she gave up.

Hugging the scroll to her chest, she thought about her friends. Were Baldric and Olivia already on their way back up the river? Were the traders treating Quinn well? As much as it worried her not to know, she didn’t think there was anything she could do until they reached Almadin. Her troubled thoughts finally slowed, and she drifted off to sleep.

CHAPTER FIVE

Pandora was dreaming about her library, but instead of books, the shelves were filled with scrolls. The scrolls refused to remain in place according to her categorization, and she was in the middle of figuring out a solution when a waft of cold air startled her awake. Her eyes flew open, and she found herself alone on the blanket. Where was Boxtar?

She had woken up during the night, just as she usually did, but when she stirred, he simply murmured soothingly and pulled her closer. Something about the warmth of his body and that comforting spicy scent had allowed her to fall back asleep.

Now he was nowhere in sight, and even the remnants of the previous night’s fire had been raked into little more than a patch of dirt. She sat up in a flash of panic, thinking that she was on her own and unprepared, but then Boxtar appeared, walking towards her with a bowl of water.

“Good morning,” he said in his language, and she realized she understood the words.

She couldn’t help smiling up at him as she took the water. “Good morning.”

As soon as she drank—wishing very much that it had been hot chocolate instead of water—he urged her to her feet and led her to the edge of the woods. Embarrassed but grateful, she took advantage of the opportunity, then joined him again. No one else remained in the clearing except for the big blue alien, holding the reins of two mori. He gave her another shy smile before ducking his head. She returned the smile.

“Good morning. I’m Pandora. What’s your name?”

“Kahil,” he said in a deep, rumbling voice, then ducked his head again when Boxtar growled something at him.

She turned and frowned up at him.

“What’s wrong with you?”

He didn’t answer, just snatched one of the mori’s reins away from Kahil. Before she could protest, he lifted her up onto the saddle as easily as she would have placed a paperback on a shelf, and swung himself up behind her. His arm went firmly around her waist and pulled her back against him as he growled something else in her ear.

“I don’t know what that means,” she said, trying unsuccessfully to pry his arm away from her. “Why are you acting like this?”

She looked over at Kahil, but he only held up his hands in the apparently universal symbol of innocence and mounted his own animal. Boxtar growled again and started down through the woods and back to the trail. As soon as they reached it, he urged the mori into a brisk canter, Kahil falling into line behind them.

Boxtar’s body remained tense, and it wasn’t until they were some distance down the trail that it suddenly occurred to her that he might be jealous. It wasn’t something that she was used to encountering from a man. Jeremy had certainly never shown the least hint of concern, not even when she went away for the weekend to a library conference with her administrator, an extremely attractive older man.

In fact, all of the men she had dated had been far too rational to show any signs of jealousy. None of them would ever have dreamed of growling at another man because he smiled at her. How primitive, she told herself, but she couldn’t entirely suppress a spark of pleasure that he seemed to value her that much.

Value. The word echoed in her head and quickly erased any trace of pleasure. Was that what this was about—her value? He’d said he wasn’t going to sell her when she asked, but had he understood the question?

He’d certainly done everything he could to take care of her, but the lizardmen had also treated them relatively well. Was this just the same thing? Then again, she couldn’t imagine any of the traders taking the time and effort to help her learn to read, or to respect her desire to retain the scroll. And despite his obvious attraction to her, he hadn’t done anything other than kiss her.

So far, all he had said about the future was that they were going to Almadin. He hadn’t said anything about what they would do when they got there. What if he intended to keep her for himself? The idea was oddly appealing, she admitted to herself, but it would never work out. She had to find Quinn and Olivia, and if at all possible, she had to find a way to get them back to Earth

He hadn’t responded to her previous question about law enforcement but surely a city of any size would have some way of keeping the peace. If she could contact them, she could enlist their help in finding her friends, and maybe even in returning to Earth. Except…

She suddenly realized there might be a flaw in her logic. After all, the traders had clearly intended to sell them. If slavery was allowed, what if any authority she contacted considered them property?

She was still turning the question over in her head when they caught up with the others. They came to a halt as Boxtar and the scary warrior exchanged a few words over her head. Suddenly tired of being ignored, or treated as baggage, she turned to the male next to her.

“Hello. I’m Pandora. What’s your name?”

She felt Boxtar’s body tense again, and from the expression on the other male’s face he noticed as well, but he only gave her a cheerful grin and a creditable attempt at a courtly bow considering he was seated on horseback.

“Gazar,” he said, followed by something she couldn’t understand, but she thought she recognized the word service.

“It’s nice to meet you,” she said as calmly as possible, doing her best to ignore the almost inaudible grumble she could feel in Boxtar’s chest as she looked at the remaining two males. “And what are your names?”

“Housen,” the studious one said, giving her a thoughtful look.

The warrior reeled off a bunch of syllables she couldn’t keep straight, then sighed at her obvious confusion. “Worvak.”

“Nice to meet all of you,” she said again, then looked over her shoulder at Boxtar and raised her eyebrow. “Shouldn’t we get going?”

She heard Gazar laugh, and Worvak grunted what she assumed was also a laugh, but she was too busy staring up at Boxtar to care. He glared at her, his eyes blazing gold and those wickedly sharp teeth all too obvious. She returned his gaze defiantly, and he suddenly laughed, his fierceness disappearing.

He bent down and brushed his mouth against hers, then muttered something that she was almost positive meant just wait before straightening and saying something to the rest of his gang. She thought he said something along the lines of you heard the lady, and she hid a smile.

As they resumed their journey, she allowed herself to relax back against him. Whatever he had in mind for her didn’t seem quite as threatening.

They traveled throughout the day, pausing only twice to drink and eat some jerky similar to that the traders carried. She continued trying to learn as many words as she could, but the unchanging scenery provided only limited options. The scroll with its detailed pictures offered so many more possibilities.

As the afternoon shadows lengthened, the trail started to move away from the river, and once again Boxtar sent Worvak ahead to find a campsite. This one was also located next to water, this time a large, peaceful-looking pond, and she gave it a wistful look. Although she suspected it was just as cold as the stream, she wondered if it would be possible to take a dip. But then again, she didn’t really want to get her clothes wet, and she certainly wasn’t going to get naked in front of these males, no matter how restrained they had been so far.

Her legs wobbled again as Boxtar lifted her down off the mori, and this time she didn’t hesitate to lean against him until she adjusted to standing. She looked up at him, and he gently brushed the hair back from her face. Her breath caught at the golden gleam in his eyes, and she waited for him to bend his head and kiss her. Before he could, Gazar called him. He gave her a rueful smile, then went to join the other males in unloading the mori.

Kahil had started watering the animals, and she considered joining him, but she suspected that Boxtar would not be happy and she didn’t want to cause trouble with his males. Instead, she wandered over to where Housen was building a fire. He nodded at her, and she sat down next to him, surprised at the speed with which he got a blaze started and trying to study his process.

Once the fire was burning, he moved away and left her staring sleepily into the flames. How can I be so tired when I was sitting all day? She was half-asleep when Worvak appeared, carrying two bird-like carcasses. They had already been plucked and cleaned, and she watched with interest as he laid them on a large flat rock, then pulled out an enormous knife. As he raised it, she realized he was simply planning on chopping the birds into chunks.

“Not that way,” she protested.

He looked over at her and scowled, but she refused to let him intimidate her.

“That’s not how you cut up birds. They would cook better if you cut them into pieces.”

He scowled at her for a moment longer, then gave that hoarse grunt she thought was a laugh and offered her the knife. She looked at it for a moment, then shrugged and went to join him. As she suspected, the creatures had essentially the same structure as Earth birds, and she quickly separated them into pieces. There didn’t seem to be much option for cooking other than the big pot they had used the night before, but she could work with that. She placed it over the fire to begin heating, then looked up to find Boxtar watching her.

“Can I use some of those spices to cook with—the eszer and the others?”

He gave her a thoughtful look, then shrugged and went to fetch the spice boxes. She sprinkled some of the spices over the cut-up birds, then rubbed it into the skin before adding them to the hot pan. The skin sizzled and, as she’d hoped, began to render enough fat to prevent them from burning. When she looked up again, the entire gang was gathered around the fire, giving the pot a hungry look. She laughed.

“It’s not going to be ready for a while. You’re going to have to wait.”

All of them moved away except for Boxtar and Worvak. Boxtar was watching her, but Worvak seemed far more interested in how she was cooking the birds. He accompanied her when she went to get some water to add to the pot, then stopped to look thoughtfully at the plants growing along the edge of the pond.

“Do you know if any of these are edible?”

Worvak snorted, and Boxtar, who had followed them, laughed.

“Worvak only likes meat,” he said, shaking his head as he scanned the nearby plants.

After a quick search, he pulled a handful of long stalks with small bulbs at their ends and handed them to her. They had a faint oniony smell, and she nodded approvingly. While she washed them off, he moved further along the bank, returning with several long tubers. They were an odd pink color, without any discernible smell, but then most tubers didn’t have much scent before they were cooked. She washed them off as well, then returned to the fire. She chopped the vegetables and added them to the pot, letting them sauté for a few minutes before adding water. Once it began to simmer, she sat back and gave them both a satisfied smile.

“And now we wait until it’s done.”

Worvak gave a brief nod, then stood and headed for the pond stripping off his leather armor as he went. It wasn’t until he reached for his pants that she realized what he was doing and hastily looked away. Now that she was no longer focused on her cooking, she noticed the sound of laughter and splashing and realized that the rest of the men had gone swimming.

“Bath?” Boxtar asked, and she reluctantly shook her head.

“No, thank you. But you go ahead if you want to,” she suggested, half-hoping he would take her up on her offer. She had no desire to look at any of the other males, but she was suddenly extremely curious to see what he looked like naked.

Instead of responding, he rose to his feet. She peeped up at him through her lashes, waiting to see if he was going to remove his tunic, but he reached down and took her hand and pulled her to her feet.

“Bath,” he said firmly, not making it a question this time.

“But…”

Her protest died away when instead of heading for the other males, he led her along the edge of the pond. A shallow waterfall trickled into the far end, and they climbed the bank next to it to find another much smaller pool. It was fed by another fall, and she could see the glint of water further up the wooded slope.

The area next to the small pool was more enclosed than the meadow below, and while she could still hear the other males, bushes screened the area from the rest of the camp. She gave the water a longing look. It really was a beautiful spot with thick fern-like plants fringing the opposite bank and the late afternoon sunlight sparkling on the water. She bent down and ran her fingers through the water, delighted to find that it was much warmer than the stream the previous night.

“Maybe I will take a bath after all—” she began as she turned around, only to find a completely naked Boxtar.

At a total loss for words, all she could do was stare at him. The late afternoon sunlight turned his skin to shimmering gold, highlighting his broad shoulders and rippling muscles. Her gaze traveled down over his body until she reached his cock—his very erect and very alien cock. Long undulating ridges ran from the wide base to just beneath the thick, swirled head.

He stalked towards her, his eyes glowing gold, as she tried desperately to think of something, anything, to say. He stopped in front of her, so close that the tip of his cock brushed against her stomach, and lifted a finger to her chin. His finger seemed to burn against her skin as he gently closed her gaping mouth. She stared up at him, still unable to speak, and then he grinned and walked past her into the water.

Oh my God. Even though she knew her cheeks were burning, she gradually regained enough composure to turn around and look after him. He was watching her from the middle of the pool, still smiling, the long golden strands of his hair floating on the surface of the water and glittering in the fading sunlight. He looked like some mythical water god brought to life.

“Bath?” he asked, a clear challenge in his voice.

This isn’t a good idea, her rational side insisted, but for once she didn’t want to listen to reason. Back on Earth, she would never have considered skinny dipping with a strange man, but now the rules had changed.

Without consciously making the decision, her fingers went to the buttons of her pajama top and she started unfastening them. She slipped off her top and stepped out of her pajama pants and slippers, leaving her clad only in the skimpy black cami and panties she’d had on underneath her pajamas. Overwhelmingly conscious of how much pale bare flesh was now on display, she did her best not to flinch away from his gaze. The heat in his eyes gave her courage, and she held her head high as she went to join him in the water.

CHAPTER SIX

Boxtar’s cock throbbed in time with his pulse as he watched Pandora walk towards him. Fek, she was beautiful, her lush curves threatening to spill free from the brief dark garments she was wearing. He’d hoped she would remove them too, but he wasn’t really surprised that she kept them on. She seemed so uncertain of her own beauty. He briefly wondered why before he was distracted by the sight of her magnificent breasts moving beneath the thin fabric. The already low neckline of her top slipped even lower, revealing a glimpse of deliciously pink areolae.

His mouth watered at the thought of tasting that tempting flesh, and even though her garments did little to conceal her beauty, he suddenly resented anything that came between him and all that soft, soft skin. His cock throbbed again at the thought of feeling her silky smoothness pressed against his body.

He dragged his eyes away from the tantalizing sight to study her face. She had managed to assume the calm expression that she used to hide her feelings, but he could see her fingers trembling. His chest ached and he deliberately moved further back in the water, allowing her space to enter, even though he longed to go to her side.

As she stepped cautiously out into the water and it rose up over her knees, she sighed with pleasure.

“Why is this water so warm?” She hesitated, then used the language of the scroll to ask again. “No cold?”

I really should tell her that I can understand most of what she says, he thought, but the memory of their language lessons held him back. It has been a very long time since he’d enjoyed anything as much as he’d enjoyed holding her in his lap as they pored over the ancient scroll.

“There’s hot water in the mountains,” he said, trying to use the words she’d learned as he pointed up the slope behind them.

She nodded thoughtfully, and waded over to the waterfall at the far end of the pool.

“Yes, it feels warmer here. I wonder how high you have to go before the water is really hot.”

He suspected she was talking to herself more than him so he didn’t respond, enjoying the way he could almost see the knowledge being stored in her mind. She turned and smiled at him, moving back towards him.

“Somehow, I don’t think you’d approve of me going off to seek the source of the hot springs—”

He opened his mouth to warn her that the bottom of the pool dropped off, but he was too late. She disappeared beneath the surface with a big splash and a startled gasp. Concerned, he rushed over to her, but her head had already popped back up, her dark hair streaming down her face. Her expression was as indignant as a mountain argal dumped unexpectedly into a stream, and he couldn’t help laughing. She glared at him, her usual composure gone.

“You did that on purpose,” she sputtered. “Why didn’t you warn me?”

“I was just about to,” he said soothingly as he reached her.

He realized that her feet didn’t touch the bottom so he pulled her up against him. Her small hands clutched his shoulders, leaning into him as he supported her. Her body pressed against his, the thin wet cloth only a minimal barrier between them, and he could feel the stiff points of her nipples brushing temptingly against his chest.

His hand automatically went to the lush curve of her ass, helping to support her in the water, and he almost groaned as his hand tightened on the soft flesh. Her legs encircled his hips, and even through the fabric between them, he could feel the heated kiss of her cunt against his aching cock. He wanted to pull her even closer, to slide that hot flesh against his cock until her eyes were as dazed with pleasure as they had been last night when he kissed her, but something—perhaps the remnants of the honor that had once been drilled into him—prevented him.

Their faces were only inches apart, and he knew she was studying him, but he couldn’t read her expression. Then she licked those plump, tempting red lips.

“Kiss?” she whispered.

Nothing could have stopped him from responding. He buried his other hand in the damp silk of her hair, holding her in position as his mouth descended over hers. He groaned at the sweetness of her mouth as she met his kiss with equal hunger. Her hands tightened around his neck, pulling him closer as she began to writhe against him, her breasts rubbing deliciously against his chest and her sweet little cunt caressing his cock.

He tightened his grip on her ass, and all thoughts of restraint disappeared as he helped her move against him, sliding her up and down the thick ridges. Every time he reached the top of her slit, she moaned into his mouth, and he concentrated his efforts there, stroking his cock over the spot again and again until her whole body tensed. She gasped, finally breaking the kiss as her body convulsed, her head falling back as she cried out his name.

The word rippled through his body, and then he was coming, shuddering helplessly as his seed spilled against her soft flesh in long pulses.

His knees threatened to betray him, and it was all he could do to hold onto her as she quivered in his arms, her head dropping forward to rest against his shoulder. He tightened his arms around her, vowing in that moment never to let her go. But then she raised her head, her face a delightful shade of pink, and gave him an uncertain smile. Despair washed over him. She was so beautiful and responsive and intelligent—she deserved everything, and what did he have to offer her except a temporary dwelling and an uncertain future?

Perhaps some of his doubts appeared on his face because her smile faltered.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…”

Hating himself even more for the hesitation he could see on her face, he pressed a quick, reassuring kiss to her mouth.

“You were perfect,” he said. “And very, very beautiful.”

She obviously understood enough that her smile returned, although her cheeks grew even pinker. He smiled and carried her out of the water, ignoring her attempt to get down as the water grew shallow.

“You don’t have to carry me. I know I’m heavy.”

She doubted his strength? He adjusted her position so that he was only using a single arm to support her and gave her a triumphant grin. She shook her head, but she was smiling again.

“Showoff,” she muttered. He didn’t understand the words, but as long as she was smiling, he didn’t care.

He carried her over to where her odd-looking clothes had been discarded and sat down with her. She gave her garments a rueful look.

“I wish I could wash my pajamas, but I don’t know how long it will take them to dry and I think it’s going to be cold tonight.”

As if in answer to her words, a cool breeze drifted past them and she shivered. He knew she was right—the air was cooling rapidly as the sun went down, and he suspected it would be a cold night.

“You could wear my clothes.” He offered them to her, but she shook her head.

“That’s very sweet, but I don’t think we’re built the same way.”

“Thank the gods,” he murmured as he squeezed the soft flesh of her ass.

A shy, enchanting smile crept across her face as her cheeks turned pink. “Exactly.”

Then she looked down at her stomach and sighed. “Actually, I suppose I’d better wash these as well. You seem to have left your mark.”

He followed her gaze and saw the faint glittering traces of his seed on the dark cloth covering the soft swell of her stomach. He traced it with his finger as a sudden vision of her body ripening with their child appeared in his head. His cock stiffened so quickly at the image that he was almost dizzy, and she jumped as it reared up against her ass.

“Wow. That was fast. I guess big gold aliens don’t need much recovery time.”

He could see a combination of surprise and interest on her face, but to his utter shock, she reached between their bodies, her soft little fingers dancing lightly along his cock. He groaned and reached for her hand. Every fiber of his being longed to encourage her to stroke him, but he reluctantly moved her hand away instead.

“If you keep doing that, you’ll have more to wash.”

He gestured at the marks on her shirt, and her expression went from uncertain to pleased.

“And you’re right—it is getting colder,” he added, then pointed at her discarded garments. “Go ahead and wash your clothes and I’ll find something else for you to wear.”

From the stubborn tilt to her mouth, he suspected she had understood him but didn’t intend to obey. Easy enough to remedy. He lifted her off his lap, then grabbed her clothing and tossed it into the shallow water at the edge of the pool.

“Why did you do that? You know I don’t have anything else to wear.”

She glared at him, her hands on her hips, and he couldn’t help smiling. Her ferocious expression reminded him more than ever of the fierce little mountain creatures.

“Trust me, little argal. I’ll be right back. Wash,” he added, pointing at the sinking clothes.

She huffed, but headed for the pool as he pulled on his pants and returned to the campsite. He grabbed his cloak, then pulled a length of silk from one of the saddlebags.

“Do I even need to ask where you’re going with that extremely expensive fabric?” Gazar sighed.

“Nope. Deduct it from my share.”

“That would be more reassuring if we were actually getting shares.”

Despite the complaint, Gazar didn’t sound particularly annoyed and Boxtar grinned at him before he returned to his female.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Pandora grabbed her pajamas out of the pool, suddenly remembering the coin in her pocket. Fortunately, it was still there, and she placed it carefully on the ground next to her. She gave her wet clothes a disgusted look, but she might as well wash them now.

She swished them through the water, absently wishing she had some soap, but her mind was far more focused on what had just happened in the pool. She’d never managed to climax except by her own hand, and yet, when he’d rubbed her against that amazing alien cock, she’d come harder than she ever had in her life. But she didn’t think it was just the physical stimulation. Everything about the moment had worked for her—the warm water, the beautiful setting… and Boxtar.

She looked down at sparkling traces of his semen on her cami and smiled. Apparently, it had worked for him too. She wished he hadn’t been so quick to remove her hand. It seemed only fair that she should get to touch him as well. Maybe even taste him. The thought made her nipples bead against the wet cloth of her tank, before she resolutely pushed it away and focused on her washing.

She was rubbing her clothes together when a big hand shoved a handful of leaves at her. She looked up to see Boxtar smiling at her.

“What are those for?”

He crouched down next to her and showed her how crushing the leaves produced a faint, slippery lather with a pleasant herbal scent. She rubbed it into her pajamas and spread them out on the grass to dry.

“And those.”

He gestured at her cami and panties, and after a brief hesitation she grabbed the leaves and walked deeper into the pool. Once the water covered her, she slipped them off and used the leaves to wash first her clothes and then herself. The wet fabric clung unpleasantly when she put them back on before climbing out of the water.

Boxtar had picked up her coin and was doing something to it. He gave her an apologetic look as he handed it back and she saw that he had tied a thin leather strip to it, long enough for her to wear around her neck. The lump appeared in her throat again. Every time he did something thoughtful, her heart threatened to melt a little more.

He dropped the necklace over her head, watching the coin settle in the valley between her breasts, then tugged at her tank. She pushed his hand away.

“No. I’m not going to go around naked.”

It might have been silly to be self-conscious about taking off her clothes in front of him, especially in light of how intimate they had been, but she had never been comfortable being naked.

“Not naked,” he said carefully in Kaisarian, and picked up a folded square of fabric.

“You’ve got to be kidding. That won’t even cover my—”

He grinned and shook it out, and she realized the size had been deceptive. Unfolded, the material was more than big enough to wrap around her body. Subtle blues and purples rippled through the fabric, and it felt like silk beneath her fingers.

“This is beautiful.”

“Not naked,” he repeated as he handed it to her.

Not exactly concealing either, but it would be nice to be out of her wet clothes.

“All right. Turn around,” she added when he didn’t move.

He tried to look as if he didn’t understand her, but she didn’t believe that look for a moment.

“You know what I mean,” she said, making a twirling gesture with her finger.

He laughed and obeyed. She slipped out of her clothes, feeling ridiculously exposed as the cool breeze brushed over her bare skin and her nipples tightened. She quickly wrapped the silk around her like a towel, but the fabric was too silky to stay put and she had to hold it in place.

“I don’t suppose you have a clip of some kind.”

He turned as she spoke, his eyes glowing as he immediately focused on her breasts straining against the thin silk. She knew that men were attracted by the size of her breasts, but she’d always found them rather embarrassing and done her best to hide them. But with Boxtar’s gaze focused on her, she appreciated them for the first time. Her nipples grew even harder, pressing against the silky cloth and she heard him groan.

Feeling suddenly powerful, she let one side of the silk slip lower, the cool fabric caressing her skin as it hovered just above her nipple. She’d never particularly enjoyed having her breasts touched either, but considering how skillfully he’d touched her so far…

Gathering her courage, she slowly revealed the rest of her breast and then looked at him.

“Do you want to touch me here?”

Given the hunger on his face, she half-expected him to grab at her, but although he took a rapid step to her side, all he did was to run his fingers lightly over the soft mound, circling it with a featherlight touch. Her breath caught, and she found herself pushing her chest forward, seeking more of that tantalizing touch. But he refused to be hurried and continued the circles, moving gradually closer and closer to the nipple that was now throbbing and distended, anticipating his touch.

When he finally brushed his thumb across the taut peak, an electric sensation streaked directly to her clit and her legs trembled. He put his other arm around her, holding her upright against him as he resumed the slow circles.

“You could go a little faster,” she said hopefully, but he only grinned at her, flashing those sharp teeth.

Her heart skipped a beat. Would it hurt if he kissed her there? On her breasts? A shiver skated across her skin, but it was not entirely from fear. When he kissed her mouth, he’d never even scratched her lips.

He brushed against her nipple again, a little harder this time.

“Yes, like that. More like that.” Her voice sounded strange, husky and breathless, and she couldn’t believe she was actually urging him on.

He lingered over her nipple, brushing his thumb back and forth for what felt like an eternity before he gripped it between his thumb and finger. Then he squeezed, just a little, but enough to send another streak of fire to her swollen clit.

“Oh, God, yes. More.”

He gradually increased the pressure until it was almost at the point of pain, but it only seemed to drive her arousal higher. Her breath was coming in rapid pants, and she could actually feel the slickness between her legs. He removed his hand, and she started to protest, but then he bent down and closed his mouth over the throbbing peak, sucking it into his mouth with a long, hard pull. She felt the faint prick of his teeth, and her body exploded, the orgasm sweeping over her so suddenly that she would have fallen if he hadn’t been holding her so firmly. He kept sucking, each strong pull resonating in her clit and sending more waves of pleasure through her until her body finally went limp and she pushed weakly at his head.

He raised it immediately, his eyes scanning her face. He must have liked what he saw because he smiled at her, not triumphantly, but with an odd tenderness that made her heart ache. He pulled her closer and kissed her, a long, sweet kiss that seemed to reach every part of her. She reached between their bodies and found the head of his cock pushing past the waistband of his pants. When she ran her fingers across it, it seemed to flutter at her touch. Intrigued, she would have explored further, but once again he gently removed her hand.

“Why don’t you want me to touch you?” she demanded.

“Want,” he said immediately. “But… honor.”

Honor? It was one of the words in the scroll, and she thought she’d interpreted it correctly, but it made no sense here. Unless…

“You don’t think I’m a virgin, do you? That I haven’t been with a male before?”

He growled, but he also shook his head.

“And I know you’re not. I mean, you couldn’t be.” Not when he was so good at touching her.

Pulling her back against him, he ran his fingers through her damp hair. Mmm, that felt good. He felt good too, his bare chest firm and strong against her softer curves, his skin like warm, supple leather with that faint intriguing texture that teased her nipples. Her still bare nipples.

She looked down and realized that the silk had puddled around her feet and she was completely naked. Boxtar followed her gaze, and she saw the swirled head of his cock vibrate before he ruthlessly shoved it back into his pants and reached for the cloth.

“Beautiful,” he murmured, his eyes drifting down over her body one more time before he wrapped the silk around her again. He brought the ends up, then crossed them behind her head and tied them together, making a sarong-type dress.

“You never fail to surprise me.”

He wrapped his cloak around her, gathered up her wet clothes, and led her back to the fire. No one paid any attention to them at first, but she was grateful that the growing dusk hid the color in her cheeks. Gazar looked up and raised a brow, but when he opened his mouth, Housen elbowed him and he shut it again without commenting. The others all seem far more interested in the pot simmering over the flames. It certainly smelled good, and when she tested the meat, it was falling off the bones.

“I think it’s ready.”

The contents of the pot were divided amongst the six of them, and she watched nervously as they took their first bites, but she didn’t need to worry.

“Fek, this is good,” Gazar muttered, and Boxtar echoed him. The others were too busy eating to comment, but that was just as much of a compliment. She smiled and took a bite herself. Hmm. Given the limitations of the camp, it had turned out better than she had hoped. The birds were a little more gamey than domestic fowl, but the spices made a nice counterpoint and the slow simmering made them extremely tender. The cooked tubers had an almost apple-like flavor that complemented the meat.

A shame I don’t have anything to make bread with, she thought as she got down to the gravy.

She snuck a look over at Worvak’s plate and noticed that despite his apparent prejudice against vegetables, he had eaten all of the pieces of tuber. Of course, he had also eaten all the meat, including the bones. No wonder he had intended to simply chop up the birds.

She was thinking about bread again when Boxtar rose and gathered up her empty plate. He and Housen took the plates and the now completely empty pot over to the pond to rinse out as the others began settling down in the blankets—all except Worvak, who once again put himself on guard duty. She was looking over at him when Boxtar returned.

“Does he do that every night? Keep watch?”

Boxtar sat down next to her, then lifted her into his lap. She thought briefly about protesting, but it seemed silly when they had already been so intimate. And besides, it was more comfortable leaning back against him than sitting on the ground.

“Yes,” he said, and she realized he was responding to her question. He hesitated, and she suspected he was searching for Kaisarian words she would understand. “Bad time,” he said at last.

“You mean something bad happened to him in the past?” she asked, gesturing at Worvak’s silent figure.

He shook his head. “Bad to me.”

“Something bad happened to you and he blamed himself?”

He nodded, and she was struck again by how much he seemed to understand what she said. His thumb was casually stroking her thigh, sending a shiver of remembered pleasure through her body. How had he done it? How had he managed to please her more than any human man had ever managed? Her body tensed as she put the two thoughts together, and his hands stilled as he looked at her inquiringly.

“Have you ever met anyone like me before?” she demanded. “Another human?”

“Human?” The caution on his face only made her more suspicious.

“Yes. I’m human, from a planet called Earth. Are you from here? From this planet?”

She patted the ground, and he shook his head.

“I am Balain.”

“And have you?” she asked again. “Met anyone like me?”

“No, argal.” He gently cupped her cheek, looking directly into her eyes. “Not so beautiful.”

She knew she was blushing again, and even though it was probably foolish, she believed him.

“All right. Then how about we have another look at the scroll? If it’s not too late,” she added, looking around at the blanket wrapped males.

He grinned and pulled out the bag containing the scroll. He unrolled it to the point where they had stopped the previous night. As he started to associate one of the symbols with an image, another question occurred to her.

“Is the scroll in your language? Is this Balain?”

He shook his head. “Kaisarian.”

“Is that where we are? On Kaisar?”

He chuckled and pointed up at the stars overhead. “Kaisar.” Then he patted the ground again. “Maskah.”

“I don’t understand. If we’re on Maskah, why is the scroll written in Kaisarian?”

He raised his hand, the palm parallel to the ground. “Kaisar.” Then he pointed repeatedly to the space beneath his hand as he reeled off a number of other names. “Maskah, Balain, Elginar…”

“I think I understand. Kaisar is the planet that rules all of the others?”

When he nodded, she had an unexpected desire to cry. Somehow, they had ended up in the middle of some Galactic Empire, and the very fact that it controlled so many planets made her suspect that they were much farther from Earth than she had dared to think.

“Pandora?” Boxtar asked gently, interrupting her depressing assessment. “No more language?”

“No! I mean, yes. Yes, more lessons.” If she had any hope of getting back to Earth, she needed to learn everything that she could.

He studied her face for a moment, then nodded and bent back down over the scroll. This time, her heart ached for an entirely different reason. Even though she was still determined to find her friends and help them to get back to Earth, she was already dreading the thought of leaving him behind.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Despite her troubled thoughts, the lesson went very well, and she was reluctant to stop when Boxtar finally insisted.

“We have a long day tomorrow,” he said, and she recognized every word in Kaisarian.

She smiled at him, then shivered as he bent over to put the scroll away. Tucked in his arms, she hadn’t realized until that moment how chilly the night had become—much colder than the previous night.

“Is this winter? Telel?” she asked, struck by a sudden realization.

“Soon,” he responded and she shivered again.

Her trip to the woods was as fast as she could make it, and she had no hesitation in snuggling against him when they returned to his blanket. She looked up at the night sky and the distant sliver of moon. A winter moon, just like in the scroll.

“Do you know the story we’re reading?” she asked curiously.

“Yes.”

“Tell it to me, please. In Kaisarian.”

“On a cold winter night, a lonely young girl left her unhappy home and wandered out into the forest.” His voice settled into an oddly formal cadence. “The winter moon shone down through the trees and reflected in the pond near her house. She saw a handsome face on the surface of the moon and with no one else to talk to, she began to tell him her story…”

He started with the part they had read so she recognized most of the words, but even when he continued past it, the words danced through her head and began making a pattern there. She was still trying to put the pieces together when she fell asleep.

Boxtar continued with the story, even though he knew Pandora had fallen asleep. He’d heard the tale many times in his childhood, but now the words took on new meaning. It was the story of an impossible love. Even though he and Pandora were not separated by thousands of miles, their future seemed just as impossible.

He knew he needed to talk to her, but even as rapidly as she was learning, he told himself that she didn’t understand enough words for him to explain about his troubled past and his uncertain future. Or was he simply being a coward? Afraid that the warmth that had started to appear in her eyes would fade when he told her the truth. Would she believe him? No one in his unit—other than Worvak—had believed him. His family certainly hadn’t.

He slept restlessly, haunted by the memory of underground cells and the roar of fighters in the Pit. When he finally fell asleep, he was startled awake by a small, soft hand gently stroking his cock. He knew he should stop her, but in the sleepy darkness of pre-dawn, he didn’t have the willpower.

“Pandora,” he whispered. “What are you doing?”

“Touching you. I want to touch you.” She fitted her fingers between his ridges and slid them up and down his cock. “Does that feel good?”

He couldn’t find the words to express just how good it felt.

“Human men don’t have these ridges. They’re kind of smooth and uninteresting.” She stroked him again, then brushed her thumb over the sensitive papillae at the head of his cock. “Oh my God, they’re moving.”

All he could manage was a strangled groan as she continued to explore. No one had ever touched him there before—they usually only unfurled inside a Balain’s mate—and yet they responded to the mere touch of her fingers, intertwining with them and sending shivers of almost painful pleasure down his spine.

“I wonder what they would feel like inside me.”

Her voice sounded dreamy, and she wiggled against him. He caught the sweet scent of her arousal, and it penetrated his fog of dazed pleasure enough to realize that she needed him. His hand slipped down over the silken fabric and then beneath it to her even silkier skin. She wiggled again as he probed lightly between her legs and found her wet and ready for his touch. He slid a finger between those hot, wet folds, and her whole body shook. So exquisitely responsive.

Her hand tightened on him, and only some distant knowledge that he should remain quiet kept him from roaring with pleasure. He forced himself to concentrate, finding the impossibly small entrance to her cunt and then higher, a single small papilla that throbbed against his finger. Ah, yes, that was the spot that had driven her to ecstasy when he stroked his cock against it. He concentrated there, sweeping his finger back and forth as she used the same rhythm to caress him.

His body tightened, the pressure building at the base of his spine, but it wasn’t until he heard her almost soundless gasp and felt the rush of slick heat dampening his fingers that his climax erupted. His body shook, jerking against her, but somehow he managed to keep from crying out. He kept his hand there, cupping her heated flesh until both of their bodies relaxed and he reluctantly withdrew.

Lifting his damp fingers to his face, he licked them, eager for the taste of her, and felt her smile against his chest.

“I guess that’s one way to clean up.”

An excellent idea. He started to move down her body, but as he did, he heard one of the other males stirring.

“Another time,” he whispered, and gently tugged the length of silk away from her body. He used it to clean them both up, not in the least sorry that he was probably ruining the expensive fabric. It couldn’t begin to compare to the exquisite pleasure of touching his female. “Wait here. I’ll bring your clothes.”

She nodded and he couldn’t resist pressing a quick kiss to her lips before sliding out from under the blanket. Of course Gazar had to be the wakeful one, but he didn’t say anything as Boxtar took Pandora’s clothes from where they had been drying by the fire and handed them to her. He didn’t even comment when Boxtar went to the pond and rinsed out the length of silk, but the amused look on his face spoke volumes.

Boxtar tried to glare at him, but he was too content. He settled for knocking him off balance, smiling as the other male cursed, and went to wake the others.

Pandora gave Boxtar a grateful smile as he handed her her clothes. They had dried overnight and she gratefully pulled them on under the blanket. They were nowhere near as pretty as the length of silk, but they were significantly warmer and without Boxtar’s presence she was aware of just how cold it had turned.

She was sure her cheeks were burning as she scrambled into her clothes, but no one seemed to be paying any attention to the fact that she was obviously dressing. She still couldn’t quite believe that she’d had the nerve to touch him like that—or to respond so eagerly. He played her body as if she were an instrument and he were a master musician. But then again, she thought a little smugly, he responded just as enthusiastically to my touch. Maybe when they arrived in Almadin, she would have more time to explore that fascinating cock.

What am I doing?

She shouldn’t be thinking of sexy times with Boxtar—she should be figuring out how to find her friends and get them off this planet. Guilt swept over her and even once they started riding, she didn’t have her usual enthusiasm about learning his language. No, not his language, Kaisarian. The reminder that they were now part of some Galactic Empire only depressed her more.

The day continued to go downhill. The sky turned a dark, heavy grey, and an icy wind buffeted them throughout their ride. Boxtar’s big body helped to shelter her, as did the cloak he insisted she wear, but she was still cold and miserable when he finally sent Worvak ahead to find a camp.

This time, there was no pleasant meadow next to a pond. Instead, they made camp in a shallow gully between two enormous rock formations. The ground was hard and dry, but at least the rock walls blocked most of the wind and reflected some of the heat from the fire. She huddled next to it as the males finished setting up camp and tending to the mori. When the sound of movement finally ceased, she looked up to find all five of them staring at her hopefully.

“What?”

Worvak thrust the cooking pot in her direction. “Food?”

“I don’t suppose this is the time for a lecture on gender roles,” she muttered. After all, they hadn’t asked until after she had volunteered—and she really didn’t want any more of Worvak’s cooking. “What supplies do you have?”

There wasn’t much other than the ubiquitous travel jerky, but Housen handed over a small bag of grain and Worvak surprised her with a handful of the onion-like stalks from their last camp.

“My goodness. Have I converted you to vegetables?”

He gave her a ferocious scowl. “No.”

“What if we just call them seasoning?”

“That is acceptable.”

His face remained impassive, but she thought she detected a hint of amusement in his eyes, and she laughed. “Seasoning it is.”

She chopped up the jerky and the stalks and added them to the pot along with the grain, water, and a sprinkle of salt. The resulting concoction was vaguely—very vaguely—reminiscent of a beef and barley soup. She wouldn’t have called it one of her finest efforts, but it was hot, filling, and reasonably tasty. None of the males complained, and once again they emptied the pot.

They all went to their blankets as soon as the meal was over, Worvak assuming his usual watchful position at the mouth of the gully. Boxtar picked up the scroll, but he was obviously distracted and called an early end to their reading session. She didn’t object—the cold was seeping into the canyon, and her body ached from all the riding. He wrapped the cloak around her before pulling her into his arms and covering them both with the blanket. He held her even tighter than usual, and she considered some additional exploration of his body, but she was too exhausted. She snuggled into the warmth of his big body and drifted off to sleep.

CHAPTER NINE

Boxtar held Pandora as she slept and stared up at the thin sliver of sky above the rock walls. No stars were visible tonight, only the looming clouds that promised an early winter storm. He suspected that it was already snowing in the mountains, and the thought only added to the pressure he’d been feeling all day. They had to get back to Sekala as soon as possible—but what was he going to do about Pandora?

He agreed with Gazar’s original comment that the island wasn’t a suitable place for a delicate female—they had little more than the necessities and certainly none of the luxuries she deserved. But neither could he leave her in the city, alone and defenseless, prey to any unscrupulous male. The Imperial Government had very specific laws about slavery—which did not include making victims of innocent females—but their reach was limited on a backwater planet like this.

Thinking about Imperial law naturally led him to consider the Royal Fleet. They did have a small outpost on Maskah, but while he was not quite as negative about them as the rest of his band, he knew that it only took one corrupt official to ruin the entire batch. Not to mention the fact that he was presumably still in their records as an escaped prisoner.

Perhaps there was another alternative. He could take her to Sekala with him, but then return to the city once they’d delivered their supplies. He usually kept his time in Almadin short in order to avoid any unfortunate encounters, but as long as they lived quietly, it should be safe enough. He had enough funds to rent a small residence—although not too small since he was sure that Worvak would insist on accompanying them.

He told himself that he could use the winter to find a more permanent home for her, but spring was a long time away. The more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea. The depression that had haunted him all day finally began to lift, and he smiled as he drew her closer and finally fell asleep.

His good mood continued into the next morning, even though he didn’t get a chance to wake her as delightfully as she’d woken him the day before. Everyone was up and stirring before daybreak, ready to move on from the uncomfortable camp.

As a result, they reached Almadin not long after noon. They came around the last curve of the mountain, and he brought his animal to a halt so that she could look out at the city.

“This is Almadin.”

“Already?”

She leaned forward eagerly, and he followed her gaze, trying to remember what it had been like to see the city for the first time. He hadn’t been impressed, just angry and desperate, anxious to get away from the watchful eye of the Empire but furious to be forced to live on such a primitive planet. He no longer resented it so much, and he was able to give it a more neutral appraisal.

The city sprawled along the coastline, following the curve of the natural harbor. The buildings were a colorful assortment of styles ranging from the native timber and stone to hard packed dirt walls to the metallic modules favored by many of the offworlders.

The trail they had been following led directly to the major thoroughfare along the water’s edge, the harborside a jumbled mixture of taverns and brothels and cheap inns. The other major road also followed the coastline, but it was set further back in the more prosperous section of town.

Beyond the city, the grasslands of the great plains stretched into the distance, turning into wooded foothills at the base of the mountains. The tall range curved all the way from the eastern coast to the other side of the continent and then up the far side of the plains. Heavy clouds obscured the mountain peaks, confirming his suspicions as he looked at them. Their lower flanks were already white with snow, presaging an early winter. They needed to move quickly.

Before he could urge his mori into action, Pandora clutched his arm, her eyes intent on a ship descending through the atmosphere, heading for the spaceport on the far side of the city.

“That’s a spaceship.” She looked up at him, her eyes wide with excitement. “I didn’t realize there was a spaceport here. Do you think that means I could find a way to return my friends to Earth?”

He didn’t want to quench her excitement, but he decided she needed to know the truth.

“Does Earth have spaceships?” he asked gently. “Like that?”

She hesitated. “Spaceships, yes. But…” She looked at the area beyond the city where the ship had disappeared out of sight and shook her head. “But not like that. We’ve only gone as far as our moon.”

Fek. She had just confirmed his worst suspicions about her origins. Before he could decide what to tell her, something in his face must have given him away because she paled.

“That’s a problem, isn’t it?”

“It is forbidden.”

He knew she would recognize the word from the scroll, and he saw the understanding—and despair—on her face.

“But the alien who took us from Earth, he managed to get there,” she said desperately. “So there must be a way.”

How could he explain to her that the only ones who would take the risk would be those hoping to profit from the sale of her species?

“Forbidden,” he repeated. “Only bad males would go there.”

Even though she tried to compose her face, he saw her mouth quiver and his heart ached. He wished he had a better answer for her. For now, all he could do was tighten his arms around her and urge the mori on to catch up with the others.

She didn’t speak again until he paused just before they connected with the main avenue to pull up the hood of her cloak and make sure it concealed as much of her as possible.

“Am I that different?” she asked, her voice despairing. “Too different to fit in?”

“Too beautiful,” he said firmly, and she managed a faint smile.

He had spoken the truth—but not the entire truth. He was concerned that her beauty would attract attention, but it wasn’t just for her protection. He didn’t want anything drawing attention to their little band as they entered the city.

They made their way along the waterfront, heading for the inn they usually frequented on these trips. The innkeeper was an unpleasant male, but his rooms were clean, he had stables for the mori, and most importantly, he knew how to keep his mouth shut. They rode through the gate into the stable yard of the inn and dismounted. Kahil took the animals into the stables, and Gazar and Housen accompanied him to retrieve their goods while Worvak remained at his side.

Venday, the innkeeper, came rushing out, a fake smile on his thin face. Like all Guulli, he was tall and thin, with long curled ringlets. His ringlets were an unpleasant shade of green, glistening with scented oil and contrasting unpleasantly with his purple robes.

“Greetings, honored sir. You wish for your usual accommodation?”

He hadn’t thought of that. Normally, he shared a bunk room with the rest of his males, but even though they had been close by during the journey, he didn’t want Pandora in a room with all of them.

“Yes, but I would also like a private room. The nicest one you have,” he added.

Venday’s smile broadened as he cast a knowing glance at Pandora’s cloaked figure. Even the dark fabric wrapped around her couldn’t entirely conceal her lush figure.

“Of course, of course. Follow me.” Venday led the way into the inn, pausing long enough to issue an impatient order to a meek Guulli female. “Bring refreshments to the harbor room. At once.”

The female nodded and scurried away while Venday escorted them up three flights of stairs to a room on the top floor.

“My finest room,” he said grandly. “It is a Daichin room, so everything should be large enough to accommodate you.”

The room was a good size, with simple wooden furniture and plain, sturdy fabrics. It wasn’t fancy, but it was as spotless as the rest of the inn. Two large windows led out onto a small balcony with a view of the harbor.

“Yes, this will do.”

“Of course, you understand that the rate is a little higher since there will be two of you sharing the room.”

Venday gave Pandora’s cloaked figure another lecherous look, and Boxtar bit back a growl. A display of possessiveness on his part would only arouse additional interest. He haggled briefly over the price, more because it was expected than because he cared about the actual amount. They reached an agreement just as the maid appeared. She slipped into the room with an apologetic murmur and set a tray containing a bottle of wine and some fruit and cheese on the table next to the fireplace.

“On the house,” Venday said grandly.

Since he was well aware that, despite their negotiation on the price, Venday had seriously overcharged him for the room, he wasn’t particularly impressed by the apparent generosity, but he forced himself to nod.

“Thank you. That will be all.”

Venday didn’t take the hint, continuing to hover by the door.

“Of course, of course. If there is anything else that you or your female desire…”

Worvak had been a silent witness to their interactions, checking the room while they bargained, and now he appeared at Venday’s elbow.

“It is time for you to leave,” he growled.

Venday looked up at Worvak’s imposing figure, gulped, and headed for the door, Worvak close behind him.

“I will check on the preparations,” Worvak said, and followed the innkeeper out of the room.

Long experience made Boxtar lock the door behind them before he turned to Pandora. She had wandered over to the balcony, looking out at the ships in the harbor. He joined her and put his arms around her waist from behind. He was afraid she would push him away, but instead she sighed and leaned back against him.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

“I don’t know. I tried to tell myself that there must be a way to return home, to return to Earth, but I think deep down I knew it wasn’t going to happen.” She turned in his arms and looked up at him, her face distressed. “What am I going to do now?”

“Stay with me.” The words emerged before he had a chance to consider them. He knew he should add that it was only for the winter, but he couldn’t bring himself to say the words.

From the look on her face she’d understood his offer, but she didn’t immediately agree. If anything, she looked even more worried.

“But what about my friends? You said Olivia would be coming from the mountains, right? How long do you think it will take?”

He hesitated, then leaned over the end of the balcony and pointed at the mountains rising behind the city.

“There’s already snow on the mountains.”

It took a moment before she understood, and then her mouth quivered.

“You mean it’s already winter there? What’s Olivia going to do?”

“The guard is a Daichin. They live in the mountains.”

Those ridiculously blunt teeth closed over her plump lower lip.

“If they live there, then Baldric would know how to keep her safe. And I’m sure he will. I’m sure he likes her.” She seemed to be talking more to herself than to him, but then she looked up at him again. “How long? How long before they can come to Almadin?”

“Not until the end of the winter,” he said as gently as possible, but she still swayed.

“You mean I won’t see her again until the spring?” He could see tears sparkling in her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. Instead she frowned up at him. “How long until the caravan gets here?”

They hadn’t covered numbers yet in their lessons so he used his fingers. “Six days at least. Why?”

Why was she so concerned about the traders? Was she afraid they would try to reclaim her?

“We will be on Sekala by then,” he assured her, but he could see she didn’t understand so he pointed at the ships in the harbor.

“We sail tomorrow.” If the gods were in their favor. It might take two days to dispose of everything and purchase their supplies, but he didn’t want her to worry. Instead of looking relieved, she looked appalled.

“You want me to get on a boat? We— I—can’t leave before the caravan arrives.”

“Why—”

Two rapid thuds sounded on the door before he could finish his question, and he recognized Worvak’s decisive knock. “I have to go.”

“You can’t leave now. We have to talk.”

“Later,” he promised.

He hated to leave her in distress, but the sooner he concluded his business, the sooner he could devote himself to reassuring her fears.

“I’m going to lock the door,” he told her. “It is for your safety.”

He didn’t think she understood until he pulled out the key, and her eyes widened.

“No! You can’t lock me in here.”

He didn’t like it either, but he didn’t trust Venday or the curious glances he had given Pandora.

“It is for your safety,” he repeated as he slipped through the door and closed it firmly behind him, turning the key in the lock.

He heard her give an outraged cry, and he desperately wanted to return to her, but there were others relying on him. Still, he hesitated, looking over at Worvak.

“Perhaps she could accompany us?”

“You know that is not a good idea. If we are forced to protect her, it would draw attention to us as well as to her.”

He couldn’t hear anything else from within the room, so he sighed and nodded. “I suppose you’re right. Let’s get this over with.”

CHAPTER TEN

As soon as Boxtar left, Pandora rushed back to the windows, but the small balcony offered no easy escape to the street below. Perhaps another woman could have climbed over the railing and made her way down the façade—she suspected that Olivia would have at least tried—but she was not that woman. She closed the windows and started pacing, trying to determine the best course of action.

How could he do this to me?

Just as she was allowing herself to trust him, he had to go and lock her in. She’d understood what he said well enough to know that he thought he was protecting her, but he could have just told her to lock the door from inside. And he hadn’t even waited to find out why she couldn’t leave Almadin yet, even though she was finally ready to tell him about Quinn.

What was she going to do? She didn’t have any illusions about her ability to prevent him from simply carrying her on board a ship if he decided that was best. Under other circumstances, she would even have enjoyed sailing off with him, but she couldn’t leave Quinn in the hands of the traders. And while she believed Boxtar had no intention of hurting her, she wasn’t quite as sure about his willingness to listen to her. Especially since he’d simply taken her from the caravan.

Hmm. She hadn’t considered that before. What if Zargan reported him as a thief? No matter how angry she was right now, she didn’t want him thrown in jail. She sighed and sat down, trying to assemble her thoughts logically.

Even assuming she could manage to get out of this room, she didn’t have any illusions about her ability to support herself in Almadin. Unless someone wants a librarian who can barely read the language, she thought bitterly. Although she did have one skill that seemed to translate—her ability to cook. Maybe it would be enough to provide for her and for Quinn, assuming she could get her friend away from the traders.

She would definitely need help for that part, and she thought back to her original instinct to seek out some type of law enforcement. Could she find a copy of their laws first? Did she know enough words to be able to find out the official position on stolen women? Maybe they did have a library here, or perhaps a city hall. From what she remembered when they stopped to look at the city, the largest buildings—hopefully municipal buildings—were clustered on the street in the center of the city. Assuming she could get out of the room, she’d start there.

She thought she’d feel better now that she had a plan, but she didn’t.

I don’t want to leave Boxtar.

She wanted to keep reading the scroll with him, and sleep in his arms, and explore the way he made her feel—the way they made each other feel. Tears threatened to fill her eyes, but she blinked them back. If only she could be sure that he’d listen to her and wait for Quinn and the caravan, but she couldn’t. And she couldn’t leave her friend to be sold. She didn’t have a choice.

With a sigh, she decided to try picking the lock—she’d read a book about how it worked once, and it didn’t seem that hard. Unfortunately, it turned out to be more difficult than the book had made it sound, and she was still working on it when she heard a timid knock, followed by a soft voice.

“Mistress? Are you safe?”

She thought she recognized the voice as that of the maid who had brought them refreshments, but it didn’t really matter as long as whoever was out there could help her escape.

“No. Not safe. Can help?”

Holding her breath, she prayed she’d used the words correctly. She heard a quiet click, and then the door opened an inch and the concerned face of the maid appeared in the opening.

“Come in,” she said quickly and pulled the other female inside. “I’m Pandora. What’s your name?”

“I am Dara,” the girl said shyly.

“Can you help me get out of here?”

Dara hesitated, then nodded.

“Oh, thank goodness. Wait a minute, did you understand what I was saying?”

The girl nodded again and touched her ear. Boxtar had done the same thing, she remembered, when he realized she didn’t understand him.

“Do you have some kind of translator?” she asked slowly.

“Yes. Not good,” Dara added with an apologetic smile.

“It’s better than nothing.” She glanced over at the windows, trying to guess how long it would be before Boxtar and Worvak returned. It couldn’t be that easy to dispose of stolen goods. Maybe she could take the opportunity to get answers to some of her questions.

“Are there slaves in Almadin?”

Dara flinched. “Yes.”

“Are you one?” she asked gently.

The girl shook her head, obviously searching for words. “Work short time. For pay.”

“You mean like some kind of contract? I guess that’s one alternative.” She hesitated, then blurted out, “Could someone just steal you off the street and sell you? Make you a slave?”

“Forbidden. But…”

“But it could happen? I suppose that’s true even back on Earth.” However, if it was forbidden, there must be some kind of authority who had forbidden it. “Who rules the city?”

Dara erupted into speech, but she was talking too quickly for Pandora to pick out more than a few words. She was pretty sure she heard Kaisar and forbidden again.

“Let’s try this again. Is there someone I can go to and make a report? To let them know about someone being stolen?”

Dara said something that she couldn’t make out, then shrugged. “Lord Stalan.”

She recognized the word Lord from the story and gave Dara an excited look.

“You mean there’s a Lord in charge of the city?”

“Yes.” Dara didn’t sound entirely sure, but close enough.

“Could I go see him?”

The girl looked even more doubtful, but finally nodded.

“Excellent.” After she alerted this Lord to the arriving caravan and Quinn’s presence, then she could come back and try talking to Boxtar again. Hopefully, he would listen and help, but at least she’d have a backup plan in case he didn’t. “Can you tell me how to get there?”

Dara nodded again, then pointed at Pandora’s clothing and shook her head. “Not good.”

She looked down at herself and sighed. “I know. Red plaid pajamas are a little out of place. But I don’t have anything else.”

“Wait.”

The other female darted out of the room before she could object. She only hoped that Dara didn’t think Pandora would be able to wear any of her clothes. However, the girl returned a short time later with a surprising assortment of garments. They found a pair of flowing pants in a coarse blue linen that fit well enough. The matching tunic was a little tight across the bust, but it would do.

“Where did all of these come from?” she asked as she studied herself in the mirror. Definitely more suitable than her pajamas.

Dara looked apologetic as she tried to explain. Pandora managed to glean enough from her words to realize that the clothes must have been left by other guests.

“I don’t mind,” she assured her as she pulled her cloak back on over her new outfit.

With Dara leading the way, they made their way silently down the backstairs, then through a narrow passage to the main street. Dara repeated the instructions, looking even more hesitant.

“Are sure?” she asked.

“I’m sure.” Hopefully, her voice sounded more confident than she felt.

Dara squeezed her hand, then disappeared back along the passageway.

Satisfaction filled Boxtar as he strode down the street. The sale of the stolen items had been profitable—not as profitable as if they had been legitimate goods, but profitable enough to enable them to buy the supplies they needed and provide individual shares for each member of his band. He sent the others off to make the purchases and arrange for them to be loaded on the ship, and then he did the last thing he ever wanted to do. He headed for the Fleet offices.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Worvak demanded, appearing at his side a moment later.

“I’m going to the Fleet. They need to know that there are illegal slaves on this planet. I asked around, and Commander Trogar has a reputation as an honorable male.”

“You cannot do this. You are in their records as an escaped prisoner, and none of us would bear closer inspection by the Fleet.”

“I know,” he said, still walking. “You should not accompany me. That way if anything goes wrong, you will not fall under suspicion.”

He came to an abrupt halt and turned to face his friend. “If anything should happen to me, you will take care of Pandora, won’t you?”

“I have no desire to care for a female,” Worvak growled.

“I know you don’t, but she is my mate. Promise me?”

Worvak scowled at him—an expression fierce enough to send another male running—but finally gave a reluctant nod. “Very well. I will make sure she is cared for—”

“Thank you.” A weight lifted off his chest. He trusted Worvak more than he trusted any other male in the universe.

“—but I may be unable to do so personally. I am coming with you.” Boxtar started to protest, but Worvak’s scowl only deepened. “I failed you once. I shall not fail you again.”

“You did not fail me,” he said automatically, even though he knew Worvak would not believe him.

“I did. I should never have left you.”

“You had other duties.”

“This time I do not—and I have no desire to arrange another escape,” Worvak added, a hint of humor appearing in his eyes. “I am too old for such endeavors.”

“You’re only ten years older than I am.” He resumed his journey, making no further attempt to dissuade Worvak.

“Yes, but you are getting old as well.”

He suspected Worvak was right, and not just about his physical age. He had gone from idealistic warrior to embittered prisoner, to the reluctant leader of a band of assorted misfits. He hadn’t given it much thought until this trip, but now he realized how tired he was of the life that had been forced upon him.

“I don’t want to do this anymore,” he confessed as they grew closer to the spaceport. “I want a home, perhaps even a family.”

“Finding a mate changes your priorities,” Worvak agreed. He didn’t seem surprised by Boxtar’s outburst.

“But the people on Sekala need us.”

“I agree.” Worvak nodded thoughtfully. “I must think on this.”

When they reached the Fleet offices, Boxtar made one last attempt to persuade Worvak not to accompany him, but the other male simply gave him a blank stare and refused to leave. Boxtar sighed and didn’t offer any additional protests as Worvak followed him into the building.

An older Kaisarian officer sat behind a desk, entering information into his datapad. Even sitting, he maintained a rigid military stance, and he didn’t immediately look up from his work, although he was obviously aware of their entry. He made them wait just long enough to make it clear that he was in charge, before frowning up at them.

“Yes?” His voice was as forbidding as his face.

“I wish to speak to Commander Trogar.” Boxtar was annoyed to realize that he had automatically assumed a military posture and way of speaking.

The officer scanned him, clearly unimpressed. “Why?”

“I wish to report some possible illegal activity.”

“Then you can tell me about it.”

No. There was no way he would trust any information about his female, let alone the other female, to this arrogant male.

“The information is only for the commanding officer.”

The male’s frown only deepened. “He is not available.”

“Does the law of open access no longer apply?”

The Fleet officials serving on these remote planets were supposed to make themselves available to members of the local community.

“It does,” the official admitted reluctantly. “The last session was two days ago. The next one will be at the conclusion of the Harvest Festival. You may request a hearing at that time.”

Fek. He couldn’t wait that long. He had to get the supplies back to Sekala before the seas became impassable.

“And I cannot speak to him before then?”

“Commander Trogar is a busy male.” The officer gave them another disparaging glance, and Boxtar growled. The other male tensed, and one of his hands disappeared below the desk. “You have your answer. It is time for you to leave.”

Infuriated at the other male’s casual dismissal, Boxtar took a step towards the desk, but Worvak’s hand clamped down on his arm.

“We will return,” Worvak growled as he pulled Boxtar out of the door and marched him away from the offices.

“Why did you do that?” he demanded when the other male finally released him.

“Because he was either about to draw a weapon or summon assistance. Neither action would have a positive result for you or your female.”

Boxtar sighed and forced himself to let the anger drain away.

“You’re right.”

“I only hope that we have not aroused his interest enough for him to launch an investigation. We need to set sail as soon as possible.”

“I suppose you’re right about that as well, but Pandora is not going to be happy.”

“Perhaps you should return bearing gifts,” Worvak suggested.

He considered the idea. He didn’t for one minute think that Pandora would be swayed by material objects, but they might soften the blow. And he suddenly knew exactly what would please her the most. He grinned at Worvak.

“That’s not a bad idea. We need to go shopping.”

The other male scowled and took a step back. “I may have been too hasty. Perhaps you should woo her with your sexual prowess instead.”

Boxtar laughed. “Shopping, my friend.”

Worvak muttered a curse, but he fell in step next to him.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Pandora took a deep breath, made sure her cloak was tightly fastened and the hood pulled down over her head, and stepped out into the street. Moving through the bustle of activity on the waterfront while mounted on a mori was a very different experience than walking along the street. She was almost run over by a male pushing a cart full of barrels and narrowly avoided a bucket of fish guts slung across the path. She quickly learned to keep a wary eye on her surroundings.

Under other circumstances, she would have found the whole thing fascinating. Not only because of the surprisingly variety of aliens on the streets, but because of the interesting mixture of advanced and primitive technology. It would be easy to think of Almadin as an almost medieval town, but then she would pass a sleek metal storefront, or a young girl would speed past on what looked like a hoverboard.

In addition to what she assumed was the usual activity, preparations for an upcoming event were clearly underway. Colorful pendants were being strung from building to building, and when she turned away from the harbor and headed into the more prosperous part of town, there were elaborate displays of flowers and overflowing piles of produce. She remembered suggesting to Olivia that the traders might be heading for a Harvest Festival, and it appeared that she’d been right.

The thought of her friend made her want to tear up again, but she was doing her best to believe that Olivia was safe with Baldric. Boxtar had told her that the guard came from the mountains so he must know how to survive there. She frowned, suddenly wondering how Boxtar had known about Baldric. Baldric had dived into the river after Olivia long before they reached the campsite.

How had he known? Unless he’d been watching them earlier that day. She thought back to the damaged bridge, and a reluctant smile curved her lips. Of course. He and the others must have sabotaged the bridge on purpose in order to trap the caravan. She couldn’t help admiring his ingenuity, no matter how illegal. But the thought of illegal activity reminded her again of her mission, and she hurried on, refusing to be distracted by thoughts of Boxtar.

The street leading up from the harbor intersected with the other main road at a central marketplace, and Dara had told her to take the corresponding street on the far side of the market. The market was also a zoo of activity with stalls being assembled and more decorations being arranged. She did her best to avoid everyone, but as she ducked out of the way of the load of lumber, she ran into a very tall, hard body.

“Oof.”

A hand reached out to steady her, and she looked up, way up, into the face of another one of the orc-like aliens. What had Boxtar called them? The Daichin? His face was as stoic as Baldric’s had been, but after studying her for a moment, he reached out and gently tugged on a strand of her hair. Oh, crap, her hood had fallen down. She pulled it back up and tried to step back, but the male didn’t release her. He wasn’t hurting her, but there was no way she was getting away from him until he decided to let her go.

“I have journey,” she said in Kaisarian, hoping he would understand. He didn’t respond immediately, and her heart sank.

“Safe?” he finally asked in a deep, rumbling voice.

“Yes, I’m safe. I just have to go and see Lord Stalan.”

She’d hoped that dropping the Lord’s name would reassure him, but if anything, he looked even more forbidding. He shook his head, but to her relief, he released her arm and stepped back.

“Thank you,” she said quickly and hurried off before he changed his mind.

The fact that he was the second person to assume she might be in trouble didn’t exactly reassure her, but she was committed to her plan. When she finally reached the far side of the marketplace, the amount of activity lessened and it was much easier to avoid the traffic.

Lord Stalan’s mansion was only a short distance further and easy enough to recognize from Dara’s description. The imposing building had thick stucco walls forming what must have once been a simple, stately facade. Now almost every inch of the stucco was covered in decorations. Everything from inlaid shell mosaics to reflective metal tiles to carved, painted symbols adorned the walls. She suspected it was designed to impress, but the sheer amount of ornamentation made it almost comical instead.

No one challenged her as she made her way through an elaborate entry courtyard, already decorated for the upcoming festival, to an enormous front door. The door stood open, and inside she could see more people rushing around, putting up decorations. She walked into the building, expecting someone to ask her business, but they were all far too busy to pay attention to her. After waiting for a few minutes for someone to notice her, she shrugged and started down a wide corridor, peeking into rooms as she went. Most of them were empty, or only occupied by servants putting up more decorations. When she reached the final set of doors, the most elaborate she’d seen so far, she suspected she had reached her destination. She knocked lightly, and heard a shouted command to enter.

“Yes, yes. What is it?” an impatient voice demanded as she stepped into the room.

For a moment, she was too startled to answer. Just like the outside of the building, every inch of the room had been decorated and all of the decorations sparkled or glistened, reflecting the last rays of sunlight streaming in through the big windows. It was rather like being in the center of a disco ball.

“I said, what is it?”

She jumped at the question and turned to look at the male behind the enormous desk. He was Guulli, but unlike every Guulli she had seen so far, he was immensely obese. He had a round face and small eyes that glittered as he surveyed her.

“Are you Lord Stalan?” she asked.

“Of course I am. Now tell me why you’re here. Are you the food person?”

She understood enough to shake her head, finally coming out of her daze.

“No. I’m here to report illegal slavery.”

An expression she couldn’t read flashed across his face, and then he sat back in his chair.

“Indeed? Tell me about it.”

Hoping that he had a translator, she began her story, leaving out as much as possible and trying to focus on Quinn and the caravan. He nodded thoughtfully as she talked, but he didn’t ask any questions until she finished.

“Who are you?” he demanded.

“No one. Just a concerned citizen.”

His eyes narrowed even further. “Take off that cloak.”

She wasn’t about to go that far, but she reluctantly pushed back her hood. He didn’t seem surprised by her appearance.

“You are not from Maskah.”

“No, I’m not. I’m visiting with my… mate.”

She had used the term only so he wouldn’t think she was alone, but it sounded surprisingly right on her lips.

“Indeed.” He regarded her for a moment longer, and nodded. “Thank you for bringing this matter to my attention.”

“And you will help?” she asked anxiously.

“The caravan will be met as they enter the city.”

A sigh of relief shuddered out of her.

“Thank you.”

“It is my job.”

Those beady little eyes were studying her again, and she had the sudden urge to escape. She started edging towards the door. “Thank you again.”

“Do you require an escort?”

“No, thank you. My mate is waiting for me.”

He didn’t look as if he believed her, but he nodded as she slipped out the door, closing it behind her with a sigh of relief. That had turned out better than she’d expected. Even though Lord Stalan made her skin crawl, he had promised to help. Still, she hoped that Boxtar would listen to her when she returned and that they wouldn’t need his help after all.

The activity on the street in front of Lord Stalan’s mansion had increased, even during the short time that she’d been inside, and she hesitated briefly, reluctant to plunge into the busy throng.

The hard part is over, she told herself. I made it this far. Now all I have to do is get back to the inn.

She took another deep breath and set off down the street, dodging her way past various revelers. The sun was low on the horizon now, and a variety of lights started to come on—everything from neon signs to flaming torches—but they only made the encroaching darkness that much more ominous.

The marketplace was even worse than before. A number of stalls had opened and were selling various types of food and what she suspected were various types of alcohol. If Boxtar had been at her side, she would have enjoyed investigating the different stalls and sampling some of the offerings, but all she wanted to do now was to get back to him.

She tried to work the way around the edge of the stalls, but there were people everywhere. She wondered what had happened to the Daichin she had met earlier. She could use his assistance now. When a big hand clamped down on her arm, she turned with a smile, expecting to see that forbidding face. Instead, an unknown alien stood there, a big male with a bald, sloping skull rising from wide shoulders. His grey skin had an unpleasant greenish tinge, and she shuddered. He smirked at her as a second male appeared, seizing her other arm.

“Come with us,” he ordered.

“No, uh, thank you. I have to get back to my mate. He’s right over there.”

She waved a hand towards the crowd, searching desperately for a friendly face, but the male only tightened his grip painfully.

“Come with us,” he repeated, leaning down to scowl into her face. “If you don’t struggle, you won’t get hurt. Much.”

CHAPTER TWELVE

Laden with packages, Boxtar hurried up the stairs to their room. He couldn’t wait to see Pandora’s face when she opened her presents. He reached for the door handle to unlock the door, and it swung silently open. He stared in stunned disbelief at the empty room.

“Stay here,” Worvak ordered, pushing him to one side as he entered.

Fek that. He followed Worvak as his second made a thorough check of the room, even looking beneath the bed. Nothing.

“Feking Venday,” he snarled, heading back to the door. “I’m going to string him up by his hair.”

“I do not think that Venday is responsible.”

“What do you mean?”

He whirled around to find his second inspecting a small piece of paper before handing it to Boxtar.

“Her Kaisarian is quite good,” Worvak said calmly as Boxtar stared at the short note.

Journey City Lord. Help. Return.

“City Lord? She went to see Lord Stalan? Oh, fek. We have to go after her.”

He dropped the packages and headed back down the stairs as fast as he could, Worvak on his heels. Although nothing had ever been proven about Lord Stalan, there were enough rumors about his corruption to concern Boxtar. And even if the male was honest, the thought of his female alone in the increasing crowd of revelers made his pulse pound in his ears.

He hadn’t paid the crowd much attention as he and Worvak returned to the inn, but now that he knew Pandora was out there, every drunken male or provincial trader looked threatening. The Festival had not yet begun, but the inhabitants of Almadin were already celebrating. The smell of alcohol and loud, drunken voices permeated the crowd. It was growing dark as well. How was he going to find one small female in the chaos?

He didn’t know, but there was no choice. He had to find her.

He pushed his way ruthlessly through the crowd, ignoring the drunken protests, Worvak at his side. He’d head to Lord Stalan’s mansion first, then widen the search if she wasn’t there.

“You should get the others,” he said.

“That will take time. We should search her path first.” Worvak’s voice was still calm, but his face was grim.

They reached the marketplace and he muttered a curse. The entire area was teeming with people. Should they try and search here? Lord Stalan first, he decided, forcing a drunken male out of his way. They were halfway across the area when he saw a flash of pale skin.

“Did you see that?” he demanded, trying desperately to catch a hint of her scent through the crowd.

“No, but I was looking ahead.”

If he was wrong, they were wasting valuable time, but his instincts were screaming at him.

“This way,” he decided, shoving his way towards where he thought—prayed—he’d seen Pandora. The crowd thinned out a little as they reached the edge of the marketplace, and he looked around in despair. There was no sign of her. But then he heard the roar of a Daichin. He and Worvak looked at each other and set off at a run.

The noise had come from an alley leading off the main street. Only a single lantern illuminated it, but it was enough to see the Daichin slamming a Zameetan’s face against the wall. Another Zameetan slammed into his back and the Daichin roared again. A fierce grin covered Worvak’s face as he headed for the battle. Boxtar was more concerned about the figure huddled against the opposite wall.

“Pandora!”

She looked up when he called her name, then raced towards him. He met her halfway, his arms closing around her as she flung herself into his arms.

“Thank God you’re here. Those two aliens grabbed me and I couldn’t get away from them, and then the orc came but there’s only one of him, and I wasn’t sure if he was going to be able to defeat them by himself.”

He took a quick look over at the fight, but Worvak and the Daichin had the matter well in hand and he focused back on his female.

“You should not have left me.”

“You don’t understand. I had to go.”

“Why?” he demanded, then shook his head. That conversation could wait. “Thank the gods you’re safe.”

She hiccupped and burrowed tighter into his arms. “I’m so glad you’re here. I was scared I was never going to see you again.”

He shuddered at the thought and held her tighter. He heard the snap of bones breaking, and a moment later Worvak rejoined him, still grinning.

“A worthy battle. And a worthy comrade,” he added, as the Daichin came up next to him.

Boxtar nodded. “Thank you for coming to my female’s aid.”

“Yes, thank you,” Pandora said softly. “I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t shown up.”

“I am glad that I could help. You should take better care of your female.” The Daichin frowned at him.

“Oh, I intend to. I may never let her out of my sight again.”

Pandora made a faint protesting noise, but they both ignored it.

The other male nodded. “Good. Would you like me to accompany you to your residence?”

“That won’t be necessary.”

“Very well. Make sure you keep watch over her. She is a very tempting target.”

Despite his gratitude, he didn’t like the approving note in the other male’s voice.

“She is safe with me,” he growled, and lifted her into his arms despite her protests.

He nodded to the other male and let Worvak clear a path through the crowd as he carried her back to the inn. His second escorted them to their room, did his usual quick survey, then headed for the door. He paused long enough to frown at Pandora.

“It was a worthy battle, but do not take such a foolish risk again.”

“I didn’t think it was foolish,” she protested, some of the color returning to her face.

“But it was,” Worvak said implacably. “If, gods forbid, such a question should arise in the future, ask yourself what I would say.”

He left before she could respond, closing the door firmly behind him. Boxtar put her down long enough to lock the door, then hunted through his discarded packages until he located the one he wanted. He handed her the translator, and when she only looked confused, showed her how to place it in her ear. She shuddered as it slid down her ear canal.

“What is that?”

“A translator. So now we can talk,” he said sternly.

She gave him a startled look. “That’s so strange. I can tell you’re speaking Kaisarian, but the words sound like English in my head.”

“Good. Then you will not misunderstand me.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You already have one of these, don’t you? But you let me think that you didn’t understand what I was saying.”

“I did not understand everything, especially at first. But the translators are designed to adapt and learn.”

“I bet it learned faster than I learned Kaisarian,” she muttered.

“Perhaps, but the translators are only useful for spoken conversation. They will not teach you to read another language.”

She shuddered. “I’d hate to think I couldn’t read.”

It wasn’t the moment, but… He gestured at the bag he’d dropped by the door in his hasty departure.

“I know. That’s why I bought those for you. I thought we could read them together.”

Her eyes widened as she peeked into the bag. “You got all these scrolls for me?”

“They are not as fine as the one we have been reading, but I thought you might like your own collection.”

“My own library,” she murmured, and then her eyes filled with tears. “Dammit. How can I be mad at you when you do such a sweet thing?”

“I don’t want you to be angry with me,” he said sincerely. He took her hand and tugged her away from the scrolls to the seating area in front of the fireplace. He wanted to pull her onto his lap, but he settled for sitting next to her. “But that is not the only thing we need to discuss. Why did you take such a reckless chance?”

“Because you wouldn’t listen to me.”

“I told you we would talk when I returned.”

“You also said you were going to put me on a boat! And ignored me when I said I couldn’t go.”

“I didn’t ignore you.” Did I? “It was never my intention to upset you. I thought you would be happy not to be here when the caravan arrived.”

“But I want to be here!”

“Why?” he forced himself to ask, dreading the answer. “Because of this Quinn? Does he mean that much to you?”

“Yes, she does.”

Quinn was a female. Relief rushed through him so swiftly he felt dizzy. “She? Do you mean another human female? Why didn’t you tell me before?”

“At first it was because I wasn’t sure I could trust you.”

That hurt more than he expected, but he couldn’t really blame her. No matter how good his intentions, he had stolen her from the traders along with their other far less valuable goods.

“Have you changed your mind?” he asked, his voice stiff.

“Yes. I had already decided to tell you when we got here, but you never gave me a chance.”

“I’m sorry.” He gave into his desires and lifted her onto his lap. To his relief, she settled back against him without a protest. “I was anxious to get the goods sold and purchase supplies so that we could sail before the winter storms begin.”

“To sail where?”

“To Sekala. It is an island to the south that will be cut off once winter arrives. The supplies are for the people on the island, and they are desperately needed, but if there is another female at risk…”

He scrubbed his face with his hand as he tried to think of a solution. He could try and send the ship without him, but if he didn’t go then neither would Worvak and that would leave the ship dangerously short-handed.

“I don’t think she’s in danger, exactly,” she said slowly. “At least not while she’s on the trail. The traders didn’t treat us badly. But now she’s alone and she probably thinks the worst has happened to both me and Olivia.”

He hesitated, then decided it was time to mention his plan. “If you think she’s safe with the traders, I have a suggestion.”

“What is it?”

“Come with me to Sekala.” He held up a hand when she started to object. “It should take no more than three days each way, two if the winds are in our favor. We can sail to Sekala, drop the supplies, and return. We will be back before the caravan arrives. We can rescue your friend and spend winter in the city.”

“Is that what you want to do?” she asked, studying his face.

It wouldn’t have been his first preference, but if it meant he could be with her, he would make it work.

“I’m sure it will be fine.”

“Hmm. That sounds like a no.”

“It’s not a no. I want to be with you,” he said firmly.

“I want to be with you too,” she whispered and his heart soared. “And I like your plan. After today, I’m ready to get out of the city for a while. Especially since I have some good news.”

“What’s that?”

“Lord Stalan promised to investigate the caravan when it arrived,” she said happily.

He wished he could share her enthusiasm, but he had no reason to trust Lord Stalan. And it hadn’t escaped his notice that Pandora had only been attacked after she left the mansion. Could Lord Stalan have been behind it?

“That’s excellent news,” he said slowly. He debated telling her about his concerns, but he had no proof and he didn’t want to erase the happiness from her face. When they returned, he had every intention of seeking that audience with the Fleet Commander, but he would send a message before they left and perhaps that would encourage him to investigate.

“When do we sail?” she asked.

“With the morning tide.”

“Then we have the rest of the night. All alone in this room. With that nice, big bed.”

Her fingers skated down his chest, and he almost groaned with pleasure, but there was one more thing he needed to say.

“I want to share that bed with you more than anything,” he said, capturing those tormenting fingers as they reached his belt. “But I need to tell you the truth about me first. And you may change your mind.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

“Are you married? I mean, mated?” Pandora demanded, and Boxtar stared at her in shock.

“Why would you even ask such a thing?”

“You said it might change my mind about sleeping with you. That would be one way to do it.”

“Of course I’m not mated,” he said, then hesitated.

Or am I? He couldn’t deny his feelings for her, even if he had no future to offer her. He pushed the longing aside and concentrated on his confession. In the end, there was no easy way to say it.

“I am not an honorable male. I am a thief.”

“I rather think I figured that out as soon as you started going through the things you stole from the traders—not that I have any sympathy for them.” She studied his face. “But why do you do it? It obviously troubles you.”

“Because I have no choice,” he said bitterly, then sighed. “But I suppose I should begin at the beginning.”

Despite his words, he wasn’t quite sure how to start. She waited patiently, her eyes still fixed on his face.

“I am Balain,” he said at last. “Our planet is mostly ocean, with many islands—most of which do not get along with each other. I was brought up to be a warrior, just as my father and his father before him. It was a pleasant childhood.”

He still remembered it fondly. Hunting in the waters, training with his cousins, listening as the older warriors swapped tales of heroism and honor.

“When I came of age, I was restless to see more of the Empire so I joined a private military company. They hire warriors from many different planets and use them on assignments where the Royal Fleet must remain officially uninvolved.”

He could hear the bitterness in his voice again and did his best to continue in a more neutral manner.

“That’s where I met Worvak. He would say I saved his life, but I was simply in the right place at the right time.” Only chance had enabled him to spot the sniper and thrust Worvak out of the way. The Harkan were hard to kill, but a direct shot to the base of the skull was usually effective. “After that, we always took assignments together, until he had to return to his home for a mating ceremony.”

“He has a mate?” she asked, her eyes widening.

“Not anymore.” Which was also his fault.

“While he was gone, I took another assignment. It was supposed to be a simple job guarding scientists on an uninhabited planet but something went wrong. I’m still not entirely sure why, but I do know that a Kaisarian was involved—a member of the Royal House.” He’d been naïve enough at that point not to wonder. “I was the only member of my unit to survive, and I was shipped offplanet. A week later I was arrested.”

“For what?”

He did his best to keep his face stoic. “For the assault and slaughter of a young female.”

The horror of that accusation still haunted him. He looked over at her, afraid of what he would see on her face. Disgust, perhaps even fear—the same way his family had reacted.

“You didn’t do it,” she said instead.

Shock left him speechless for a moment.

“Why do you say that?”

“We may not have been together that long, but I know you would never do such a thing.”

“Worvak is the only other person to believe that.”

“What about your family?”

He shook his head. “They sent a message to the place where I was being held informing me that I was disowned and no longer welcome on Balain.”

“Then they weren’t your real family,” she said fiercely. “Family sticks by you no matter what. Worvak is your family. I am your family.”

Something eased inside of him—a pain he’d been carrying around so long that he barely even noticed the ache until it was gone.

“Thank you,” he whispered and kissed her.

She kissed him back, without a moment’s hesitation. His arousal flared, but she gently pushed him away.

“What happened then?”

“I was convicted, of course.” He wouldn’t have called it a trial. Although the faked evidence was overwhelmingly against him, he hadn’t even had a chance to speak in own defense. “I was sentenced to life imprisonment on one of the Imperial prison planets. But when I arrived on Folsom, I wasn’t incarcerated in the regular jail. I was condemned to an illegal underground section of the prison.”

Oddly enough, the underground part had been the worst, at least at first. After spending most of his life outside, the damp rock walls and low ceilings, the absence of fresh air and sunlight, had overwhelmed him. He’d actually considered ending his life, but she didn’t need to hear about his misery.

“But then Worvak found me. When he heard what had happened, he renounced his mate, resigned his position, and didn’t stop searching until he found me. He spent most of his savings on bribes and managed to get me out.”

“How?”

“We faked my death. He bribed one of the guards to smuggle in a pill that made it appear that I was dead. My ‘corpse’ was then smuggled on to a transport ship.”

He still shuddered to think of it. So many, many things could have gone wrong, but Worvak had enlisted the right assistants and the plan had worked.

“Thank God for Worvak,” she said emphatically, and he actually found himself smiling.

He had dreaded this moment, but she was far more understanding than he’d dared to hope. But…

“There is one more thing you should know. The Empire still considers me a criminal. We came here to escape them, and it is unlikely that I will ever be able to leave.”

“I don’t understand.”

“If you wish to explore the galaxy, I cannot take you. Not without putting you in danger.”

She laughed. “Oh, Boxtar. I’ve spent my whole life on one planet. A second one is plenty. I like a quiet life. This whole thing started because I wanted to go somewhere quiet and peaceful for my birthday. And in spite of everything that has happened, I still prefer that.”

“You were celebrating the day of your birth?”

“Yes. And it became the first day of a whole new life. Ironic, isn’t it?”

“I wish I had known. I would have brought you presents.”

Her face softened. “You brought me scrolls. I couldn’t have asked for a more perfect gift.”

“There are clothes as well.”

“Hmm. I’m sure I’ll appreciate them—in the morning. But I think now is the time for removing clothes.”

Before he could stop her—not that he would have tried very hard—she sat up and lifted her tunic over her head, her breasts bouncing free as she straddled his lap. He stared at the bountiful mounds, only inches away from his mouth, and felt almost dizzy from excitement.

“This is more like my birthday,” he murmured, cupping her breasts and stroking his thumb across the tight, red nipples. “And this is my perfect present.”

“Maybe you should taste them,” she whispered. “Make sure they’re just right.”

“I have no doubts.”

But despite his assurance, he leaned forward and captured a taut peak in his mouth. Gods, he loved the taste of her. He gently scraped his teeth across the small nub, and she shuddered, the scent of her arousal flooding his senses. Her hips rocked against his, seeking contact with his shaft and he groaned, grasping the generous flesh of her ass and pulling her closer.

“Is that better, little argal?”

“Mmm.”

Even through the two layers of cloth separating them, he could feel the heat of her sweet little cunt, but then she pulled back.

“Bed,” she gasped. “And no clothes.”

“Are you sure?”

“Very sure.”

He had her on the bed almost before she finished talking, then gently worked her pants down her legs, her pale flesh glowing in the soft light. Gods, she was beautiful. He stripped off his own clothes far more impatiently, and then joined her on the bed.

Her eyes were wide, the deep mysterious blue of a midnight ocean, but those perfect red lips smiled at him.

“I want you inside of me.”

His cock jerked so hard he was afraid he would spill his seed, but he remembered her small entrance.

“Soon,” he promised. “Once you are ready.”

“I’m ready now.”

Her cheeks turned pink, but she grabbed his hand and guided it between her legs. Hot and wet, her delicate folds glistening as she parted her sweet thighs. He bent over her, searching for that single responsive papilla, and smiled with satisfaction when he saw the small red nub peeking out at him. He stroked his finger across it and she cried out, her hands clutching his shoulders.

He stroked it again, and then dipped lower, seeking her entrance. As small as he remembered, but when he tested it, his finger slipped inside more easily than he’d anticipated. He added another digit and her hands tightened on his shoulders, but her hips lifted towards him.

“I’m ready,” she said impatiently.

Despite his own urgency, he shook his head.

“Let’s see if you can take another finger first.” Three fingers would be close enough, wouldn’t they?

As he suspected, her body struggled to take the third finger, but he worked her papilla until she softened and stretched enough for him to bury all three fingers inside her. Fek, she was tight. And wet and hot and perfect.

“Now,” she demanded, and he could no longer resist.

He notched his papillae at her entrance, the thick tendrils already stirring, and pushed. There was a momentary resistance and then her body opened to him, that sweet heat surrounding him. His papillae fluttered, the sensations rushing over him. Her body arched, taking more of him, and her small channel tightened almost painfully as more of her heat surrounded the eager tendrils.

When her body finally stopped quivering, her eyes fluttered open.

“That was amazing.”

He was hanging on to his control by a single thread, but he managed to smile at her.

“That was only the beginning.”

His hips snapped forward, his entire cock buried inside her, and her body convulsed as another climax swept over her. He followed her over, his seed erupting inside her, mingling with her essence as his papillae urged it deeper inside her.

He’d never experienced this before, never felt the heat and tasted the sweetness inside a female. It was only supposed to happen with a Balain’s chosen mate, and as his hips began to move, stroking every inch of her sweet, tight channel, he knew that against all odds he had found her.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Pandora stared up at the ceiling, her body still quivering in Boxtar’s arms. She had never known, never even guessed that such a thing was possible. When he entered her, it was as if every single inch of her vagina was being stroked and massaged. Combined with the intense stretch at her entrance and the resulting pressure against her clit, it was as if he had been specifically designed to please a woman.

“Pandora?”

When she couldn’t find the energy to respond, he lifted his head and gave her a worried look.

“Are you all right? Was it too much for you?”

“I’m beyond the capacity for rational thought,” she informed him.

“Is that a bad thing?”

“No. It’s a perfect, wonderful thing.”

He smiled, clearly relieved. “You are the one that is perfect.”

“I know that’s not true, but I don’t have the energy to argue.”

“I’m sorry,” he said.

She opened an eye enough to see if he was serious. He did look concerned, and she lifted a limp arm to pat his cheek.

“Believe me, I’m not complaining. I just need to build up my endurance.” It was the first time that the idea of exercise had ever appealed to her. “And we will have lots and lots of time to practice.”

She expected him to smile back at her, but his brow was still furrowed.

“What’s the matter?” she asked softly.

“I wish I had more to offer you,” he blurted out. “But I cannot give you the things that you deserve.”

“You gave me books, I mean, scrolls. I really don’t need a lot more than that.”

“You deserve the finest clothing, and jewelry, and a suitable residence.”

“First of all, I have no interest in jewelry. As for clothing, I don’t need much more than the clothes Dara found for me—unless you prefer I go naked all the time…”

To her relief, that got his attention, and his eyes began to glow.

“A most enticing prospect,” he agreed, reaching over and circling her nipple with his thumb.

She arched into his touch, her body beginning to respond, even though she would have sworn it was too satiated to react. She hated to spoil the moment, but she did want to know about his last point.

“However, I do agree that we will need some place to live. Do you have a home?”

The worried look returned, and he started to withdraw his hand, but she put her hand over his, keeping it pressed against her breast.

“I have a modest dwelling,” he admitted. “But it is on Sekala. Even if we were not returning to the city for the winter, it would not be an appropriate location for you.”

“I see,” she said thoughtfully, trying to ignore the fact that he was toying with her nipple again. “Does that mean you can’t afford a place here in Almadin?”

He looked vaguely insulted. “Of course I can, but it will be—”

“Let me guess, a modest dwelling?”

A reluctant smile crossed his face, and he nodded.

“I’ve only ever lived in modest dwellings, as you put it. It doesn’t bother me. Unless you’re assuming that you and me and Quinn and Worvak are all going to be in the same room. That would make this type of activity rather difficult.”

She grinned when his hand immediately tightened over her breast.

“That was not my intention,” he admitted.

“If it’s a question of money, I was thinking about that. Maybe I could get a job working in a restaurant?”

“Absolutely not,” he said immediately.

“Why not? You know I can cook.”

“I would worry that it was not a safe environment.”

She suspected that he was not referring to the inevitable dangers posed by heat and sharp implements. After the earlier incident, she couldn’t entirely discount his concern, but neither did she think she was as tempting a target for random males as he seemed to think.

“Perhaps we could find a place run by a female?” she suggested. “Or you could stay with me and keep guard,” she added teasingly when his face lightened again.

“You always have a plan, do you not?”

“I try to. Although I must say that it has been difficult lately.”

His attention to her nipple had grown more persistent, and she squirmed against him.

“I like the idea of you coming to the restaurant with me as my own personal guard. Then you could… relieve my tension whenever I needed a break.”

“A most delightful prospect,” he murmured, his mouth going to the sensitive spot beneath her ear. “Are you in need of some tension relief now?”

He scraped his teeth carefully down her neck, and she gasped.

“Oh, yes. Are you going to take care of me?”

“Always,” he promised, and she just had time to wonder if he realized what he had said before his mouth reached her breast and her ability for rational thought disappeared again.

The night passed far too quickly, and although she got very little sleep, she couldn’t stop smiling as they prepared to leave the inn at an unreasonably early hour of the morning. While Boxtar occupied Venday, Pandora slipped into the kitchen and got Dara’s attention.

“Thank you for helping me yesterday,” she said quietly.

“I heard what happened, and I’m sorry. I should have done a better job of warning you.”

“It wasn’t your fault. I did talk to Lord Stalan, and he said he’d help. We’re going away for a few days, but we’re coming back to the city and I hope we can spend some more time together—away from the inn.”

Dara gave her a shy smile. “I would like that.”

She removed the necklace with the coin from around her neck and handed it to Dara.

Dara’s eyes widened. “I can’t accept that. It’s very old and valuable.”

“Nonsense. I want you to have it.”

She had discussed it with Boxtar, and he had agreed, telling her that it was hers to do with as she wished. She loved the fact that he hadn’t seemed remotely concerned that she was giving a valuable coin to a maid.

“You don’t understand,” the girl insisted. “It’s probably worth several times my contract here.”

“Then use it to pay off your contract if that’s what you’d like to do. Or save it if you’d prefer. It’s yours now.”

She closed Dara’s fingers around the necklace, squeezed her hand, and hurried off before the girl could make any other objections.

They joined the others in the stable yard. Gazar was unusually surly, and she suspected he was hung over. Housen was carrying his own bag of scrolls, and she gave them a speculative look. Maybe he would be open to lending her a few once she had a better grasp of the language. Kahil was busy preparing the animals when Worvak appeared, stalking towards them from the front of the inn.

“All of the supplies have been loaded,” he said. “The ship is ready to sail as soon as we are on board.” Worvak’s eyes went to her. “You appear to have recovered from your foolish incident.”

“I feel just fine,” she said firmly.

“Then we will proceed to the ship. Try not to cause any trouble between now and then.”

Boxtar growled at the comment, but she only laughed and picked up her precious bag of scrolls.

“I’ll do my best.”

They walked back through the passageway and out onto the street running along the harbor. As soon as they left the protected area, the wind caught them, icy cold and smelling of snow. She shivered, and pulled the new cloak that Boxtar had bought her tighter around her body. The wind blew the hood back, but surrounded by Boxtar and his males, she was less concerned about anyone seeing her than about the fact that her ears immediately started to tingle with the cold.

Fortunately, it was not far to the wharf where the ship was docked—a wooden ship with two colorful furled sails. Even at this early hour, the quayside was full of activity, and several people turned to stare at them as Boxtar led her on board. He left her standing at the railing and went to assist Kahil in bringing the mori on board. They were not enthusiastic about the prospect, but Kahil and Boxtar gently encouraged them onto the ship.

Gazar and Housen disappeared below decks and Kahil remained with the mori, but Worvak and Boxtar joined her as the gangplank was hauled back on board and they prepared to set sail. The crew of the ship consisted of the captain and a young male. Both of them were Guulli, their long ringlets tied back in elaborate knots. Ressi, the young sailor, untied the lines holding the ship to the dock and jumped on board. A few minutes later she heard the putt, putt, putt of what was undoubtedly an engine.

“I keep forgetting,” she said to Boxtar as the ship moved smoothly away from the quay.

“Forgetting what?”

“How much access you have to technology here. It’s easy to look at all the wooden ships and think it’s like being back in Earth’s past, but then I hear an engine, just like our current technology. He probably even has a radar. An electronic navigation system,” she added when he looked confused.

“Captain Utaz does have such a system, but it is of limited use. As is much of the technology on this planet.”

“Was it like that on Balain as well?” she asked tentatively, hoping she wasn’t reviving unpleasant memories.

“To a certain extent. I learned how to sail almost before I could walk, and no one would have dared to suggest adding an engine to a sailboat. I remember a group of us paddling around in the waters outside of Kospo, one of our largest cities, and watching the spaceships take off.”

“Why is it like that?” she asked.

“I suspect that part of it is due to the level of development on the planet when representatives of the Empire first arrived. Now they stay away from planets until they achieve spaceflight—or at least that is the official policy—but it was not like that in the past. Much also depends on the planet itself, both what resources it supports and the attitude of the inhabitants towards change. My family—my former family—was very set on clinging to traditional ways.”

“With the notable exception of weaponry,” Worvak added dryly as he came to join them. He had been watching the harbor as they departed.

Boxtar nodded. “As you say, with that exception.”

“My people also had no hesitation in seeking out more advanced weapons,” Worvak said. “Although of course we were trained on all of the traditional weapons as well. But they embraced technology in many areas. To compensate and make sure we do not forget our heritage, Harkan warriors spend at least half of each training year in more… primitive surroundings.”

“Did you enjoy that?” she asked curiously.

“There is a certain satisfaction to be found in pitting oneself against the elements.” He frowned at her. “However, it is not suitable for a female, so do not get any foolish ideas.”

“You have remarkably limited notions about what activities are suitable for females. But in this case, you don’t need to worry. I have no plan to try and test myself against the wilderness. Our journey to the city was enough of a test for me.”

Worvak’s expression turned thoughtful. “There were some advantages to having you along. Have you investigated the galley on this ship?”

“You are not going to make my female cook for you,” Boxtar immediately protested.

She hid a smile at his possessiveness and shrugged. “That depends. Is Captain Utaz any better at cooking than you are?”

“He is much worse,” Worvak assured her.

She shuddered, and an actual smile crossed the big warrior’s face.

“I’m not promising anything, but I’ll consider it.”

Boxtar took her hand. “Let me show you our cabin first.”

Their cabin was small, but it was tucked in the stern of the boat and had a row of windows above the built-in bed. Almost all of the furniture was built-in except for the chair in front of a small desk, and even it could be fastened in place. There was even a row of cubby holes designed to hold scrolls and she carefully placed hers inside them. It didn’t take long to stow their remaining belongings.

“Now what?” she asked.

“Do you wish to rest? I did not permit you much sleep last night.”

The bed did look inviting, covered with a colorful quilt and several large pillows, but she shook her head.

“Not yet. I think I want to see this galley after all.”

“I meant what I said—it’s not your responsibility to cook for us.”

“I don’t mind. I really do enjoy cooking, and even more importantly, I enjoy eating. If Worvak is correct about the captain’s cooking skills being worse than his, I’m not sure I could survive an entire voyage on his food.”

“I wouldn’t say that it’s worse,” Boxtar said cautiously. “But I’m not sure that I would say that it’s better either.”

She laughed. “In that case, definitely show me to the galley.”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

They arrived at Sekala on the morning of the third day. The winds had favored them and they had made excellent time, but she was almost sorry to see the island appear. She had enjoyed the trip immensely. The galley turned out to be minuscule but very efficiently designed, and she’d make it work. Captain Utaz had been clearly suspicious about her desire to cook, but he tasted her first meal—a twist on bouillabaisse—frowned thoughtfully, then nodded.

“That’ll do.”

“Thank you,” she said gravely, ignoring Boxtar’s scowl.

The captain even softened enough to allow her onto the bridge and show her how he used the automated navigation system in conjunction with the more traditional ways. Everyone else was just as receptive to her desire to learn. Ressi taught her—or tried to teach her—how to tie knots. Gazar started to teach her to throw dice, which she did have a knack for, before Boxtar called a halt to the lessons. Kahil showed her how to care for the mori while Housen offered to loan her any of his scrolls which interested her.

Worvak even offered to teach her how to throw a knife. He was a surprisingly patient teacher, but it was another task for which she had no aptitude. He shook his head as he went to retrieve a knife that had somehow ended up in the side of a barrel five feet away from the target.

“I believe the best preparation you can make to ensure your safety is to never leave your male’s side.”

“I have no objection to that,” Boxtar said, smiling. He’d been watching the lesson, as he had most of her lessons whenever it wasn’t his turn on duty.

And of course he had taught her as well. Not only more of the written language, but more about her body and what pleased her and, when she insisted, what pleased him. She loved exploring that big, muscular body and his wonderfully different cock. She especially loved stroking him, her fingers fitting perfectly between those thick ridges. Almost like holding hands, she thought, then smiled. Cock in hand didn’t sound quite as romantic.

“Why are you smiling, little argal?” he asked now. He was standing next to her as they approached Sekala.

“I suppose it’s because I’m happy.”

“I’m glad. I hope nothing occurs to distress you. It will be a brief visit,” he added, more as if he was reminding himself than her.

“I’m sure it will be fine,” she said firmly, turning back to watch the approaching island.

At first all she could see was a forbidding line of steep mountains plunging directly into the sea, but as they followed the curve of the land, a break appeared and she could see into the interior of the island. This side of the mountains was heavily forested before sloping down into a pleasant green valley, forming a protective arc around an almost circular harbor, and she realized that it was an ancient caldera.

“This is beautiful,” she said, and he gave her a quick kiss before going to assist in the treacherous passage between the rocks.

She remained at the railing, watching as they sailed into the harbor and docked in front of the village. It wasn’t at all what she’d expected. She’d pictured a small collection of rundown buildings, perhaps with a crowd of poorly dressed, hungry-looking people eagerly awaiting the boat. Instead, the buildings along the waterfront looked relatively prosperous—not large or fancy but sturdily built. They wouldn’t have looked out of place on the waterfront in Almadin.

And while there was a crowd present, no one seemed particularly interested in their ship. Instead, the majority of the crowd was gathered around two huge purple-skinned males with wicked looking horns who were engaged in a vicious brawl. She saw claws flash and a spurt of purple blood as the crowd cheered. Her stomach rolled, and she hastily looked away.

“Shouldn’t someone try and stop them?” she asked Boxtar as he came back to join her.

“It’s only the Malotti brothers. They fight a lot.” He looked amused, but then he looked down at her and frowned. “This is one of the reasons why I hesitated to bring you here. It is not a civilized place.”

“It doesn’t look that bad,” she protested, looking at the waterfront again. More buildings were scattered behind it and she realized it was a decent size village, maybe even a small town. Behind the village a few fields occupied the lower slopes, although the land quickly turned to forest as it climbed up towards the surrounding mountains.

“And no one looks that desperate,” she added, studying the crowd.

“They’re not, not yet. This is only the beginning of the winter season. The sun is still shining and supplies are plentiful. Many of the ones who end up here have never bothered to think about the future. If they thought about the consequences of their actions, they might have chosen different paths.” He nodded at a male hobbling down the wharf. “Locar was a sailor. He was caught stealing, and the owner of the cargo broke both his legs and threw him overboard.”

“That’s terrible.”

“It’s a miracle that he survived,” he agreed. “And yet, even though the captains of those ships have a reputation for ruthlessness towards thieves, it didn’t prevent him from making the attempt.”

He looked down at where Kahil and another male had started unloading crates of, well, not chickens but some kind of bird.

“This is my second attempt to bring shuvus to the island. Last time, when supplies started running low, a small group of males decided that their present desires were more important than their future hunger, and they slaughtered the shuvus in order to have a feast.”

She nodded. “They wanted the chicken rather than the egg.”

“Exactly. So this time I will take them to my dwelling and post a guard when times become lean.” He hesitated. “I mean, I will arrange to have a guard posted.”

“Are you sure you want to spend the winter in the city?” she asked.

“As long as you are there, I will be satisfied.”

“That’s sweet, but it’s not really an answer.”

Whatever he was about to say, it was buried beneath the roar of the crowd, and she looked over to see one of the brothers holding up a bloodied fist.

“It appears that Rata won this time,” Worvak observed as he joined them.

“Why do they fight like that?”

“Stupidity?” Worvak shook his head. “Perhaps also to establish their superiority. However, they are so evenly matched that there is never a decisive victory.”

There was a squawk from down below, and Boxtar looked over the side of the ship and sighed. “I’d better go check on that. Remain here, Pandora.”

From the look he exchanged with Worvak, she suspected Worvak would make sure she did, but she had no desire to join the loud group of males now congratulating the victor and swigging tankards of ale.

“Do you enjoy spending the winter here, Worvak?”

He shrugged. “It is as good a place as any. I practice my skills and occasionally teach others if they have the discipline. Sometimes, I hunt.” He looked down at her, his face unreadable. “It is not a bad life, although Boxtar deserves far more.”

“Yes, I can see that.” He was on the wharf now, arguing with a male trying to grab a crate of the birds. “Do you think he wants to spend the winter in the city?”

“I do not know,” Worvak said slowly. “He feels a responsibility for this island.”

“Why?”

“In part because we found sanctuary here when we arrived on Maskah.” He frowned at her. “He told you about Folsom, did he not?”

“He did.”

“It was… difficult once he was free. He could not return to the life he once had, but he is not entirely suited to life on the run. We had some troubled years before he accepted that. We came here to avoid that kind of trouble, but we suspected we were being followed.”

“Were you being followed?”

“Oh, yes. There was a bounty on his head.” He grinned fiercely, his fangs flashing. “We eliminated the threat, and then came here to avoid any additional trouble.”

Her heart ached as she looked down at Boxtar again. The argument had ended, and he was slapping the other male on the shoulder.

“Are they still after him?”

Worvak shrugged. “If you mean does the bounty still exist, it is possible. But no one else has ever appeared on Maskah, and the male who was originally responsible for his incarceration is dead.”

“Does that mean he could leave the planet?”

“He is still an escaped prisoner. And with that male dead, I do not believe there is any way to establish his innocence.” Worvak shrugged again. “He has been more content on this voyage than I have ever seen him. I do not think it will trouble him as long as the two of you remain together.”

Was there a question in his voice?

“I have no intention of leaving him,” she said firmly. “But I will not abandon my friends.”

“That is the honorable path,” the big warrior agreed.

“You said that he felt responsible in part because you took refuge here. What else did you mean?”

“It is his nature—to protect, to lead. He would deny it. He believes that part of him was destroyed in prison, but he is wrong.”

Remembering his interactions with his males on their journey and now watching him below as he laughed with Kahil, she agreed with Worvak. She leaned over the railing and waved at Boxtar. He looked up and grinned—just before a tall blue-skinned female rushed over to him and threw her arms around his neck.

What the fuck? She didn’t usually swear, but the circumstances seemed to call for it.

“Who the hell is that?”

Only the fact that Boxtar seemed to be trying to disengage himself stopped her from stomping down to the wharf and tearing the other female’s hair out. Or trying to, she amended, looking at the female’s slender athletic build and the array of weapons around her waist.

Worvak sighed. “They call her Lady Jay. Although she is not actually royalty,” he added.

“Are they… I mean, were they together?”

“I do not believe so.”

Given how close a watch he kept over Boxtar, she found some comfort in that. But she didn’t like the fact that the female was still far too close to Boxtar, her hand on his arm as she talked excitedly.

“However, she has expressed her interest,” Worvak added, just as the female froze.

Lady Jay turned and looked up at the ship, her eyes immediately going to Pandora’s face. A shiver went down her spine. If looks could kill, she had no doubt that she would be dead at this very moment.

“You would do well to avoid her,” Worvak said unnecessarily.

“That sounds like an excellent idea. But aren’t we leaving right away anyway?”

“We will have to wait until the tides changes.” Worvak frowned up at the sky. “I do not like the look of those clouds. Hopefully the weather will hold off.”

“How long will we have to wait for the tide?”

“Until the evening. I have no doubt that Boxtar intends to make use of that time,” he added dryly.

She followed his gaze and saw that Boxtar was returning to the ship, leaving the female on the wharf. Her hands were on her slim hips as she glared up at Pandora. She shivered again before she deliberately turned her back on the other female and went to meet Boxtar.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

“Come,” Boxtar said as they disembarked. “I want to show you my house.”

She took his hand and followed him through the village, looking around curiously. Her favorable impression remained. The buildings were mainly comprised of wood or stone, and the majority of them appeared neat and well kept. Because of the unified materials, the village had a more harmonious feeling than the city. It wasn’t until they were climbing up a small hill leading out of the village that she realized something odd.

“Aren’t there any females here? Other than your Lady Jay,” she added tartly.

“She is not my anything, little argal, so pull in your claws. And yes, there are other females here. But far fewer than there are males.”

“Who are they? Are they being hunted as well?”

He shrugged. “A few of them. Others are here because their mates are here. And some are here to earn a living.”

“Why do I suspect that you don’t mean they’re taking in laundry?” she asked dryly, and he laughed.

“You are correct as always. There is a brothel at the far end of the waterfront. Does that bother you?”

“No, I suppose not. As long as the females are there by choice.”

“Of course they are.”

“Does Lady Jay work there?” she asked, knowing she was being catty.

He shook his head, but she saw his lips quirk. “No. She runs a boat.”

“A fishing boat?”

He shrugged again. “In the wintertime. Only the waters directly around the island are accessible then.”

“And in the summer?”

“She is a pirate.”

“I should’ve known,” she muttered, but didn’t ask any more questions, saving her breath for the climb.

Just as she was beginning to wonder how much farther they were going, they turned a corner and Boxtar opened the gate in a stone wall and led her through it. They passed an area clearly designed for animals, then went through an archway and emerged on a long stone patio. An equally long, low stone building opened onto the patio, and she stared at it in surprise.

“This is your house? I thought you said you had nothing.”

“It is a very modest dwelling,” he assured her. “It looks bigger than it is because it’s only one room wide.” He led her through a set of wide doors into a large stone-floored kitchen with a big wooden table in the center.

“This room was the original building. I have added onto it since then.” He pointed to one side. “Worvak’s quarters are through there.”

Somehow, she wasn’t surprised to find that Worvak lived there as well, but…

“Does the rest of your band live here?”

“No. Gazar has a room above the tavern. He says he likes the noise. Housen has a small office with rooms above it.”

“Why does he need an office?”

“He was a medic once, and the people here go to him when they need medical assistance.”

She nodded thoughtfully. She could picture the studious male as a doctor.

“And Kahil?”

“He also lives here, but not in the house. He has rooms above the stables at the back of the property where the mori are kept.”

That also did not surprise her, given the young male’s affinity for animals.

“Now come and see the rest.”

A large living room was next, the same size as the kitchen with a big stone fireplace and comfortable-looking furniture. The next room was long and narrow with windows on either end. A desk sat in front of the one overlooking the village, while an overstuffed armchair sat next to the other window. The longer walls were lined with cubby holes. It took her a moment to realize that they were filled with scrolls, and she squealed with pleasure.

“It’s a library.”

He laughed at her excitement. “It is. I have a datapad, of course, but there is no way to add additional information once we are here. And power can be problematic, especially during the storms.”

“I don’t care. I love it.”

“Then it is yours—for as long as we’re here,” he added quickly. “I know we cannot stay, but perhaps we can find a place with a similar room in Almadin.”

“Maybe,” she agreed, still looking around the library. If only we didn’t have to go back, she thought, and then immediately felt guilty. Even though she was already envisioning cozy evenings here, her duty was to her friends.

“Do you want to see the rest of the house?” he asked, his voice teasing. “Or would you rather just stay here?”

“I guess I would like to see the rest,” she admitted, and let him lead her out of the library.

The next room was a large bathroom, and she was delighted to see it had what looked like modern plumbing. A big tub stood in front of another window looking out over the valley and harbor below. The final room was the bedroom, which had windows on all three sides, showcasing views not only of the harbor but of the wooded slopes leading up to the ring of mountains that circled the island.

It’s a little bare, but a nice rug and some colorful cushions would go a long way, she thought before she reined in her plans. They wouldn’t be here long enough for that. But perhaps they should come back in the spring.

“And you built all this yourself?”

“Not all of it. As I said, the kitchen building was here originally, although it had started to crumble. A lot of the outbuildings were also here. But I built the rest, with some help from my males.”

“Even Worvak?”

He laughed and shook his head. “He doesn’t mind moving rocks around, but he’s never quite grasped the principle behind building a stone wall.” He shrugged. “There’s really not a lot else to do around here in the wintertime. There is a warm current that flows up the far side of the island, so we don’t get a lot of snow and we can be outside most days.”

She put her arms around him, loving the way he immediately tugged her closer.

“Worvak said we would be sailing with the evening tide, right?”

“That’s the plan.” He cast a worried look out through the windows. “As long as the storm holds off. It’s coming from the south, so as long as we can set sail before it gets here, we should be safe enough on the return.”

“Then I’d like to spend the afternoon living in your house. I know we won’t be here for very long, but I think it will be fun.”

“Are you sure? We could explore the village, or have a meal that you did not have to prepare.”

“Another time,” she whispered, her hand going to his cock. Despite his protests, he was already hard and ready.

She unfastened his pants and slipped her hand inside, delighted at the way his papillae stirred at her touch. She led him over to the bed, pulling off his pants as he sat, then kneeled in front of him.

He gave her a puzzled look. “What are you doing—oh, fek.”

He shuddered as she licked a long, wet stripe up one of his ridges, then swirled her tongue around his head. His papillae quivered, already starting to unfurl and she almost hesitated, but she wanted to please him. She licked him again, delighted to find that he tasted like his sweet spicy scent. And then she carefully closed her mouth over the tip. The tendrils quivered and then unfurled, stroking the inside of her mouth and wrapping around her tongue, the sensation almost as exciting as it was inside her vagina. Why had she waited so long to try this?

“Fuck, you taste good,” he muttered, burying his fingers in her hair.

So delightfully strange that he was tasting her at the same time that she was tasting him. Since he wasn’t built the same as a human male, she wasn’t sure what he would like, but she tried a gentle suck and he groaned with pleasure.

Not so different after all, she thought smugly, and started to explore, licking and sucking and even scraping her teeth lightly over his ridges. He loved everything, urging her on as she took more and more of him, as little drops of sweetness hit her tongue, as his muscles tightened, as he finally roared with pleasure and he exploded in her mouth. She eagerly gulped down the sweet, sweet liquid before giving him a few final soothing licks. Then she sat back on her heels and grinned up at him.

“You are the perfect female,” he said solemnly.

“I suspect all men say that after a blow job,” she teased him.

“Perfect,” he repeated firmly, lifting her up on the bed before she even saw him move. “And now it is my turn to explore every perfect inch.”

He kept his promise.

A long time later, she watched sleepily as he stood and stretched. Lord, he looked good naked, the texture of his golden skin accentuating all those rippling muscles.

“Do you have to go?”

“I promised Worvak that I would go over the list once everything was unloaded and verify where everything is to be stored.”

“I could come with you.”

“There’s no need. Stay here and rest, or take a bath. I will return as soon as possible. Would you like to try having a meal at one of the taverns before we set sail?”

She found herself unexpectedly reluctant to leave his house. If it hadn’t been for the storm they kept talking about or her concerns about Quinn, she would have suggested that they stay at least another day.

“If we have time, why don’t I cook something here? It will be nice to have a big kitchen to work in after that tiny little galley on the ship.”

“We should have time if that’s what you would prefer. I’ll check and see if I need to pick up supplies.” Now unfortunately dressed, he walked back to the bed and smiled down at her. “Although considering you made a delicious meal out of travel jerky and grain, I’m sure you could rise to the occasion.”

“If I had to,” she agreed. “But some fresh food would be a nice change as well.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” he promised, kissed her, and hurried off.

The house was quiet, the bedroom bright and warm, but although she had intended to take a nap, sleep eluded her. She sat up and scowled at the sunlight pouring in through the uncovered windows. There was a line of clouds on the horizon, but it seemed impossible to believe that a storm was on the way. However, Worvak and Boxtar had far more experience, and she had to trust their assessment of the weather. She sighed and decided to get up.

The water in the shower was cold, so she settled for a quick wash before she pulled her clothes back on and headed to the kitchen to explore. The cupboards were not bare, but they only contained the type of supplies designed to last a long time—dried grains and beans and slightly withered root vegetables. She was staring at the vegetables thoughtfully, trying to decide if it was worth putting some on to boil, when a shadow fell over the room.

A chill went down her spine, and she looked over at the windows. The line of clouds was much closer now, the edge of the band beginning to cover the sun. Perhaps they should plan on returning to the boat as soon as Boxtar came back. With a sigh, she returned the vegetables to storage.

“My, my. Don’t you look domestic?”

The cool voice sent another shiver down her spine, and she turned to find Lady Jay standing in the open doorway.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Pandora’s heart thudded against her ribs as she looked at the female in the doorway, as slim and beautiful—and deadly—as a sword.

“If you’re looking for Boxtar, he isn’t here.” Her voice sounded much calmer than she felt.

“Oh, I know that. I wasn’t looking for him. I came to speak to you.”

The other female strolled gracefully into the kitchen, dropping a small bag onto the table. When Pandora gave it a nervous look, Lady Jay laughed. “Don’t worry. It’s not a bomb. It’s more of a… peace offering.”

“What do you mean?” she asked.

The other female shrugged. “Boxtar told me you were his mate.”

“He did?” A warm glow of happiness curled around her heart. He’d never actually said the words out loud, although he certainly acted as if they were mated.

“He did. And since you are going to be a more permanent resident on our island, I thought this was an appropriate gift.”

Lady Jay reached into the bag and pulled out what looked almost exactly like an apple, the red and green skin gleaming softly as a delicious fragrance filled the room.

“What is that?”

“We call it an alman. As far as we know, Sekala is the only place where they grow. That’s why I thought it would be appropriate.”

What a nice idea. She relaxed and smiled at Lady Jay.

“That’s very kind of you. I like fruit.”

The other female’s eyes drifted down over her body, and she raised an eyebrow. “I thought you might.”

The words could have been intended to be disparaging, but Pandora thought that the other woman actually seemed envious.

“Would you like to sit down? I found something that I think is tea if you’d like a cup.”

“Tea?” Lady Jay gave her what seemed like a genuine smile. “That would certainly be a first, but why not?”

She had located the kettle and mugs during her previous explorations, and it didn’t take long to brew the tea. Lady Jay gave her mug a fascinated glance, then took a cautious sip.

“What do you think?”

Lady Jay shrugged. “It will never replace ale, but it is not horrible.”

Pandora laughed and took her own sip. Definitely not bad.

“You are very attractive,” the other female said suddenly.

She wasn’t quite sure how to respond. “Umm, thank you? So are you,” she added sincerely.

“So I have been told. And yet Boxtar prefers you.”

“I’m sorry if that upsets you, but I must admit it makes me very happy.”

Lady Jay laughed and took another sip of tea. The delicious fragrance of the alman still filled the kitchen, and Pandora reached for it.

“You don’t have to eat it now,” Lady Jay said quickly, and Pandora smiled at her.

“I don’t mind. It was a very thoughtful gift.”

She took a big bite, then sighed with pleasure. How long had it been since she’d had anything fresh to eat?

“It might upset your stomach if you’re not used to it,” Lady Jay said.

“Don’t be silly. Fruit never hurt anyone.”

She took a few more bites, then decided to save the rest for Boxtar, putting it on a plate and covering it carefully.

As she returned to the table, she swayed a little and gave Lady Jay an apologetic smile.

“I’m sorry. I don’t think I have quite regained my land legs yet. Although I suppose it doesn’t matter since we’re sailing again tonight.”

“You’re sailing tonight?” Lady Jay looked oddly horrified.

“Yes, didn’t Boxtar tell you?”

“No. He just said he was bringing his mate home. I thought you were going to be here all winter.”

“Bringing his mate home,” she repeated, her voice sounding slow and thick in her own ears. “That’s so nice.”

The room seemed to tilt beneath her chair, and she slumped forward over the table as her eyes grew heavy.

“Just going to take a little nap,” she mumbled.

“Oh, fuck. What have I done?”

She tried to respond to Lady Jay’s question, but her mouth didn’t seem to want to work. Then she heard a new voice, a male voice, but she couldn’t turn her head to see who it was.

“Well? Is it done?”

“She’s unconscious, but I changed my mind.”

“What do you mean you changed your mind? We had a deal.”

“They aren’t staying. They are sailing again tonight. I didn’t need to drug her after all.”

Drug me? The words dripped slowly into her cloudy mind.

“You still owe me.”

“Fine,” Lady Jay snapped. “Come by the boat tomorrow and I’ll pay you.”

“That wasn’t how you promised to pay.”

Lady Jay laughed, the sound scornful enough to penetrate Pandora’s dazed state.

“I never said anything of the sort, Durva, and you know it. You are not my type.” There was a harsh crack, and then the thud of something hitting the ground.

“You’re not my type either,” Durva growled. “Especially when I can have a female with real tits all to myself.”

Hands dug painfully into her sides as she was yanked out of her chair and flung onto the table on her back. Her eyes were still partially open, open enough to see the leering face of a strange alien. He looked like one of the horned purple-skinned males who had been fighting on the dock, but she didn’t think he was actually either of them.

He wasn’t returning her inspection. Instead, his gaze was focused on her breasts. He licked his lips and ripped her tunic open, then grabbed her, his fingers tightening even more painfully on the soft mounds. A muffled attempt at a protest escaped her lips, and he looked up at her face.

“Still conscious? Good. That’s going to make this a lot more interesting.” He squeezed her again, then scowled at the open door. “Interesting enough to last a while, and I don’t want to be interrupted. You’d better come with me.”

She tried to protest, but her vocal cords refused to obey and she doubted he would have listened anyway. He picked her up, threw her carelessly over his shoulder, and headed for the door. As he did, she saw Lady Jay crumpled on the floor, a pool of blood spreading from beneath her head.

Oh no. They had to get her help.

Once again, she tried to speak, but he only shoved her further up his shoulder. The hard muscle pressed painfully into her stomach, finally pushing her over the edge into unconsciousness.

When she woke up, she was lying on a hard surface, her body crumpled in an awkward position. Her limbs still felt heavy and lethargic, but fortunately, her head was back to normal and she could think clearly again.

Remembering Durva’s threats, she cautiously opened one eye a fraction. The decrepit surroundings were more like what she had envisioned when Boxtar had talked about his humble home. The building was little more than a shack, gaps clearly visible between the wide vertical planks that made up the walls. There was a dim yellowish light coming from somewhere behind her, but none of the walls she could see had windows. Even in the dimness, she could see piles of assorted junk, most of it thick with cobwebs and dust, but there was no sign of her captor.

She couldn’t hear anything, but she doubted he had gone far. Was he behind her somewhere? She held her breath, listening for the sound of breathing, but there was nothing. If he wasn’t in the shack, maybe she could sneak away from him. I need a plan, she thought, checking her surroundings again. The cracks in the walls were too small to slip through, but the boards themselves were surprisingly wide. If she could pry one of them aside, she thought she could get through the opening.

It would have been nice to know what was waiting for her outside, but she wasn’t going to let that stop her. She opened her eyes all the way, but there was still no sign of Durva within her limited range of vision. Moving as slowly and quietly as she could, she began to shift the angle of her body towards the light source behind her. She did her best to make it look as if she hadn’t moved at all as she slowly adjusted her position until she could see that the light entering the room was coming in through an open doorway.

Durva was sitting in a crooked chair just outside the door, and her heart started to pound against her ribs. She’d guessed he was there, but seeing how close he was only made her more desperate to escape.

The sickly yellow tinge of the light was reflected in the sky, and she gave it a worried look. The last time she had seen that kind of color, it had presaged a tornado. Worry about that later. The shack must have been high on one of the mountain slopes because she could see out over the harbor to the sea beyond. Even from here, she could see the white caps on the surface of the water. The sky loomed ominously over the island, heavy grey clouds rolling towards them. The storm was almost here, and she had to get away from Durva before it hit.

Afraid to stand and attract his attention, she reached behind her and gave one of the boards a tentative push. It made a faint squeaking protest, and she froze, but Durva didn’t move. The board, on the other hand, had definitely moved. She grabbed hold of the edge of it again, pulling it towards her this time, and she managed to pry it several inches away from the rest of the wall. She kept her eyes on Durva as she tugged again, harder this time.

Her heart sank as she saw him raise a bottle to his mouth. He’d been vicious enough sober; she dreaded to think what he would be like when he was drunk. Just concentrate on getting away.

Thunder rolled across the valley, and she took advantage of the sound to yank as hard as she could on the board. The bottom came away completely, and she tightened her grip, praying it wouldn’t fall on her. The top remained attached, and the board settled back in place when she released it.

Durva raised the bottle again, and she saw that it was almost empty. She was running out of time. Still keeping her eyes on him, she slipped cautiously off the bed platform. A cold breeze wafted across her chest, and she looked down, remembering for the first time that he had torn her tunic. From the red marks on her skin, he must have molested her again after he brought her here. The thought made her feel sick, but she was still wearing her pants so at least he hadn’t gone any further.

Because he’s waiting for me to wake up.

Terror urged her on, and she lifted the bottom of the board away from the wall and started wiggling through the gap. It was a tight squeeze, the rough edges tearing at her skin, and she heard her top rip even more, but the thunder was sounding almost continuously now. There was no reaction from the front of the shack so she kept going. With a last desperate heave, she tumbled through the gap.

She landed to one side of the shack rather than behind it, and she realized immediately that there wasn’t a lot of cover. As much as she wanted to head down into the valley and find Boxtar, she’d be clearly visible on the grassy slope. She decided her best bet was to make it to the tree line and get as far away from the shack as she could before she headed back down.

Keeping low to the ground, she headed for the trees, thankful that her legs seem to be working properly now. She was halfway there when she heard an outraged bellow from behind her. She abandoned any attempts at stealth and ran, hoping to lose him amongst the trees. She didn’t look back, even though she could hear him coming, yelling obscenities at her.

“Want to play games, do you, you fucking bitch? You’re going to regret that when I catch you.”

She reached the trees and darted behind the largest one she could find, finally daring to look back. Durva was staggering across the meadow, his face purple with rage as he shook his big fist in her direction.

“You’re not gonna get away from me, you—”

He didn’t finish the sentence. A big gold figure slammed into him with a ferocious growl, knocking Durva to the ground.

Boxtar. Thank God.

Durva tried to recover, starting to stumble to his feet, but even though he was bigger than Boxtar, he never stood a chance. An outraged bellow became an agonized cry and then a sickly gurgle, and finally Durva went limp. Boxtar leaped to his feet, scanning the trees looking for her.

“Pandora!” he roared.

“Here I am!” She raced towards him as his head swung in her direction, and then she was in his arms, laughing and sobbing at the same time.

“You found me.”

“I will always find you. I love you.”

That made her sob even harder.

“I love you too.” She finally noticed that his mouth was red with blood. “Oh my God, you’re hurt.”

“Not me,” he said grimly, and she realized that he must have used those deadly teeth of his on Durva. Good, she thought fiercely. He’d deserved it.

A sudden gust of wind swirled around them, almost knocking them both to the ground, immediately followed by stinging pellets of frozen rain.

“We have to take shelter,” he said grimly, heading back to the shack. “Unfortunately, this is the closest place.”

They passed Durva’s body, and even though Boxtar tried to shield her, she saw the bloodied remains. Durva’s throat had been torn out. She gulped, clinging even tighter to Boxtar. He had done it to protect her, and she knew he would never hurt her.

They were almost to the shack when another blast of wind whirled across the valley. This one tore the roof off the shack.

Boxtar swore and picked her up, using his body to shelter her as he began to run.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Boxtar raced for the tree line as the hail increased in size. They didn’t have time to make it back to the village, but although the trees would provide some shelter, they wouldn’t completely block the wind and hail and they would still be at risk from flying limbs. The pellets pounded down on his unprotected back, and from the occasional sharp sting and fleeting warmth, he suspected he was bleeding, but it didn’t matter. All that mattered was that he had found Pandora.

He had been on his way back to the house when Lady Jay came staggering down the path, blood streaming down her face.

“What the hell happened to you?”

“I made a mistake, a terrible mistake. And now Durva has your female.”

Dread turned the blood in his veins to ice. The big male was useful enough when a job called for brute strength, but his reputation with females was so bad that even the brothel wouldn’t allow him to enter.

“What do you mean he has her?”

She didn’t meet his gaze. “I planned to drug her and take her away from the island. But apparently Durva had other ideas.”

Drug her? He wanted to demand more details, but it would have to wait. The most important thing right now was finding Pandora.

“Where is he? Where would he take her? To his rooms?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think he’d go there, but he has that old shack, up on the slopes of the South Ridge. He might have gone there.”

“Find Worvak,” he ordered. “Have him begin a search, starting with Durva’s rooms. I’ll go to the shack.”

“But what about the storm?” she called after him.

“I don’t give a fuck about the storm!” he yelled as he raced towards the South Ridge.

But now that he’d found Pandora and she was exposed to the storm, he did give a fuck. The trees around them whipped back and forth, bending almost double. They wouldn’t provide enough protection, and he could only think of one possible alternative. Gritting his teeth, he raced for the rock escarpment that flanked the trees.

As he ran, he peered through the increasing downpour, trying to spot some kind of shelter. The only thing he could see was a slight fold in the rock face. It wasn’t much, but it might be enough to at least protect them from the wind and any flying debris. The small crevice between the rocks went back further than he realized before ending in a narrow tunnel into the stone.

His hands shook as he stared at it, but it offered the protection that Pandora needed. He forced himself to carry her into the narrow slit, taking one step and then another, each one like moving through quicksand, until they were far enough inside that the wind and rain couldn’t penetrate.

“Oh, thank goodness we’re out of that storm.” She wiggled in his arms. “It’s all right. You can put me down now.”

“I don’t think I can.” His voice sounded muffled and distant in his ears.

“What do you mean you can’t? Oh. Is it because of the cave?” she asked gently.

He nodded, still unable to speak. She stopped trying to climb down. Instead, she wrapped her arms and legs around him, clinging tightly as she pressed a line of kisses down his neck and across his jaw until she reached his mouth.

He knew the rain had washed away the blood, but he still didn’t want her kissing a mouth that had done so much damage. He turned his head away, and her body went still.

“Why don’t you want me to kiss you? Is it because of Durva? Because he… touched me?”

The question penetrated his anxiety enough that he growled.

“Of course not. But I used my mouth to destroy. You should not be kissing me there.”

“Nonsense. You used your mouth to protect me.”

She placed her small hands on his cheeks and turned his head back towards her, and then she kissed him directly on his mouth. Something relaxed inside of him, and some of the tension drained from his body despite the circumstances.

“Fek, I love you,” he said when she finally raised her head.

“I know. You told me.”

“And you said you love me too.”

“I do. And now that we know we love each other, there will be no more talk about how you have nothing to offer me.”

Her voice was light, but he could hear the underlying sincerity. He wanted to agree with her, but…

“I don’t have anything to offer you.”

“Don’t be silly. Aside from your extremely sexy body, your powerful natural weapons, and your amazing cock, you also have a beautiful house. With a library.”

“A library is important,” he agreed, smiling despite himself. “But it’s on an isolated island full of thugs.”

“It’s on a beautiful island, and I’m sure the people will be very friendly once I get to know them. If they’re not, I’ll just send you to visit them. And maybe Worvak.”

He actually laughed. “I don’t need Worvak to protect you.”

“I know you don’t,” she said softly and kissed him again.

In spite of the surroundings, he found his body responding. And she felt it too, wiggling against his cock.

“I think developing a hard-on is a good sign that you’re overcoming your dislike of enclosed places,” she said.

“I think you’re right.”

And it was true. He was no longer as conscious of the walls closing in on him, of the damp smell of the stone. He was far more aware of the soft body cradled in his arms and her sweet fragrance filling his head.

“Maybe we should sit down,” she suggested. “Is there room?”

His eyes had adjusted to the dim light, and he nodded. The tunnel had opened up more than he realized in his first panic and there was room not only for him to sit, but to spread his legs out in front of him. He kept Pandora on his lap and she didn’t object, just snuggled closer.

Now that he was feeling a little bit more rational, he returned to what she’d said.

“You said Durva touched you. Did he hurt you?” he asked. Despite his attempt to sound gentle, it came out as a growl.

“Not really. I remember him grabbing me just before I passed out. And I think he did it again while I was unconscious. But that was all.”

That was all? He wished he could go back and kill that bastard all over again.

“Lady Jay said something about drugging you? Is that why you lost consciousness?”

“It is. But how did you know about that?”

“Because she’s the one who came to find me.”

She actually gave a sigh of relief. “That’s good. Durva hit her, and I was afraid she was dead.”

“But she drugged you.” He couldn’t get past that point.

“I know. But I don’t think she wanted to hurt me. She was just planning to ship me off the island. When she found out that we were leaving anyway, I think she tried to warn me, but it was too late. I’d already eaten the poisoned apple.”

“Apple?”

“That’s what we call it on Earth. I think you call it an alman.”

“I see. At least I see how she did it, but I’m still not sure I understand why.”

“Because she’s in love with you, you idiot. She couldn’t stand the idea of spending the whole winter watching us together.”

“I was never interested in her,” he assured her.

“I know. And the fact that I know you love me makes it easier for me to sympathize with her.”

“I am not so forgiving,” he said grimly.

“Oh, I don’t know. A little time and a few more blow jobs, and I’m sure you’ll be in a much more forgiving mood.”

She laughed as his cock jerked against her.

“Nothing gets you down for long, does it?”

“Not when I have my perfect, beautiful mate in my arms.”

She wiggled a little closer.

“How do you feel about sex in a cave with your beautiful, perfect mate?”

“I think it is the perfect remedy for a fear of enclosed places,” he said solemnly.

“Then I am delighted to be your therapist.”

And by the time the storm finally stopped, his fear of enclosed places had been completely forgotten.

The winds died down just before daybreak the next morning, but Boxtar insisted that they wait until daylight before leaving their shelter. Pandora didn’t object. It had been a surprisingly cozy place to ride out the storm. The rain had never reached them, and his arms kept her warm and safe.

Snuggling against him as the first light began to penetrate into the cave, she gave the walls a thoughtful look.

“Do you know what a caldera is?”

“The word doesn’t translate.”

“It’s the structure created when a volcano erupts and then the center collapses.”

“I see. That would explain the shape of the island.”

“Exactly. And because of the volcanic activity, a lot of them contain deposits of valuable metals. Or at least they do back on Earth. If it’s the same here, maybe you wouldn’t need to steal to buy supplies.”

His body turned to stone, and she was suddenly afraid that he’d misunderstood.

“Not that I mind you stealing,” she said quickly. “At least as long as you’re only stealing from bastards like the traders, but I don’t want you to get hurt and—”

“Stop talking,” he growled, and kissed her so hard she had no choice but to obey.

He fumbled between her legs, his hands desperate as he yanked her pants down and notched his cock at her entrance, surging into her without his usual careful preparation. The overwhelming stretch made her gasp into his mouth, her body quivering on the edge of pain, but then his papillae swirled inside her channel and the stretch melted into equally overwhelming pleasure.

Her climax crashed over her before he even started to move and never seemed to stop, pleasure building with every hard plunge of his body until a rush of liquid heat made her come again so hard she actually saw stars.

She gradually floated back down, realizing that he was gently stroking her back and murmuring soft words of praise in her ear in between sweet, tickling kisses.

“I guess you like that plan.”

“I never thought I’d have a choice. I can’t tell you how happy it makes me to think there is an option which would allow you to be proud of me.”

“I am already proud of you. I love the way you care for others. Not just me, or even just your males, but the entire island. You are a good male, Boxtar. Nothing will ever make me feel differently.”

His arms tightened around her, but he didn’t speak.

“And it was pretty clear how happy you were,” she added, teasing him gently.

He snorted and sat up, still cradling her.

“I need to find Worvak and let him know about the ingenious plan my perfect mate has developed.”

“It’s not a guarantee,” she warned him. “And if there are ore deposits, they might be hard to find.”

“It is a chance, and right now that is enough.”

They emerged from the cavern to find damage everywhere, partially obscured by a dusting of snow and the icy remnants of the hail.

“We were lucky,” he said.

“Lucky?”

“It’s mainly just loose debris that’s been blown around. Some trees are down, but mostly ones that were old or in ill health. And the snow will melt quickly, but…” He took her hands in his. “I’m sorry, little argal, but I don’t believe we will be able to return to Almadin after all.”

“Why not? You said the snow would melt quickly.”

“Look out there in the channel. Do you see those areas of white?”

“Yes, but I can’t tell what they are.”

“Ice floes. I had hoped we would have more time, but once they appear, they make travel by ship too dangerous.”

A lump appeared in her throat. Quinn, she thought despairingly.

“I should not have brought you here,” he muttered.

“Stop that. I agreed to come. Neither one of us expected someone like Durva to kidnap me—”

“I should have known.”

“—or knew that the storm would hit so quickly. It’s not your fault, Boxtar.” She put her arms around his waist and hugged him until his body relaxed. “I just have to hope that Lord Stalan lives up to his word and intercepts the caravan.”

He nodded, then admitted, “I also sent word to the Fleet Commander.”

“You did? I thought you didn’t trust the Fleet?”

He shook his head. “It’s not the Fleet itself—they serve an important purpose. I just do not like the way that some of their officials take advantage of their position. However, by all accounts, the present Maskah commander is an honorable male.”

“Then we have two authorities on the lookout for her. I’m sure she’ll be okay.”

She realized she was mainly trying to convince herself, but all she could do was have faith in her friend. She knew that Quinn was smart and kind and much stronger than she appeared. Her deceptive air of vulnerability might sometimes attract the wrong type of male, but it also attracted those who wanted to protect her. Maybe even this commander Boxtar had mentioned.

They walked silently down the hill and through the grove of trees behind his house. The ground was littered with alman fruit, blown to the ground by the storm. She stopped and gave the fruit a thoughtful look.

“You said supplies can run short over the winter, didn’t you?”

“Yes, but don’t worry. You will lack for nothing.”

“I wasn’t worried—I know you’ll take care of me. I was thinking about the fruit. There’s a lot of it here.”

“Unfortunately, it spoils quickly once it falls.”

“Haven’t you people ever heard of preserves?” She laughed at his blank look. “Never mind. I’ll teach you.”

They walked into his house, through the big stone kitchen and into the living room with the wide windows overlooking the village below. She could see people cleaning up after the storm and a few missing roof tiles, but there didn’t appear to be any major damage.

“So we are spending the winter here after all,” she said slowly.

“Yes. Do you mind?”

“Honestly? No. Of course I’m worried about Quinn, and even about Olivia, but I feel… comfortable here. Do you mind?”

“No. It’s very different from where I grew up, but the island and the ocean remind me of Balain and some of my happier memories.”

She studied his face, but he looked sincere and… peaceful. Much more at peace than he’d been in the city.

“Good.” She leaned into him. “And we’ll just have to add to those happy memories.”

“What did you have in mind?” he growled, his eyes beginning to glow.

“If you can get the hot water working, I have some plans for that big shower of yours…”

A familiar footstep stomped down the hall, and then Worvak appeared.

“You are both safe,” he said, scowling.

“We are. We took shelter in a cave along the South Ridge.”

“And Durva?”

“Dead.”

“Good.”

“You don’t seem very happy to see us,” she said, smiling at him.

“I am relieved, of course, but you should not have been so foolish as to accept a gift from that female. And Boxtar, you should not have been so foolish as to go after your female without waiting for me.”

She shook her head. “According to you, the entire world is foolish.”

“It is.”

When they both laughed, a reluctant smile crossed Worvak’s face.

“There will be more visitors before long. Since you have been through an ordeal, would you like me to cook for them?”

“No!” she said quickly. “But if you could just give us a moment?”

Worvak looked from her face to Boxtar’s, snorted, and walked out.

“You do not have to cook, little argal.”

“I don’t mind. I enjoy feeding people. But before I do, I just wanted to tell you again that I love you and you don’t need to worry. I’m happy to spend the winter in your home with you.”

“Our home. I love you too.”

He bent down to kiss her, and she sighed happily. A comfortable home—with a library—a sexy mate, and by the sounds of it, a village full of people to feed. She couldn’t be happier.

EPILOGUE

Five months later…

Pandora perched in the bow of the boat, straining her eyes for the first glimpse of Almadin.

“Do you think the boat will move faster if you stand here?” Boxtar asked as he came up behind her.

His arms slid around her waist, cradling her rapidly growing stomach, and she folded her arms over them. Pregnant. She still couldn’t believe it. Back on Earth, she had resigned herself to the fact that children weren’t in the cards for her. And when she and Boxtar had mated, she had assumed that they wouldn’t be able to have children together because of their different species. She was wrong.

As far as she could tell, she must have gotten pregnant the very first time they made love, but it hadn’t even occurred to her. It wasn’t until she consulted Housen about her increasing exhaustion that she found out the truth. When she broke the news to Boxtar, he almost passed out—before carrying her to their bed and keeping her there for an entire day.

She smiled up at him as he gently caressed her stomach.

“It just seems like I’ve been waiting such a long time to return.”

The weather on Sekala had been warm and spring-like for well over a month. Boxtar had sent two smaller boats out to check the waters during that time, but both had returned to report that the ice floes were still active. But they had ceased at last and here they were.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t bring you back sooner.”

Boxtar’s voice was stiff, and she squeezed his arms.

“I know you did everything you could. And it’s not as if I was unhappy on Sekala.”

Life on the island had turned out to be far more enjoyable than her somewhat rocky introduction had indicated. The residents were as varied as the rest of Boxtar’s band, and she quickly learned to accept them. Of course some of them were more dangerous than others, but word of Durva’s death spread quickly, and every one of Boxtar’s males had made it quite clear that a similar fate would befall anyone who laid a finger on her.

Not entirely satisfied with that, Worvak had attempted to teach her to defend herself. She couldn’t say it was particularly successful. She had never been athletic and, as he disgustedly announced, she had no natural instinct to fight. It didn’t help that Boxtar flipped out over even the tiniest bruise. When they had realized she was pregnant, he immediately ordered her to stop training, and she didn’t try to argue. She suspected that Worvak was equally relieved, although he would never have admitted it.

She had channeled her energy into cooking, and her stall of baked goods had rapidly become one of the most popular in their small marketplace. She was quite sure that the food had also gone a long way in convincing the villagers to accept her. Given their enthusiasm, she hoped that the variety of preserves that now filled the hold would prove to be a profitable source of trade—in addition to the ore they had brought for testing. They’d kept her speculations to their own group, but she knew they were all equally excited by the prospect.

Even Lady Jay had become somewhat of a friend. Pandora found she enjoyed the other female’s dry sense of humor—especially now that she had Kahil living with her. When Kahil heard what she had done, he had marched down to the harbor and spanked her in full view of the entire village. Then he’d thrown her over his shoulder and carried her back to her house. They hadn’t emerged for three days, but they’d been together ever since.

She had worried about Lady Jay’s influence on the young Elginar, but despite his youth and his gentle ways, he had lines he would not cross, and he seemed to be a positive influence on her instead.

But most of all, there was Boxtar. Sitting in the kitchen and watching her cook—she had quickly learned that it was far safer than having him try to help—or helping her learn to read the scrolls he had bought for her during the long cold evenings. Evenings that frequently ended early when he carried her off to the big bed and made passionate, creative love to her.

A shiver of remembered pleasure swept over her, and she turned in his arms. Since meeting Boxtar she’d discovered she had a very healthy libido, but being pregnant had magnified it tenfold. They’d had a very satisfactory encounter earlier that morning, but she was more than ready for him again.

“How much longer will it be?”

“Several hours, I’m afraid.”

“That’s plenty of time. I think I’m going to go to our cabin and take a nap.”

“Are you tired?” he asked immediately. “Is the journey too much—”

“Not that kind of nap.”

She slipped her hand between their bodies and dipped beneath his waistband to stroke his papillae. He groaned, his cock swelling to meet her touch. She smiled and led him to their cabin.

“Look, look!” she cried as they approached the harbor later that day. Even from here, she could see the small redheaded figure standing next to an enormous Daichin. “I’m sure that’s Olivia and Baldric.”

The next few minutes passed with agonizing slowness as the figures on the wharf grew gradually larger. She could see her friend dancing with impatience, and almost had a heart attack when it looked as if Olivia was going to fall into the water. Baldric caught her, and even from the ship she could tell he was lecturing her. Olivia started to back away from him, her hand over her butt. Baldric only grinned, tugged her back into his arms, and kissed her.

To Pandora’s relief, her friend melted against him rather than trying to knee him in the balls. It looked like Olivia had finally found a male who knew how to handle her.

Once the ship docked, Boxtar insisted on carrying her down the gangplank, but as soon as he put her down, Olivia threw herself into Pandora’s arms.

“Oh, Panda, I’ve missed you so much and I have so much to tell you and…” Olivia drew back and gave her a startled look. “Oh my God, you’re pregnant!”

She laughed, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I certainly am.”

“And you’re happy about it?” Olivia asked, giving Boxtar a suspicious glare.

“Very, very happy.”

“Then that’s awesome. I’m so happy for you. And for me.”

“You?”

A wide smile split Olivia’s face. “Yep, I’m pregnant too. We’re going to be pregnancy buddies, and then our kids can be friends their whole lives.”

“You’re really pregnant?”

She studied her friend more closely but could see only the tiniest bump.

“I know I don’t look like it, but I’m definitely pregnant. A whole month of morning sickness and my tits aren’t even that much bigger.” Olivia grinned. “Not that Baldric seems to mind.”

Pandora laughed and hugged Olivia again.

“I’m so, so glad to see you. And I have lots to tell you as well, but where’s Quinn?”

Olivia’s smile faltered. “She’s not here.”

“You mean she’s not in Almadin? Then where is she?”

“She’s not even on the planet. She left with some fighter before we even made it to the city.”

She swayed, and Boxtar immediately wrapped his arms around her, glaring at Olivia.

“Do not distress her.”

Olivia glared back. “I’m not distressing her. She wants to know the truth, don’t you, Panda?”

“I need to know. What… what happened?”

“When we got to the city, I found Zargan, and he said he sold her to a fight master and then the fight master gave her to this fighter but the fighter wouldn’t give her back and took her off the planet to some super-secret hideaway.”

Her knees threatened to give out again, and Boxtar growled.

“But I don’t think it’s as bad as it sounds,” Olivia added quickly. “Apparently, he’s very rich and famous, and he bought her a bunch of clothes. Pink clothes.”

Pink was Quinn’s favorite color.

“Do you think he was trying to please her?”

“That’s what it sounded like. And we left a message at his super-secret email address—after Baldric beat it out of the fight master.”

“That’s not exactly what occurred, treasure,” Baldric said. He’d been watching Olivia affectionately, smiling at her account of events.

“Close enough. And anyway, we got a message back!”

Her heart skipped a beat. “What did it say?”

“To meet him at the arena this evening.”

“Did it say anything about Quinn?”

“No—but why else would he want to meet with us?”

“We’re going with you,” she said immediately.

“Of course you are.” Olivia sighed. “But we have to go shopping. Baldric said the opening night is very fancy.”

Her eyes suddenly filled with tears. She’d never thought she’d end up shopping with her friend again. Misunderstanding her distress, Boxtar tightened his arms around her and glared at Olivia again.

“I do not think that is a good idea. My mate is in a delicate condition.”

Olivia rolled her eyes. “So am I. But we’re pregnant, not dying. It’s perfectly natural.”

“Please, Boxtar. I want to go,” she said quickly.

He studied her face, then nodded. “Then we will go shopping.” His expression lightened. “And after all, it is one of Worvak’s favorite activities.”

“You owe me for this,” Worvak growled in Boxtar’s ear.

They were seated in the rear section of an expensive clothing store, waiting as the females tried on clothing.

“You did not have to come,” he reminded his friend.

“I do not abandon my duty simply because it is unpleasant.”

Baldric laughed. His big body was sprawled in one of the shop’s too-small chairs, and he seemed perfectly content to wait for his mate. A mate who was currently arguing with the shopkeeper about the correct way to adjust the long piece of material hanging from the back of her gown.

“I believe I could train her to fight,” Worvak said thoughtfully, watching the interaction, and Baldric shuddered.

“Please don’t suggest it. She is fierce enough already.”

“All the more reason to direct that fierceness.”

Baldric grinned. “I know how to direct it.”

Deciding he didn’t want to ask, Boxtar kept his eyes on the dressing room door where Pandora was changing clothes. To the shopkeeper’s disgust, Worvak had already verified that there were no other entrances to the space, and the only window was too high and too small to allow someone to enter.

When she pushed back the curtain and stepped out, every drop of blood in his body went straight to his cock.

Both females had both chosen to wear pink in hopeful anticipation that they would be reunited with their friend. Pandora’s dress was a very pale pink, only a few shades darker than her glowing skin, a soft swathe of fabric that draped gracefully around her body. The neckline showed just the upper slope of her magnificent breasts but somehow seemed to accentuate them even more, just as the artful folds of the fabric emphasized the ripe curves of her ass and the soft mound of her stomach. She could have been an ancient fertility goddess brought to life.

He simultaneously wanted to show her off to the entire planet as his mate and lock her in a room so that only he could worship her beauty. Of course, locking her in a room had not worked well before, he thought ruefully as he went to meet her.

“What do you think?” she asked, her face anxious.

“I think that I have never seen anyone more beautiful. But I wish I didn’t have to share you with anyone,” he added honestly, tugging her closer so that she could feel the swell of his erection.

Her eyes widened, and then she gave him a slow, seductive smile.

“You only have to share the dress. No one else gets to see what’s beneath it.”

His shaft jerked, and she smiled again.

“This fabric is awfully thin. A quick tug in the right place…” She ran her finger along the neckline, and he saw her nipples press against the thin material.

“I know exactly the right place,” he growled.

She swayed towards him, then hesitated when Olivia demanded her attention.

“Tonight?”

“Tonight,” he promised. “After you find your friend.”

“Do you really think we will?”

“I do.” And if they didn’t, he would use every tool at his disposal to look for her.

Her eyes filled with the ready tears of a pregnant female.

“Thank you. I love you, Boxtar.”

“I love you too, Pandora.” He brushed a kiss across her lips, then gestured to where Olivia was scowling at his second. “Now go and rescue Worvak from Olivia’s wrath.”

She laughed and moved away, the dress floating tantalizingly around her hips. He never thought he would end up shopping in an obscure shop on a backwater planet with a beautiful, pregnant mate, but he’d never been happier. He couldn’t imagine a more perfect fate.

AUTHOR’S NOTE

Thank you so much for reading Pandora and the Prisoner! Pandora is one of my favorite heroines - a curvy librarian who loves to cook! And of course, I loved Boxtar - an unwilling ruffian with a heart of gold.

Whether you enjoyed the story or not, it would mean the world to me if you left an honest review on Amazon – reviews are one of the best ways to help other readers find my books!

As usual, I have to thank my readers for coming on these adventures with me - I couldn’t do it without you!

And, as always, a special thanks to my beta team – Janet S, Nancy V, and Kitty S. Your thoughts and comments are incredibly helpful!

* * *

Up next - Quinn and the Queller!

When Quinn is given to a terrifying alien warrior who sweeps her away to an isolated mansion she expects the worst - but can she reach the lonely male she sees behind the intimidating facade?

Click here to order Quinn and the Queller!

* * *

And for those of you who are interested in finding out more about the prison planet where Boxtar was imprisoned, check out the Folsom Planet Blue series, beginning with

Alien Most Wanted: Caged Beast!

* * *

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OTHER TITLES

The Alien Abduction Series

Anna and the Alien

Beth and the Barbarian

Cam and the Conqueror

Deb and the Demon

Ella and the Emperor

Faith and the Fighter

Greta and the Gargoyle

Hanna and the Hitman

Izzie and the Icebeast

Joan and the Juggernaut

Kate and the Kraken

Lily and the Lion

Mary and the Minotaur

Nancy and the Naga

Olivia and the Orc

Pandora and the Prisoner

Quinn and the Queller

The Alien Invasion Series

Alien Selection

Alien Conquest

Alien Prisoner

Alien Breeder

Alien Alliance

Alien Hope

Exposed to the Elements

The Naked Alien

The Bare Essentials

A Nude Attitude

The Buff Beast

The Strip Down

Folsom Planet Blues

Alien Most Wanted: Caged Beast

Alien Most Wanted: Prison Mate

Alien Most Wanted: Mastermind

Alien Most Wanted: Unchained

Horned Holidays

Krampus and the Crone

A Gift for Nicholas

Cyborgs on Mars

High Plains Cyborg

The Good, the Bad, and the Cyborg

A Fistful of Cyborg

A Few Cyborgs More

The Magnificent Cyborg

The Outlaw Cyborg

Treasured by the Alien

Mama and the Alien Warrior

A Son for the Alien Warrior

Daughter of the Alien Warrior

A Family for the Alien Warrior

The Nanny and the Alien Warrior

A Home for the Alien Warrior

A Gift for the Alien Warrior

Cosmic Fairy Tales

Jackie and the Giant

Blind Date with an Alien

Her Alien Farmhand

Anthologies

Claimed Among the Stars

Adamant Spirits

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Honey Phillips writes steamy science fiction stories about hot alien warriors and the human women they can’t resist. From abductions to invasions, the ride might be rough, but the end always satisfies.

Honey wrote and illustrated her first book at the tender age of five. Her writing has improved since then. Her drawing skills, unfortunately, have not. She loves writing, reading, traveling, cooking, and drinking champagne - not necessarily in that order.

Honey loves to hear from her wonderful readers! You can stalk her at any of the following locations…

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