Table of Contents

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Epilogue

Author’s Note

Deb and the Demon

Alien Abduction Book 4

Honey Phillips

Copyright © 2019 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 Design by Melody Simmons (bookcoverscre8tive.com)

Edited by Nikki Groom @ Indie Hub Editing services (www.indiehub.co.uk)

Dedication

To my mother, who only ever wanted me to be happy

Chapter One

Prince Rastrath sat on the bottom of his pool and looked up at the sky through the shimmering surface above. His Sheraen heritage allowed him to remain underwater for as long as he wished, and he found it one of the few enjoyable reminders of his mixed blood. There was a peace to be found here that could not be found in the palace above. A figure appeared at the edge of his circle of vision and his peace disappeared. With a sigh, he rose to the surface and blinked to clear the nictitating membrane from his eyes.

“Your Highness,” Marious stuttered nervously, and he bit back an impatient remark. His father’s retainers were only too conscious of the Imperial side of his ancestry. They seemed to think he could have their heads chopped off with a wave of his hand. Technically he could, but he was neither as capricious nor as vicious as they seemed to expect.

“What is it?”

“The slave trader is here.” Marious dropped his voice and took a quick glance around. “He has one of those humans you expressed an interest in, although she is not for sale.”

A spike of excitement filled Rastrath. A human slave had seduced Kievan Rus—one of the coldest and most controlled beings Rastrath had ever met—into challenging Prince Ustrod. Ustrod had been Rastrath’s most despicable cousin, which was saying something given the general state of the Royal House, but he was also one of the most powerful. Yet Kievan hadn’t hesitated to take him on in defense of his female. In killing Ustrod, Kievan had removed a cancer from the Empire, but he had also left a dangerous secret. That secret was one of the reasons he was here, on a planet he had vowed never to visit. The presence of a human was an unexpected diversion.

“You will accompany me,” he ordered Marious.

“Yes, Your Highness,” the steward responded and skittered backward. Rastrath reached for his robe, then hesitated. The simple silk garment was a far cry from the ostentatious clothing he usually wore but with a mental shrug, he pulled it on. There was no one here he needed to impress—or to mislead. Without giving it another thought, he strode out of the room.

Marious hurried after him and Rastrath reluctantly slowed down to accommodate the man’s shorter legs. He couldn’t bring himself to make the steward run behind. He might find him annoying but, so far at least, he seemed to be genuinely concerned with ensuring both that Rastrath’s wishes were fulfilled and that the household ran smoothly. Unfortunately, the man took advantage of the slower pace to start a conversation.

“Your Highness,” Marious said tentatively. “We were wondering…”

“Yes?” He knew his voice was not encouraging, but the steward was not deterred.

“The fall session of Parliament will convene soon. It would be a good opportunity for a coronation—”

The wave of bitterness that swept through him was so intense that it took all of his years of training to maintain his calm facade. “I am here for a brief visit, nothing more. There is nothing about Sherae that interests me.”

Marious opened his mouth but he must have read Rastrath’s expression. Instead of speaking, he bowed his head and stepped back a pace to follow quietly in his wake.

The spaceship was docked on one of the smaller islands surrounding the palace island. Given that Sherae was predominately a water planet, flat land was in short supply. The landing site had been carved from the natural coral that made up the many islands, and as they crossed the bridge toward it, he admired how his great-grandfather’s architect had inserted it so naturally amongst the lacy pink spires.

The Ceekat slave trader was pacing back and forth in front of the lowered landing ramp. As soon as he saw them, he hurried over. “I really must protest this delay. I have already informed you that the human is not for…” His words died out as he recognized Rastrath. He immediately plastered an ingratiating smile on his face, rubbed his hands together, and bowed. “Please forgive me, Your Highness. I did not realize that we were halted at your request.”

“An order from my servants is the same as an order from me,” he said coolly. “Where is the human slave?”

The Ceekat rubbed his hands again and cast a nervous glance back at his ship. “I apologize, Your Highness, but she is really not for sale.”

“Why not?”

After another look at his ship, he acknowledged reluctantly. “She is with young. By a Derian.”

“The humans are breeding compatible with other species?” He didn’t let his face reflect his shock, but now he understood the trader’s reticence. Beings able to mate outside their species were comparatively rare and considered highly valuable. “I wish to see her.”

“Yes, Your Highness.” With a resigned sigh, the trader accepted the inevitable and led the way onto the ship. Rastrath followed, glad to see that the conditions on board were basic but appeared clean and well-managed. Slavery was an economic force within the Empire but there was a vast difference between a reputable dealer such as this one and the more unsavory types that were only after a quick profit. They proceeded through several rows of neat white cells, most of them empty, until they stopped before an occupied one. A small figure lay on the bunk, her back to them.

“Get up, girl,” the trader ordered.

There was no immediate response and the man shot an apologetic glance at Rastrath. “I had to remove the collar to avoid harm to the young.”

He nodded, studying the still figure. The white slave gown barely covered lush curves that, even from this distance, had his cock stirring. Conscious that only the thin silk robe covered his body, he turned his attention to the trader.

“How long have you had her?”

“A little over a month. Her previous owner did not realize that she was with young when he purchased her. Apparently, the side effects are a little…unpleasant.” He tittered and Rastrath had to suppress a sudden impulse to slap the smirk from his face. When Rastrath didn’t respond, the trader cleared his throat and continued. “I saw it as an investment. I will be able to sell her again, once she has given birth, and the child will fetch a high price, as a curiosity if nothing else. Imagine a cross between a Derian and another species!”

“You are sure that the Derian is the father?”

“Yes, it is quite clear from the chain of custody on her title.”

“You’re going to sell my child?” The words were a low hiss and they both startled as the female appeared at the bars. Rastrath was struck speechless as he got his first real look at her. Even obviously ill, she was beautiful—a pale face with creamy skin drawn tight over an exquisite bone structure, huge dark eyes fringed by long dark lashes, and a ripe, generous mouth, currently drawn up in an angry snarl. The harsh lighting struck sparks of red in a mane of long dark hair.

Despite the fragile delicacy of her face, her body was unbelievably lush, full breasts straining at the thin gown over the gentle swell of her stomach. An electric pulse of arousal went through his horns and his cock immediately went to full mast. He shifted uncomfortably, aware that it was clearly visible beneath his robe. Normally he wouldn’t care, but here it seemed…inappropriate. Her eyes flicked down, widened, and then fastened on his with a fierce determination.

“If you buy me and let me keep my child, I’ll do anything you want.”

“You’ll do your master’s bidding, no matter who he is,” the trader blustered, but they both ignored him.

“Anything?” he asked, trying for a mocking tone but even he could hear the underlying hunger. He wanted this female with a completely unexpected intensity. “You would do that for your child?”

“Yes,” she said with no hesitation. A mixture of bitterness and longing swept over him. His own mother had certainly never been willing to sacrifice anything on his behalf. He gave one brief jerk of his head and her body sagged against the bars with relief.

“Your Highness—”

“How much?”

“You understand that you would essentially be purchasing two slaves?” The trader apparently realized that his protests were futile and switched to bargaining mode. “Both extremely valuable specimens.”

“Name your price.” He didn’t take his eyes off the female.

The man’s smile broadened, and he named an amount which made Marious give an audible gasp.

“Done.” His mother might not have done anything else for him, but she had left him a large fortune. A fortune which he had more than tripled through his own efforts.

The man’s initial delighted smile was followed by a frown as he obviously realized that he could have gotten much more for the woman, but he gave a reluctant nod. “Very well. I will bring the paperwork.”

“My steward will take care of it. Open the cell.”

Still frowning, the trader used the control pad on his belt to open the bars. Rastrath held out his hand, and the woman hesitated. “Come with me, pet.”

With another look at his face, she stepped forward and placed her hand in his. As she did, her body trembled, and she swayed. With a muffled oath, he caught her and swept her up into his arms before turning to the trader. “When was the last time you fed her?”

The look on his face must have conveyed his anger, because the man’s natural orange coloring faced to a sickly yellow. “We follow the Imperial protocols,” he protested weakly. “She is presented with food on a regular basis. I can’t help it if she doesn’t eat.”

The body in his arms jerked and he looked down to see that she was still conscious, her eyes angry. “Did he feed you, pet?”

“Yes. But it’s always the same things and I can’t keep any of them down.”

“They are standard rations, Your Highness. Nutritionally complete for her body type.”

“I don’t believe anything that cannot be ingested would be considered nutritionally complete,” he said scathingly. “Did you consult your medic?”

Another flinch from the body in his arms and rage swept over him. “Never mind. I will have my own medic examine her and if I find she has been damaged, I will expect a refund.”

Small fingers clutched his arm and despite his anger, he attempted to give her a reassuring smile. It must not have been successful because she bit her lip and tightened her grasp. “You’re not going anywhere,” he said soothingly before glaring at the trader. “But I am quite within my rights not to pay full price for damaged merchandise. As you well know.”

“Yes, Your Highness,” the trader muttered.

“Marious, take care of the paperwork and arrange for the ship’s departure.”

Without another glance at the Ceekat trader or his worried steward, he headed back to the palace, his new purchase cradled safely in his arms.

Deb peeped up through her lashes at the alien carrying her so carefully. The combination of red skin, black horns at each temple, and arched black brows gave him an uncomfortable resemblance to traditional images of the devil, but her experiences over the last horrible months had given her little reason to put stock in appearances. The trader was a round little alien with orange skin and comically exaggerated features, but she had quickly learned that his harmless appearance concealed a ruthless businessman. Until today she hadn’t realized just how ruthless, but she supposed she should have guessed that he intended to take her child. She shivered and the man carrying her looked down.

“Are you cold?” His eyes traced approvingly over her curves, lingering on the tight buds of her nipples and she shivered again. “I will provide you with more suitable clothing.”

“I’ll bet,” she muttered, but apparently his ears were sharper than she had expected, and he frowned. She barely kept herself from cringing, already anticipating a slap, or worse. Instead, he only asked, “Do you doubt me?”

Was he serious? Her anger threatened to break through as she thought back over the outfits—or lack thereof—to which she’d been subjected. Her first master preferred her naked or bound in leather harnesses which dug into her skin harshly enough to leave bruises. The second one covered her in jeweled creations that were as uncomfortable as they probably were expensive. The current white shift was at least soft, although far too skimpy for her rapidly expanding figure. She wanted to yell at him, but she had made a bargain—and she couldn’t be sure that the slave ship had left yet—so she kept her voice even. “Let’s just say that my owners’ idea of suitable has not been mine.”

“I see.” The frown didn’t vanish, and she couldn’t help tensing but he didn’t say anything else, just kept walking. It was curiously soothing to be carried, his tall figure carrying her pregnant weight with no apparent strain, his fingers not digging cruelly into any part of her body. His skin had a fresh scent that reminded of the ocean and she could feel his muscles flexing as he moved. For a second, she almost relaxed into his grip, but then her memories from the past six months came rushing back and she dismissed such foolishness.

Determined to ignore him for as long as possible, she turned her head to survey her new prison and her jaw dropped. They were crossing over an arched bridge of lacy pink stone. Ahead of her was an island covered with buildings composed of the same pink stone, all climbing upward to what appeared to be one unified complex. Airy spires and arches accented the buildings, while flowering shrubs and vines spilled from every available surface. The whole island was surrounded by a calm turquoise sea. She had never seen anything so beautiful.

Eagerly taking in every detail, she barely noticed that they were at end of the bridge until they passed a small stall selling something fried. As soon as the aroma hit her, her stomach convulsed, and the ever-present nausea surfaced. “Put me down,” she demanded, pushing frantically at the arms enclosing her. Too concerned with her heaving stomach to be surprised when he actually obeyed her, she immediately bent over and lost the miniscule contents of her stomach. When the retching finally stopped, she was shocked to realize that her new owner was supporting her, even pulling back her hair with one hand. Her first owner would have shoved her face in the mess and the second one would have been as far away as possible.

“I’m sorry,” she apologized, and immediately resented the fact that she had felt obliged to do so.

“Did the trader cause this?”

It was such an unexpected question that she almost laughed. “No. This little one is to blame.” Her hand went to her stomach, a small smile twisting her lips. “But it’s not her fault.”

“Her? You are having a female child?”

“How would I know?” She bit back another wave of resentment and patted her stomach. “Today she feels like a girl.”

“Is there a problem, Your Highness?” Your Highness? The man who had accompanied her new owner came rushing up. The two men were very different, the new one only slightly taller than her, his wiry body covered with pale gold skin accented with darker yellow markings. What appeared to be small fins flared on each side of his face, emphasizing bulbous blue eyes that blinked anxiously at her companion.

“Yes. My slave is ill. Bring me water and a towel from the custra stand, then find Doctor Mako and tell him to attend me in my rooms.”

“Yes, Prince Rastrath.” The little man scurried off.

“Prince Rastrath?” she asked hesitantly. “Is that your name?”

“Yes. What is yours?” The unexpected question sent tears rushing to her eyes and he almost looked…alarmed? “What’s wrong?”

“You’re the only person who has bothered to ask me that.”

He frowned. “What were you called?”

“Female. Human. Bitch. Slut. Worthless.” A tremor shook her voice, despite her attempt to remain emotionless. “My name is Debra Morgan.” She bit her lip as memories rushed over her. “But everyone used to call me Deb.”

“Here.” The little man had returned, and the prince handed her an odd shaped bottle of water and a small pink towel. “Cleanse yourself, Deb. Then I will take you to my quarters.”

Chapter Two

After she washed out her mouth and took a few sips of water, Deb felt a lot better. When the prince reached for her, she shook her head. “I can walk, Your Highness.”

When he frowned, she bit her lip. “I’m sorry. Should I have said master?”

He opened his mouth, then closed it and shrugged. “Either is fine. Follow me.”

“Yes, master.” He frowned again but turned and headed along a broad avenue. Small restaurants and shops lined each side. A number of people were about, and she was uneasily conscious of just how much the brief dress revealed. She kept her head down but when she snuck a brief glance sideways, she realized that no one was paying much attention to her. Instead, they were staring at the tall figure proceeding her. They bowed nervously as he passed but their eyes followed him, and she could see them whispering to each other.

At least a head taller than anyone else, he was an imposing figure, his red skin much more of a contrast to the pale yellow and gold complexions that surrounded them than her own fair skin. Apparently unconcerned with the attention he drew, he strode up the street wearing a thin silk garment as if it were a robe of state rather than what she suspected was actually a bathrobe. He carried himself like royalty —completely certain of his place in the world—and she wondered uneasily what this bargain would cost her. But in the end, it didn’t matter. He had promised that she could keep her child and she would hang on to that. It was all she had left.

When Deb had gone out for a run on the beach on a clear summer morning, she’d only been looking for some exercise and a little privacy. Her parents and all of her brothers and sisters were still asleep in the tiny rental cottage and as much as she loved them, she relished the opportunity to have some time to herself. As she jogged along the soft sand, she didn’t hear anyone approaching, but some instinct made her look around. Two huge, inhuman monsters loomed behind her. She screamed and tried to run faster but she tripped and fell, hitting her head on a rock as she landed.

The next period was a blurred haze of pain and terror, as she floated in and out of consciousness. She knew from the burning pain between her legs that she’d been raped, possibly more than once, but she didn’t remember it. Just as her head finally began to clear, she found herself placed in chains and displayed to a frightening array of truly alien creatures. She had almost been relieved that the one who bought her, although blue skinned and red eyed, was at least humanoid, rather than tentacled or insectoid. Her relief had been short-lived. Master was cruel, vicious, and almost as interested in hurting her as he was in raping her.

At first, she fought. Even though it never stopped him, she fought for weeks until one day she was just too exhausted and miserable to keep fighting. To her surprise, she discovered that it was her resistance that excited him. Although it killed a little bit of her soul to give in, once she made herself into a passive vessel, he grew bored. After a few more weeks of trying to make her fight, he sold her.

Her next master was one of the insect-like aliens who had terrified her originally, but at least he had no interest in raping her. In fact, she thought he found her somewhat repulsive. But he collected unusual specimens and he wanted her as an addition to his collection. Whenever he had guests, she was brought out of her small room, dressed in the uncomfortable, expensive outfits he chose and displayed on a pedestal for his visitors to poke and prod and admire. Treated as nothing more than an object, her only comfort was the memories of her family, but eventually even they began to fade.

Day after day she had felt herself disappearing—and then she realized she was pregnant. Instead of the anger and disgust she might have felt, she latched on to the idea of a child, of a chance to create a family of her own, with a fierce intensity. The bonds of her slavery, the confined quarters, even being paraded around like an animal, didn’t seem as important once she had a reason to live. Unfortunately, she did not have an easy pregnancy and as the size of her stomach increased and the state of her health decreased, her master grew increasingly dissatisfied. When she threw up over a number of his party guests, he’d had enough and sold her.

The slave ship hadn’t been much of an improvement and she’d been miserably ill for most of the time but at least no one had bothered her. The one upside of the ship had been an upgrade of her translator bug so that she could speak and understand more than rudimentary instructions. All of which led to her present situation. She snuck another glance under her lashes at her new master. Despite his demonic appearance, he was surprisingly attractive, with strong features and a sensual mouth. His eyes were an electric blue, a startling contrast to his red skin and the auburn hair—only a few shades darker—that tumbled over his shoulders. But he was big, as big as Master, and despite his lean build, she had felt his strength. She knew how much he could hurt her. Another shiver wracked her frame and he stopped immediately.

“Are you ill again?”

“No,” she answered quickly and shot an anxious glance over her shoulder. To her relief, the slave ship was no longer present. At least he couldn’t return her immediately if he grew tired of the never-ending sickness.

“You are sure?” He was frowning, and she couldn’t help the wave of anxiety that washed over her, her body trembling.

Ignoring her muffled protest, he picked her up again and resumed their trip at a pace that made her realize just how much he must have tempered his speed on her account. Her stomach was protesting again but his clean scent seemed to help so she turned her head into his neck, wrapped her arms around her stomach, and braced herself for what was to come.

Rastrath almost jerked when the small female—when Deb—turned her face against him. Given her wary defiance, he was surprised by even such a minor sign of acceptance, although he could still feel the tension in her luscious body. Overcoming that caution would be a delightful distraction from the pain of being in this place. The place where his father had apparently led a full, happy life without the slightest desire to meet the result of the seed he had so carelessly sowed. He glanced down at his slave’s arms wrapped so protectively around her stomach, sheltering another child who would have the same experience. Although given the Derians’ reputation for violence and cruelty, it was probably for the best.

Dismissing the thought, he allowed his eyes to wander from her stomach to the ripe swell of her breasts, pushed even higher by her crossed arms. Large, dark nipples were clearly visible through the thin cloth and his mouth watered at the thought of taking those tempting peaks into his mouth. His cock jerked, anxious to make a closer acquaintance with the luscious female but it would have to wait. He needed to ensure her health first.

The avenue transitioned from a public thoroughfare into the series of courtyards marking the entrance to the palace. Never intended for protection, there were no outer barriers or guardhouses defending the palace grounds. Instead, visitors were greeted by cascades of flowering plants, tinkling streams, and airy walls that showed teasing glimpses of even more charming vistas. It was all pretty and pink and delightful, and he fought down another wave of anger as he remembered the dark stone walls and endless restrictions of his own upbringing. Fuck. He hated being here, hated the reminder of all he had lacked, but he needed a place that was quiet, safe, and out of the way of Imperial politics. And despite his father’s indifference, Rastrath was the legal heir.

As they reached the more populated part of the grounds, servants began to appear, scurrying up to inquire if they could assist. After the third one offered to take his female, he’d had enough.

“Leave me,” he roared. “I don’t want to see another soul until I reach my quarters, and the only one I want then is Doctor Mako.”

More jumps and nervous glances, but they departed. He bit back a sigh, knowing that he wasn’t helping his reputation.

“They’re scared of you,” Deb observed quietly. He looked down to find her eyes open and fixed on his face.

“They don’t need to be.”

“Really?” She started to raise an eyebrow and hastily smoothed her expression.

“Yes, really. I am neither harsh nor unfair. But I’m a Prince of the Royal House and that’s all they can see.”

“Maybe they just need to get used to you. How long have you been here?”

“A few weeks. The situation hasn’t improved. They bow and scrape and look at me like I’m a monster.”

“It would probably help if you didn’t yell at them,” she said a little dryly, hastily adding, “Your Highness.”

“I try not to, but sometimes I lose my temper.”

She flinched, and he instantly regretted his words.

“Deb, I may lose my temper, but I do not take it out on them, and I will not take it out on you. You have nothing to fear.”

Her mouth twisted in obvious disbelief, but she said nothing. After a brief debate with himself, he let it drop. His words were not going to convince her; only time would take care of that.

No other servants appeared, although he caught a glimpse of one or two disappearing down a corridor as he passed. He shook his head but decided it wasn’t worth worrying about. He wouldn’t be here long enough to try and establish a good relationship with his staff. As requested, Dr. Mako was standing outside the door to his rooms.

The doctor was one of the few retainers who didn’t seem intimidated by his presence. Tall for a Sheraen, he carried himself with a quiet dignity that impressed Rastrath. His markings had faded with age, but his eyes were still bright and alert.

As Rastrath approached, the doctor bowed his head but quickly focused on the woman in his arms. “I assume that’s my patient?”

“Yes.”

Deb jerked, and he looked down to find her eyes wide, her face frightened. Holding her a little more securely, he nodded for the doctor to open the doors and precede them. Once inside, he led the way through to the bedroom. On his arrival, he had taken possession of his father’s suite, finding a somewhat childish delight in replacing his parent, but he had to admit that it was a beautiful space. Large, airy rooms surrounded an immense central balcony which overlooked the sea. As he laid Deb on the enormous bed, beneath an arched canopy of delicately carved coral, he couldn’t help but admire how the surroundings suited her feminine beauty.

When he started to stand back up, she clutched his arm. “I don’t need a doctor.”

“You are not well.”

“I’m fine, really. What do you want me to do to prove it to you?” Her small hand slipped beneath his robe and grasped his cock. Her eyes widened again as it immediately responded to her touch, but she stroked him with determined fingers. A fraction slower than he should have, he gently removed her hand.

“The doctor first.”

“No.” She would have scurried across the bed if he hadn’t retained his clasp.

“He’s not going to hurt you.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Child, I assure you that I will not cause you harm.” The doctor stepped forward, his voice soothing.

She cast a despairing glance from him to the doctor but nodded and stopped trying to get away, although every muscle tensed. “Go ahead.”

Chapter Three

Deb laid back against the soft coverlet and clenched her fists. Every time she had been “examined” since she’d been had been taken, it had been at best painful and humiliating, at worst…she shuddered and tried to push the memory away. The prince was still studying her face, his eyes worried.

“Do you want me to stay?”

Shocked that he would even ask, she forced herself to consider his offer. So far, he had been surprisingly patient and protective. While she didn’t trust his forbearance to continue, if he was still at the point of protecting his investment, she should take advantage of it. “Yes.” Then added hastily, “Please, master.”

This was the second time he frowned at the title, although he had said it was acceptable. She was trying to come up with another alternative when the doctor reached for her hand. It took every bit of the self-control she’d so painfully acquired not to flinch away, but the prince must have recognized her distress. He rounded the bed and sat next to her, taking her other hand in a reassuring clasp before nodding at the doctor to continue.

To her surprise, he did nothing at first but hold her wrist with cool, dry fingers. A warm sea breeze, scented with flowers, slipped in through the open windows. Reflections from the water on the waves danced across the ceiling and only the sound of the ocean broke the silence. Almost against her will, her body began to relax. When the doctor finally spoke, his voice was low and soothing.

“That’s better. I’m going to start by asking you a few questions. Do you know how far along you are?”

“No. Nobody bothered to give me a calendar.” The bitterness couldn’t be suppressed, but she tried to keep her voice even as she continued. “Four months, maybe? Possibly five.”

The doctor stroked her wrist, then continued. “What is the standard gestation period for humans?”

“Nine months.”

He looked across the bed at the Prince. “And the father is Derian?”

“Yes.” The two men exchanged a glance she couldn’t interpret but the doctor merely resumed his gentle questioning.

“Have you ever been pregnant before?”

“No.” Tears threatened, but she sniffed them back. She’d only just graduated college and hadn’t been thinking of starting a family, but she’d always assumed she would have one. If only it hadn’t happened like this.

“Is this sickness common for your people?”

“I remember my mom had morning sickness when she was pregnant with my youngest sister, but only at the beginning.” A tear she couldn’t prevent slipped down her cheek at the memory of her family. The prince’s hand tightened on hers, big and warm and comforting, while the doctor made a soothing sound.

“Hm. Based on your size and my knowledge of Derian anatomy, I would say your estimate is correct. However, your body should have adjusted to the increase in hormones and you should be past this stage by now.”

Her heart skipped a beat. “Do you think there’s something wrong?”

“Not at all. I suspect it’s most likely a case of finding the appropriate nutrition. Does your species eat seafood?”

“Yes, and vegetables. Meat,” she added.

For a moment, she thought he looked shocked, but it passed so quickly, she wasn’t sure. “I will need to take a blood sample to determine the correct diet.”

She flinched and started to scoot away but he gave a small smile. “I promise, it won’t hurt.” Before she could argue, there was a cool sensation against the underside of her wrist and then he was holding up a tiny vial. “You see?”

“Is that all?” Rastrath asked. “Just finding out what she needs to eat?”

The doctor hesitated, his kind eyes traveling from her to the prince. “It would be best if I examined her.”

“No!” This time she wrenched her wrist away and clutched at Rastrath with desperate fingers. “Please don’t let him.”

“Ssh, sweetheart. Don’t you want to make sure the baby is healthy?”

“Yes, but…”

“Has Dr. Mako hurt you so far?”

“No, but…” Once again, her voice trailed off as she remembered the pain and humiliation of having her legs pried apart, strange hands invading her, hurting her. She shuddered.

“I think it would be wise to let him proceed.” His voice was kind but implacable. Compliant, she reminded herself. She had to be compliant.

“Fine,” she managed at last.

“I suspect that is not an accurate translation,” he said dryly. “Can you perform the examination here, doctor?”

“Of course. Normally, I would call for a female nurse to assist me. Would that make you more comfortable, my dear?”

Another stranger to witness her humiliation? No, thank you. She shook her head.

“Do you wish the prince to remain?”

That was a tougher call, but in the end, she nodded. If the doctor was going to hurt her, let him bear witness to her pain. She could only hope it didn’t excite him.

The doctor opened his bag and drew out a pristine white cloth. He spread it across the bed and asked her to lay down but all she could do was stare at it.

“Hold on, sweetheart,” Rastrath murmured. Before she could respond, he had taken a seat against the headboard and positioned her in front of him, tucked between his legs. She was still adjusting to the move when he spread her legs, gently positioning them over his so that she was spread open. Overwhelmingly conscious of her lack of underwear, her cheeks flamed, and she immediately tried to bring her legs together but he held them firmly in place. “You said anything I wanted,” he reminded her as she tried to kick free, and she froze.

He was right. Every instinct demanded that she fight him, but she had made a bargain. Her child was worth it. The thought didn’t prevent another tear from slipping free.

“Don’t cry, sweetheart. Everything will be fine.” He wiped the tear away, then bent his head and kissed her. Shock held her motionless. No one had kissed her since before she’d been taken. Master had certainly had no interest in her mouth, other than what it could do for him. Rastrath’s lips were firm and warm and as he nibbled gently at her mouth, a flicker of unwanted arousal flared up, her nipples tightening and a faint ache starting between her thighs. Her lips almost parted before she could control herself. Panicking, she reached up to push him away but then she remembered her bargain and stopped with her hand against his cheek.

When his mouth finally lifted, his eyes were warm and approving but he didn’t say anything to her. Instead, he nodded to the doctor to continue. Her cheeks flamed as she realized that she had forgotten the presence of the other man. The doctor’s expression was unreadable, but he simply held out his hands and paused. “I’m going to touch your stomach now.”

He waited until she gave a reluctant nod before he touched her. Cool fingers probed at her stomach, and he didn’t hurt her, although he made her jump when he probed beneath her ribs. The prince growled and the doctor shot him a surprised look but continued the exam.

“Very good. I will do the internal exam now.”

She tensed and one of Rastrath’s hands abandoned her leg to curl around her beneath her breasts. It didn’t feel restraining, it felt like a hug, and she managed to nod again. The doctor pulled on a plastic glove and for the first time, she noticed that he had webbing between his fingers. If they were an aquatic species, perhaps that explained his distressed look when she mentioned eating meat. That train of thought distracted her until he pulled out a metal wand and the panic returned.

“It won’t hurt you, my dear.” The doctor’s eyes were kind. “Do you want to touch it?”

No, she didn’t want anything to do with it. Nonetheless she reached out a tentative fingertip. It was barely the width of her finger, but it still felt threatening. Her terror started to build again but then Rastrath tipped her head back and kissed her. This time he wasn’t as tentative. Gently but implacably, he coaxed her lips apart and slid his tongue into her mouth. He tasted amazing, fresh and slightly salty, and she found herself responding, her tongue shyly reaching for his as the kiss deepened. Her hand went up, not to push him away but to curl around his neck as she clung to him. It was only when she went to turn more fully into his arms and felt his hand holding her leg open that she remembered what was happening.

As soon as he felt her tense, he let her go, but he smiled softly down at her flushed face before he turned to the doctor. “You may continue.”

Rastrath put both hands back on her thighs, pulling her snugly against an extremely large erection as he held her legs apart, his hands gentle but unmovable. Her mind still a whirl of conflicted thoughts from her reaction to his kisses, she barely noticed what the doctor was doing until she felt the cool metal touch the entrance to her vagina. Her immediate reaction was panic but Rastrath’s arms hugged her and he lowered his head next to hers. “Ssh, sweetheart. He isn’t going to hurt you.”

The wand slipped easily into her channel and he was right, it didn’t hurt. In fact, it felt a little too good and she realized just how turned on she had been by the kiss. She looked down. The doctor’s face was cool and professional as he studied a small screen while he manipulated the device but the sight of the metal tube sliding in and out of her was somehow erotic. Rastrath’s cock jerked and she realized that he was equally focused on the doctor’s actions.

“Very good. Nothing to indicate any problems, although I’ll take this back to the lab and examine the results in more detail.” Dr. Mako looked up as he finished speaking and after one glance at their faces, he stood. “I’ll report back later, Your Highness.”

“You’re done?” Rastrath’s voice was a low growl against her ear and he hadn’t released her legs.

“Yes. After I study her bloodwork, I’ll work with the kitchens to determine a suitable diet.”

Without another word, the doctor departed. Slowly she turned her head to find Rastrath watching her from only inches away. A demonic smile crossed his face. “Now you’re mine.”

Chapter Four

Deb tensed, fear threatening her arousal, but then he slid his hand gently between her legs and the unexpected arousal won out. This was the first time someone had touched her with the intention of giving her pleasure since she’d been taken. Her hips jerked forward, demanding more, and he laughed approvingly.

“That’s right, sweetheart.” As he spread her open with his fingers, they could both see the moisture glistening on her swollen folds. The long hard bar of his cock pressed against her ass and she knew she should be afraid—but she wanted this, she wanted to feel pleasure again. He used his free hand to stroke two fingers up her slit and she cried out as they slipped over her clit, but he kept going, circling back down to probe at her entrance. When he slipped a finger into her, it was much larger than the doctor’s slender instrument, but it didn’t hurt, not a bit, and she clenched down, wanting more. His cock jerked in response, but he maintained his position and began a gentle thrusting motion that had her eyes rolling back in pleasure.

“Such a sweet little cunt, clinging to my finger so tightly. Does she want more?” His voice was a low growl in her ear, his warm breath sending shivers up her spine as they both watched his finger penetrate her.

“Yes, oh please, yes.”

He added another finger and it stretched her, but the slight burn turned to pleasure so quickly she didn’t have time to be afraid. His rhythm became more demanding and she arched into his hand, her body starting to tense in anticipation. She was so close, she just needed… desperate, she started to reach for her throbbing clit, but he got there first.

“Not this time, pet. I’m going to give you your first pleasure.” He circled the swollen flesh and she grabbed his wrist, desperate for something to hold on to.

“Show me what you like,” he urged.

“I don’t know.” She was panting, trying to reach that elusive peak that was just out of reach.

“Slow, like this…” He pulled back the hood and stroked the exposed flesh with a tender delicacy that left her shaking. “Or fast, like this?” This time he circled the demanding nub, pressing firmly all around her clit but not actually touching it.

“The first.” She could barely get the words out, but she tried to lift her hips, seeking more of that exquisite touch. He laughed, the vibration sending pleasurable ripples through her body. The fingers entering her pussy moved faster, harder, demanding more from her as he once again barely touched her exposed clit. The contrast had her whole body tense and shaking, straining for her climax.

“Now, sweetheart. Come for me now.” He pressed firmly on her swollen nub as he spread his fingers and her body exploded. Bright lights flashed across her vision as she convulsed, still cradled in his arms. Her pussy clamped down hard on the resistance provided by his fingers and the additional pressure sent more waves of pleasure through her trembling body as the climax rolled on and on. It wasn’t until the shaking stopped that the tears began.

Rastrath held Deb close with a feeling of immense satisfaction. She had come apart so beautifully, every bit as sensual as her lush body had promised. And her cunt, so tight and silky around his fingers that he could only imagine how magnificent she would feel around his cock. His body throbbed, eager for satisfaction, but he was unexpectedly content just to hold her until she recovered. It took a moment for him to realize that she was no longer shaking from her climax but the sobs that were wracking her small frame.

“Sweetheart? Deb? What’s the matter?” At the sound of her name, she just cried harder until she was gasping for breath. Beginning to panic, he took them both to the edge of the bed where he could reach the com panel and sent out an urgent call to the doctor.

Unable to think of anything else to do, he picked her up in his arms and began walking the floor, pacing back and forth as he hummed softly. Her sobs died down, but she was still wheezing when the doctor appeared. She moaned at the sight of him and clutched Rastrath’s robe.

“Ssh, sweetheart.” He tried to soothe her, but her cries began to increase again.

“Help her,” he demanded.

Dr. Mako frowned. “I believe it will take a sedative to calm her.”

“Do it.”

Deb tried to flinch away, but he held her firmly while the doctor puffed the drug into her lungs. Her eyes closed immediately but her breath continued to shudder for several long minutes before her body relaxed and her breathing deepened. His own tension eased as she calmed.

The doctor was still frowning. “Perhaps I should admit her to the infirmary.”

“No. You saw how frightened she was of you. I don’t think she would react well to waking up in a medical center.”

His immediate instinct was to put her back in his bed, but if she had been traumatized by what had occurred between them, perhaps a different location would be better. But where? He had no intention of housing her in the slave quarters. Inspiration struck as he glanced around the suite and remembered that there was a second bedroom on the other side of the balcony. It was intended for a Consort, so he’d never even bothered to enter it.

With the doctor trailing him, he carried Deb there, relieved to see that his efficient staff had kept it clean and prepared. He lowered her onto the bed and covered her with a light blanket. She looked so small and helpless in the enormous bed that he hated to leave her.

“She will sleep for several hours,” Dr. Mako said, and urged him to the door. He went, although not happily, and left the door cracked behind him.

Once they were back in the main room, the doctor asked, “What happened?”

“I don’t know. One moment she was…happy, and the next, she was hysterical.”

“Did you have sex with her?”

Every ounce of his royal training protested the impertinence of the question, but the doctor’s face was concerned rather than offensive so he sighed and answered.

“Not exactly. But I did give her pleasure.”

“I see.” The doctor rubbed his chin, then sighed. “I suspect that she couldn’t cope with it after the abuse she has suffered.”

Horror struck, he stared at the other man. Why would anyone damage that fragile, beautiful body? “Abuse?”

“You didn’t notice the scars?”

He looked away, ashamed to admit that he had only been focused on the signs of her arousal.

“The scan revealed some previous internal tears, also, although they have healed remarkably well.”

Anger shot through him so quickly that his knees weakened, and he turned away, walking out onto the balcony to let the fresh air clear his head. He wasn’t naive; he knew that despite Imperial law, slaves were often abused. Ustrod, his deceased cousin, had a horrendous reputation for the treatment of his slaves. But, somehow, it had never come so close to him before. The slaves in the Imperial Palace had always presented a smiling face. His horror must have been apparent because the doctor followed him and actually patted his arm soothingly.

“As I said, her body has healed well. I suspect her mental wounds will not heal as rapidly.”

Deeply troubled, he stared out to sea. “Should I let her go?”

“Go where?” The doctor raised an eyebrow. “She is alone and pregnant and…desirable. She needs your protection.”

“She will have it.”

The doctor nodded. “Good. I will have food sent up before she wakes.” He turned and left, just as Marious came rushing in.

“Your Highness. The man you were waiting for has arrived.”

“Very well. Show him…” he hesitated and glanced at the half open door, then sighed. “Bring him here.”

Marious scurried away and he moved over to close the door. He paused, studying the small figure. She did not sleep peacefully, her legs and arms twitching, and as he watched, she moaned. Unable to resist, he moved closer, stroking a gentle hand through the heavy silk of her glorious hair. “Hush, sweetheart. You’re safe now.”

Surprisingly gratified when she sighed and her restless movement stilled, he remained at her side, petting her softly until he heard the outer doors open. It was his turn to sigh, but he gave her one last caress and left.

If Marious had looked nervous before, now he looked terrified. He hovered by the doors and as soon as Rastrath looked at him, he put one hand on the door handle. “Do you need me, Your Highness?”

“No, he doesn’t need you, fish face. Go,” Athtar roared.

Somewhat to Rastrath’s surprise, Marious still waited for his nod before scurrying away. He wouldn’t have blamed the man for running. Athtar was an imposing sight anywhere, but compared to the diminutive Sheraens, he was a giant. Over seven feet of heavily muscled, blue-skinned warrior, his bare chest covered only by his weapons harness, he looked like a savage god come to life. The runic tattoos covering his chest and the multitude of braids twisting through his long white blond hair only added to the effect.

“Was that really necessary?” Rastrath asked.

“I’ve no time to waste with fools. Or worthless royal scum.”

“And I’ve no patience for impudent dogs who don’t know their places.”

Pleasantries exchanged, they grinned and slapped each other’s back, Rastrath trying not to flinch from the blow.

“What’s all the fucking secrecy about?” Athtar demanded.

With a glance at the closed door, he led the way out onto the balcony. Silently, the men looked out over the calm turquoise sea and the cluster of pink islands dotting the horizon.

“Nice place the feckless bastard left you.”

Rastrath shot him a surprised look and Athtar shrugged. “Too fucking peaceful to suit me, but it’s pretty enough.”

“The only thing that suits you is a dirty old freighter.”

“True enough.”

That dirty old freighter had been Rastrath’s home for almost two years. After receiving word, months after the fact, that his mother had died of a lingering sickness during which she hadn’t bothered to contact him, he had abandoned the Imperial Palace and taken a job on the first ship leaving the port. Athtar had spent the next six months beating the spoiled kid out of him and in the process, they had become friends. The captain hid a mountain of loyalty and intelligence behind his gruff facade and Rastrath knew that he could trust him.

“The reason you’re here,” he said, turning to his oldest and best friend, “is that someone has invented a device capable of destroying a planet.”

“Fuck me with a blunt spoon.”

“Exactly.”

Chapter Five

“A planet destroyer? How is that even fucking possible?”

“I don’t know, but my oh so charming cousin Ustrod had it used on Sardor.”

Athtar whistled. “So that’s what happened. I heard they had to find a new planet. Why did Ustrod have such a hate on for them?”

“It’s complicated, but basically, he was committing wholesale slaughter and using the blood to make Bliss stones. He was afraid that the Sardorans knew, or would figure it out, and try and stop him. There was already bad blood there after they defeated his little rebel army out on Tronbard.”

“Bliss stones are made from blood?” Athtar tugged on one of the braids twisted in his beard. “Fuck. I thought the Bliss stones were rocks. Well, everyone did. Guess I won’t be smuggling, err, trading, any more of those. Kind of a pity, they were profitable.” He looked at Rastrath’s face and swore. “Shit, I’m sorry, Rast. I forgot.”

Rastrath simply nodded and led the way to a seating area but the memories weren’t so easy to dismiss. Bliss stones were small pink stones which combined a calming influence with a mild aphrodisiac effect—for most species. Unfortunately, for some species the aphrodisiac effects were uncontrollable. His cousin Ustrod had discovered that and used it to take advantage of the very young daughter of one of the palace servants. She had killed herself in despair and Rastrath had been the one to find her. His anger had driven him to investigate the source of the stones, which in turn led both to the discovery that Ustrod was behind the stones and that he was trying to have the Sadorans destroyed.

“So, what do you want me to do?” Athtar prompted, and he realized that he’d been sitting silently, lost in his memories.

“Ustrod had the Brotherhood working for him.”

“Those fucking assassins?”

“Yes. They were the ones to set it off on Sardor. Apparently, they don’t know where it comes from either, but if they decide to pursue it…”

“The last thing we need is for them to get their fucking hands on it,” Athtar concluded. “They’d sell it to anyone with enough credits.”

“Exactly.”

“Which means we need to get there first, but where do we start?”

“Ustrod was also using the Serigali as delivery boys.”

“Fuck.” Athtar shook his head. “He sure wasn’t picky about who he worked with. They’re a bunch of nasty fuckers. Just as likely to eat their victims as to fuck ‘em. Or both.”

“Do you think my cousin cared?” Rastrath said. “They were just another tool to him. But I have a set of logs from one of their ships. I want you to retrace their route. I’m hoping that one of their stops is where the lab is located.”

“Fuck. How’d you get that?”

“A Sardoran had a run in with them. He killed them all and got the logs.”

“And he just gave them to you?” Athtar raised his brow.

“Not exactly. But I did Kievan Rus a…favor, and he’s given me information in return. I heard Ustrod say that he was killing animals to make the Bliss stones. Turns out they aren’t animals.”

“What?” Athtar looked as shocked and disgusted as he felt.

“The Sardorans think they’re sentient. I took it to the Emperor.”

Athtar snorted. “Since when did the Royal Family ever give a shit about anything like that? He probably just grabbed the planet for himself.”

“I admit I had my doubts, too, but I also knew that Ustrod was worried about him. In the end, I decided to tell him. He’s quarantined the planet and sent a team to see if they can establish communication.”

“Communication? I’ll bet.” Athtar frowned. “You really think that’s what he’s doing?”

“I had a man on the team. So far it seems like he’s doing just that.”

“Huh. Well, I’ll be a thrice damned son of a yujucado. Never thought I’d see any good come out of that family. Present company excepted, of course.”

Rastrath grinned at him, then asked. “So you’ll do it?”

“Why the fuck not?” He settled back against his seat and raised an eyebrow. “‘Course, it’ll cost you.”

“I expected that. Do you need anything other than the logs?”

“I know you’ve been watching him for a while. Send me lists of everyone he came into contact with. I’ll set Kanithe to researching them and cross-checking against the logs. You know how good she is at that type of thing.”

“Done. Now, about the price…”

After an amicable, but remarkably profane negotiation, they agreed on a price. Rastrath sent for some ale and they sat and talked for a while before Athtar rose to his feet.

“I’ll be on my way, then.”

“You won’t spend the night?”

“Nah. Too fucking quiet for my crew. They’ll only cause trouble and shock your little Sheraens.”

“They’re not my Sheraens.”

“Aren’t they? Blood calls to blood.” Athtar walked to the railing and stood looking out over the water. “You know my father’s ancestors were sailors. I still feel the pull of the sea. Maybe when I retire, I’ll come join you here.”

“If that’s what you want, I’ll give you this palace. I certainly won’t be here.”

A skeptical look crossed Athtar’s face, but he only shrugged. “We’ll see. Take care, my friend.”

Once Athtar departed, Rastrath went back to the balcony rail. It was true that he liked the ocean, liked the clean smell of the air and the sound of waves lapping against the shore. Could he really be drawn to it by the blood of the father he had never met? Dismissing the thought, he went to check on Deb before he began assembling the lists for Athtar.

Deb awoke feeling oddly empty. The earlier events trickled back into her mind, but they seemed somehow distant. She remembered the doctor, she remembered climaxing, and she vaguely remembered dissolving into hysterics, but they all seemed to have happened to someone else, like she’d seen them in a movie. The one clear memory was Rastrath kissing her. She licked her lips and thought she caught a hint of his taste.

Her hand curved protectively over her stomach. Had she already screwed up? The fact that she was laying on a soft mattress with a pretty canopy overhead, rather than confined to a cell, argued against it, but no man would want a hysterical female. For her child’s sake, she had to do better. The baby was completely dependent on her and she was all too conscious of her inadequacies. A longing for her own mother swept over her with such painful intensity that she had to bite back another round of tears.

A soft chink distracted her, and she realized that a similar noise had awakened her. A Scraak was setting out food on a table by the window. For a second, the fear that she had been returned paralyzed her—her second master had been a Scraak—but then her common sense kicked in. Master B’tal had preferred rigid geometrical lines, not the organic curves surrounding her. None of his rooms had been open to the exterior and even from her bed, she could see the ocean outside the windows. A soft sea breeze filtered into the room and she knew she was still with Rastrath. The Scraak finished laying the table and turned around.

The Scraak had segmented bodies with two legs and four slender graceful arms. An ebony carapace covered every inch, including their heads, so it was hard to tell them apart, but she had been with Master B’tal long enough to identify the subtle differences and now she recognized this female. She had also been on the slave ship, in a cell across for hers. When the female realized that Deb was awake, she stopped and bowed her head.

“Greetings, mistress.”

“Greetings…I’m sorry, I don’t know your name.”

“I am T’lik. Dr. Mako had this meal prepared for you.”

“Thank you. I assume you were sold here, also?”

“Yes. Isn’t it wonderful?” Her mandibles waved softly with pleasure.

“Wonderful?” It was certainly beautiful, but slavery was slavery.

“Yes. Not many planets offer you the chance to work your way to freedom.”

The blood drained from her face so fast she felt dizzy. “What did you say?”

“Are you all right, mistress? You’re paler than normal.”

“I’m fine, I’m fine.” She waved an impatient hand. “What was that about freedom?”

“You receive credits for each day that you work. When you have accumulated the credits equivalent to your purchase price, you are freed. Then you can work for whoever you desire.”

“Free.” It had never even occurred to her that it was a possibility. Now, the word chimed in her head and she wanted it with a fierce desperation, for herself and her child.

“Was this not explained to you at orientation?”

“No. I suspect I had a somewhat unusual introduction to…What is this planet?”

“It is called Sherae.”

“I must talk to Rastrath.” As she climbed out of bed, her knees buckled, but T’lik was there to steady her.

“You must eat, mistress.”

“I think you’re right. Bathing might be a good idea, as well.”

An hour later, fed, bathed, and dressed, Deb went in search of Rastrath. The food had been simple but delicious and so far, showed every sign of staying down. One wall of the shower had been open to the outdoors and she’d relished the lack of boundaries. After some debate, T’lik had found her a silky red gown that accentuated her curves. Deb still thought she should have continued to wear the traditional slave gown but T’lik assured her that it was allowed—and it would certainly help her cause if she looked her most attractive.

Butterflies rioted in her stomach, threatening to undo the doctor’s efforts, as she stood in the doorway of the large library which formed one wing of the prince’s personal quarters. Like all of the rooms she had seen so far, it was open to the outside and she could see a lush garden just beyond the arches. Rastrath was seated in front of a set of floating screens, their futuristic technology at odds with the more traditional furnishings that filled the rest of the room. She was still hovering in the doorway—uncertain if she should announce herself, uncertain if she should even be here—when he looked up.

Even from across the room, his eyes were startlingly blue, and she suppressed a shiver as she remembered the way he had looked at her after he kissed her. As soon as he saw her, he rose and came toward her. Panic and an unwilling attraction warred for dominance as he crossed the room. Instead of the robe, he was wearing thin silk pants and his chest was bare, revealing an intimidating, and arousing, display of lean, defined muscle.

“Are you feeling better, sweetheart? Are you certain that you should be up? Your servant should have told me that you were awake.”

“Don’t punish her,” she said quickly. “I asked her to let me tell you myself.”

“I have no intention of punishing her.” He frowned. “But you should not be on your feet.”

“No, master. I’m sorry, master.” Her cheeks flamed as she sank to her knees.

“Deb, that’s not what I meant.” The sound of her name held her motionless with shock. Reaching down, he pulled her gently to her feet and led her to one of the overstuffed sofas overlooking the garden. “Please sit.”

Given how her knees were shaking, she sank gratefully into the soft cushions. After a brief hesitation, he sat next to her but a full arms-length away, and her heart sank. What if he was already tired of her? No matter how much she hated the idea, the only thing she had to bargain with was her body. She turned toward him, deliberately pulling her arm back enough to accentuate her breasts. When his eyes immediately dropped to the full mounds, she felt both triumphant and distressed. Her distress increased when her nipples tingled, responding to his inspection. She shifted, and he looked away at the same time.

“Did you wish to see me, Deb?”

“Yes, master. I wanted to…let you know that I am ready to resume my duties.”

“Your duties?”

“Yes, master. I know we made a bargain.”

To her dismay, he looked uncomfortable rather than eager. “I’m not sure that this was a good idea.”

A sob escaped before she could suppress it and she flung herself off the couch to kneel at his feet. “No, master. Please don’t send me back.”

“I have no intention of sending you back, sweetheart. But I don’t think you can handle my…needs. Why are you suddenly so eager?”

Now that the moment was here, she wasn’t quite sure how to broach the subject. Her fingers played with the hem of her dress and she kept her eyes on them. “One of the other slaves said that if we repaid our purchase price, we would be freed. Is that true?”

She snuck a glance up at him, but he was leaning back, his eyes closed and a frown on his face. Her heart sank but she moved a little closer and ran a daring hand up the inside of his thigh, although she didn’t quite have the nerve to touch his cock. To her relief, she saw it start to respond anyway, the already impressive length expanding. If nothing else, his body was interested. “Is it true?” she repeated, letting her breath whisper over him.

“Yes.” He straightened, bending forward to cup her cheek. “But sweetheart, it only applies to this planet. Most other places in the universe, you would still be regarded as my property, or worse, you would be vulnerable to another slaver.”

Having to stay here didn’t sound too bad; Sherae seemed like a nice place. A shaft of pain went through her as she thought of her family, but she forced herself to dismiss it. Even if she had been able to leave, she could never take a half alien baby back to Earth. For right now, she had to concentrate on what was best for her baby—and that was freedom on Sherae. Biting her lip, she gathered her courage and reached out to stroke his cock. It responded to her touch, stiffening beneath her fingers. She squeezed it gently, dismayed and slightly aroused when it continued to grow. He groaned and put his hand over hers, but he didn’t take it away.

“Sweetheart, what are you doing?”

“Working off my debt.”

Chapter Six

Deb’s fingers trembled as she worked Rastrath’s cock free from his pants. Nestled in a bed of red gold curls, it was…not human. Already flushed a dark red, the basic shape was similar to a human penis, although larger than any one she’d ever seen, but it was covered with thick veins that spiraled around the entire length. She traced one curiously, feeling it pulse beneath her finger, and he groaned again. Master would never have tolerated this delay and she jumped when Rastrath’s hand tightened over hers, but he only urged her gently to repeat the movement. As she did, tiny drops of precum started to appear on the pointed tip.

Praying that he didn’t taste disgusting, she took a cautious lick. He didn’t. Instead, he tasted clean and salty and she licked him again, more slowly. When he didn’t immediately force her head down, she took a deep breath, then took him in her mouth. He made no attempt to take over, his hand still using hers to stroke the thick base of his cock, and she took her time, running her tongue along the spiral veins and gradually descending down his shaft. When her mouth reached their joined hands, she lifted them away, and before he could protest, swallowed him to the root.

“Holy fuck!” His hand clenched around hers, but he didn’t grab her hair or try to make her go faster. Instead, he whispered gentle words of encouragement and she suddenly found herself enjoying the process. She liked feeling the tension in his legs, hearing his sounds of approval, even the way his cock jerked when she found a sensitive spot with her tongue. Of her own accord, she sped up, moving faster as she felt his excitement increase, as his balls tightened, and when he finally plunged deep, she held him there, swallowing around his engorged cock as he erupted in an explosion of hot seed that didn’t burn, that filled her with pleasure instead of pain. When she finally lifted her head, she was smiling.

But then she realized that she was also aroused. Her nipples were diamond hard, her breasts aching, and she could feel the slick warmth between her legs. Once again, her body had betrayed her and she was aroused by an owner, a master who had simply purchased her as if she were an animal. A tear trickled down her cheek, then another one, until she was crying again.

“Sweetheart, please don’t cry.” With a muffled oath, Rastrath reached down and lifted Deb onto his lap. His body was still limp with satisfaction, but the sight of her tears rapidly erased his euphoria and brought on his guilt. He knew he shouldn’t have let her pleasure him, but she had been so beautiful kneeling there, the red silk accentuating each luscious curve and echoing the red highlights in that glorious mane of hair. When she touched him with those small, soft hands and tasted him with that eager pink tongue, he hadn’t been able to resist. And the way she took him completely into her tight little throat…he would have had to be a far better man than he was to have stopped her then. But now her tears tore at him. At least she wasn’t hysterical this time and after a few more sobs, she quieted.

“I’m sorry, master,” she said softly. He winced, and she must have felt the movement because she turned her head to look up at him. “You don’t like that title, do you?”

“Not particularly. I’ve been surrounded by people calling me master all my life. It never stopped them from gossiping about me or telling lies.”

“Why would they do that?”

Big dark eyes stared up at him innocently and he realized that she had no knowledge of the Empire, or the Royal House, or his failings. It was curiously refreshing.

“Because I am a Prince of the Royal House.” He left out the fact that his blood was tainted. “I am in a direct line to the throne, through my mother. She was a cousin of the present Emperor.” Her eyes widened, and he forced a laugh. “Don’t get too excited, sweetheart. They would have to go through thirty-eight other heirs before they got to me. Praise the Gods.”

“You don’t want to be Emperor?”

“I can think of nothing that I would like less,” he said honestly. To be stuck on that enormous mausoleum of a planet, surrounded by back-stabbing, scheming courtiers, every move watched and dissected for weakness? He would rather die—and he suspected that most of the other princes would be only too happy to assist in that wish.

“So, what should I call you?”

“You could just call me Rast.”

“That doesn’t seem very respectful.”

“It’s my name. Are you saying that my name doesn’t inspire respect?” he teased.

She blushed but she didn’t flinch, so he counted that as progress. Her eyes dropped, and she began playing with the hem of her gown again. He was suddenly very aware of just how good she felt in his arms, all warm and soft and sweet-smelling, and his horns gave an eager little pulse as his cock responded, already hungry for more.

“Um, about working off my debt…” Her voice trailed off and he had to suppress an unexpected spike of anger. He found that he didn’t want her pleasuring him as a way to gain her freedom. The only thing that stopped him from making a harsh response was the memory of just how much she’d enjoyed it. He’d seen her nipples harden and had caught the sweet scent of her arousal. It had not been one-sided and remembering the doctor’s words, he wondered if that was why she had cried.

“I don’t want an unwilling partner,” he said, and perhaps his anger was not as controlled as he imagined because this time she did flinch.

“I’m not unwilling,” she said bravely, if somewhat untruthfully, as her eyes came to his. “We made a bargain and I knew what it meant. I just want to know if it’s true that I, that we…” her hand touched her stomach “…could eventually be free?”

He found himself on the horns of a dilemma. It was true that slaves on Sherae could work off their purchase price. The amount of time it took depended on the price and their skill level, but five years was about average. However, given the extravagant price he had paid for her, it would take her the rest of her life. The cost wasn’t the issue. He could just free her, but aside from the not unimportant consideration that he really didn’t want to let her go, what would she do if she was freed? His gaze dropped to her stomach, remembering the doctor’s words. The Sheraens were decent people but no race was perfect and there were always ones who would take advantage of a beautiful, defenseless female.

“Do you have any skills?” he asked.

Once again, she flushed. “Not really. I only just graduated—with a degree in Hospitality Management of all things. I have two younger sisters and three younger brothers, so I always helped out at home rather than getting a job.” Her eyes filled with tears, but she didn’t let them fall. “Giving blow jobs is probably the only skill I have now,” she finished bitterly.

“Blow job?”

“What we just did.” She gestured at his cock. “Master made sure I learned.”

“Master?” he asked cautiously.

“My first owner. He was…not nice.”

A rush of anger filled him on her behalf. As soon as he found the accursed planet destroyer, he would find the fucking Derian that had tortured her and make him pay. He forced the anger away. The more immediate concern was her question and how he was going to answer it. Perhaps there was a way to fulfill both their needs.

“Yes, a slave can work her way free,” he said finally, and her face lit up.

“Really? How long will it take?”

“About the length of time that I will be on this planet,” he lied. He had planned to leave after meeting with Athtar, but really, he had nowhere else he needed to be. The next meeting of the Senate wasn’t for several more months. He could stay here while Athtar investigated and work on finding her a suitable position to occupy after he left, one where she and the child would be safe. “But I meant what I said about not wanting an unwilling partner. You must come to me.”

She bit her lip and nodded, and he had a stroke of genius. “You said you assisted with your household?”

“Yes. Why?”

“My steward, Marious, needs assistance. He is forever bothering me with questions that I have neither the knowledge nor the inclination to answer. Since I doubt that our agreement will consume your every waking hour, you can also work with him to make sure that the debt is paid.”

Her cheeks were bright red now, but she nodded.

“Shall we seal our bargain with a kiss?”

She hesitated.

“Only if you are willing. Did you enjoy kissing me?”

“Yes,” she whispered shyly. “I liked it very much.”

Slowly lowering his head, he watched for any signs of fear, but all she did was lick her lips. When he pressed his against them, they were warm and damp and welcoming. He took his time, nibbling slowly at her full bottom lip, teasing the entrance to her mouth until she gasped and opened for him. Even then he forced himself to keep the kiss light, although he could taste himself mixed with her natural sweetness and he wanted nothing more than to plunge into those tempting depths. His patience paid off as her tongue shyly reached for his. When he retreated, she followed, slowly entering his mouth. He sucked gently, and she moaned, twisting around so that the lush mounds of her breasts and the firm warmth of her stomach pressed against him. His cock was rock hard again and his horns pulsed, but he raised his head. It took a moment before her eyes fluttered open.

“Why did you stop? I mean, you didn’t have to.” Her cheeks were pink, and she looked adorably confused.

“That’s what I mean by a willing partner.”

“Oh.” A shy smile crossed her face. “I’m willing to do that some more.”

He was tempted, very tempted, but he couldn’t help remembering her tears and decided to take it slowly. Lifting her to her feet, he tried not to wince as her ripe ass brushed across his aching cock. From the fresh wave of color that crossed her face, she was equally as conscious of his erection, but she didn’t say anything.

“Now, I’m going to call Marious. You can take care of the new questions that have undoubtedly risen since this morning and then arrange for our dinner.” After a quick glance out the window, he added. “At sunset. On our balcony.” Then he leaned close enough that her lips parted, and whispered, “clothing optional.”

Satisfied with her soft gasp, he moved to the com panel to call his steward.

Chapter Seven

Deb snuck a glance at Marious, only to find him doing the same. She was accompanying him to the kitchens where she was supposed to arrange for her dinner with the prince. A prince and apparently an heir to some kind of galactic empire. It was all rather overwhelming. Rastrath had sent her off with Marious, telling the other man that she was fully empowered to act on his behalf. The steward had simply nodded but she couldn’t help wondering what he was thinking. The silence was growing increasingly uncomfortable, so she finally ventured a question.

“Um, have you known Prince Rastrath for a long time?”

“Oh no, mistress. He arrived for the first time only two weeks ago.”

“The first time?”

“Yes. He’s never been to inspect the palace before.” The man looked troubled, his fins flaring.

“But isn’t it his palace?”

“Oh yes. When the King died, all of his property passed to Prince Rastrath since he had no other heirs.”

“The King? I thought there was an Emperor?”

“King Nayander was the ruler of Sherae. Prince Rastrath is the rightful heir and he should be King Rastrath but so far he has refused to accept the title and has left the Parliament to act in his absence.” There was a definite note of disapproval in the man’s voice. “But this is just one planet. Emperor Karthajin is the ultimate ruler of the Kaisarian Empire.”

“Wow.” Planetary kings and galactic empires. Her mind spun, and she forced it back to her more immediate questions. “How long ago did King Nayander die?”

Marious sighed. “Almost two years ago.”

“And Rast… Prince Rastrath hasn’t been here since then?”

“No, mistress.” His fins flared again. “The people are uneasy. It is bad enough—” He stopped abruptly and paled. “Forgive me, mistress. Please don’t repeat that.”

“I will keep whatever you say between us,” she promised.

After a brief hesitation, he continued. “It is somewhat…challenging that Prince Rastrath is not entirely Sheraen.”

“He’s part Sheraen?” Her mouth dropped open as she studied the man walking beside her. She could see no resemblance between Rast, with his red skin and his size and his horns, and this normal sized man with yellow skin and fins.

“One half Sheraen,” he confirmed. “Aside from his hair and his eyes, I am told that he resembles his mother. Kaisarian blood is very dominant.”

An uneasy feeling swept over her. Would her child come out with Master’s angry red eyes, with his sharp yellow teeth and claws? It doesn’t matter, she thought and patted her stomach. I’ll love you anyway.

Marious’ eyes had followed the movement. “Is your child human?”

“No. She’s half Derian.”

“I see.” There was a moment of silence. “So, she too, will be of half-blood.”

“Yes. Is that a problem?” she asked, suddenly protective not only of her child but, rather surprisingly, of Rastrath.

“No, mistress. It is…unusual. Most species cannot interbreed. However, we are an accepting race; it is just difficult to deal with the unknown.”

“But surely Rast…Prince Rastrath was here as a child? Didn’t you get to know him then?”

“We knew of him. King Nayander made sure of that. However, we had never laid eyes on him until two weeks ago.”

“He never even met his father?”

“No, mistress.”

Her hand instinctively went to her stomach again. She prayed that her baby would never meet her father, either, but it was for the baby’s sake. Had Rastrath’s father been as bad? Before she could ask any more questions, they arrived at the kitchens.

The enormous space was divided into several large rooms, separated by pink coral arches, all opening to an exterior courtyard along the outside wall. The place was a bustle of activity with a variety of species doing everything from chopping to kneading to stirring the large pots suspended over the open range. Other than a small section equipped with a variety of metal devices, it bore a startling resemblance to a medieval kitchen. Her heart sank as she took in the number of non-Sheraens present.

“Are they all slaves?”

Marious looked startled but nodded. “Most of them are slaves or former slaves. Many of them choose to stay on as palace staff once their contracts are paid.”

Although it was reassuring to hear yet again that freedom was possible, it still bothered her that these seemingly civilized people accepted slavery so easily. “Why do you purchase them to begin with?”

“We need workers,” Marious said matter of factly. “Our birth rate is low and many of our citizens prefer intellectual pursuits to physical labor.” He darted a quick glance at her. “I assure you that they are not mistreated. We follow or exceed all Imperial laws regarding slavery.”

“There are laws regarding slaves?” Her mouth dropped open at his casual statement.

“Of course. All slaves are to be adequately fed, housed, and clothed. They must be permitted to receive medical attention and they are not to be abused.”

A bitter laugh escaped. “That has not been my experience.”

His ear fins flapped helplessly, and she sighed. It wasn’t his fault. Pasting an insincere smile on her face, she changed the subject. “You wanted to introduce me to the cook?”

The sun was just beginning to sink, the low rays sparkling across the water in a glittering array, when Deb finished the final touches on dinner. What Rastrath had called a balcony, she would have referred to as a courtyard. The space formed the heart of Rastrath’s quarters and was large enough for several seating areas, two dining areas, and a water feature that flowed down the wall and across the pink stone floor to pool in an ornate basin before splashing over the edge and descending to the sea below. With a profusion of flowering containers and a sweeping view out over the ocean, it was an enchanting area.

She had chosen to arrange the meal in the small dining area that projected out over the rocks below and was covered with a trellis supporting a flowering vine. Now she studied the single place setting and bit her lip. He had said dinner for two and there was plenty of food in the covered dishes, including the items recommended for her by the doctor, but she knew that it was not customary for slaves to eat with their masters. Master B’tal had allowed her presence at one banquet and she had spent the entire time kneeling at his feet, fighting back nausea from not only her pregnancy, but the sight of his notion of delicacies.

“There you are, sweetheart.” Rast’s deep voice sounded behind her and sent a little shiver of excitement up her spine. Slowly she turned to face him and watched as his eyes widened in obvious appreciation. After the visit to the kitchens, Marious had accompanied her to the seamstress, assuring her that Prince Rastrath would want her to be properly dressed. Determined to fulfill her part of the bargain and show him that she was willing, she had chosen a gown in a deep burgundy. The fabric fell in deep pleats from her shoulders to her feet, but it was very sheer and as soon as she moved, flashes of skin appeared.

As she walked towards him, his eyes went to her breasts and the combination of his appraisal and the soft fabric whispering across them had her nipples hardening immediately. When she reached him, she started to kneel, but he stopped her. “No. I do not want you kneeling in my presence.”

“I’m sorry, mas—” She stopped the instinctive response. “I’m sorry, Rast.”

“There. That wasn’t so hard was it?” He really had a charming smile, despite the horns and dark arched brows that gave him such a demonic look. “Now give me a kiss.”

Her feet were slightly swollen, so she’d chosen not to wear shoes. She went up on tiptoes, but he still had to bend down to reach her. Once again, he teased her, kissing her slowly until she was the one wanting more, chasing after his tongue until he took over and plunged deeply, wonderfully, into her mouth. Her breasts ached, demanding more, and she rubbed them against his chest, delighting in the friction, as she clung to him.

He cupped one of the needy mounds, squeezing gently, and she moaned into his mouth and pushed against his hand, wanting more. He gave it to her, tightening his grasp, then moving to her nipple to tug on the distended peak, sending shockwaves of excitement straight to her clit. She moaned again, and he lifted his head. Before she could protest the end of the kiss, his mouth closed over her nipple, the wet heat shocking through the thin fabric that still covered her. More waves of pleasure swept over her and she grabbed his head, desperate for more of that gentle suction. Her fingers slid into the heavy silk of his hair, and then she felt the hard warmth of his horns and the faint edge of his teeth.

How could she have forgotten that he wasn’t human? He hadn’t hurt her, not even remotely, but she was suddenly all too aware that he could. All the times she had been abused in the past, her breasts bitten and clawed, rushed over her and she froze, her body going rigid. Rastrath instantly lifted his head and studied her face. “Did I hurt you, sweetheart?”

“No,” she said, but she could hear her voice trembling. She took a deep breath and tried again. “No, you didn’t hurt me. Please continue.”

“Hm. I don’t think so.” Moving very slowly, he started to stroke her arms, hands warm and comforting on her suddenly cold flesh. Her panic eased, and she felt ashamed. Dammit. She couldn’t risk a chance of freedom because of her memories.

“Really. I’m fine.” Determined to continue, she grabbed his hands and brought them back to her breasts. Somewhat to her surprise, they still felt good, but more comforting than arousing. She put her hands over his, urging him to squeeze the overflowing flesh, to resume his actions, but he gently removed his hands and pulled her close instead. She wasn’t sure what he wanted her to do, but he simply held her, waiting until the warmth of his body and the soft susurrus of the ocean in the background eased her tension and she relaxed against him.

“That’s better.” He dropped what felt like a kiss on the top of her head.

“I’m sorry, mas…Rast. I’ll try to do better.”

“There’s no hurry, sweetheart.” He headed for the table but kept his arm around her in a way that felt oddly date like. As if you could have a date with a demonic looking alien who had bought you from a slave trader.

“Why isn’t there a place for you?” He was frowning at the table and her stomach fluttered.

“I…I didn’t know if you would want me to eat with you.”

“I said dinner for two,” he reminded her, but he didn’t look angry. “Do I need to call for a servant?”

“No, I have more dishes.” Slipping free of his arm, she went to get another place setting.

Rastrath leaned back and sipped his wine, studying the woman across the table. She was watching the last remnants of the sunset, faint streaks of rose and gold that lingered above the horizon and reflected on the water. As the sun had set, the night had cooled and now her nipples thrust impudently against the thin gown. His mouth watered as remembered the feel of her lush breasts, overflowing even his large hands, as he sucked on the tantalizing nubs. He couldn’t remember the last time he had wanted a woman this badly.

It wasn’t just her luscious body, although it was undeniably tempting, he thought as his gaze wandered down over the gentle swell of her stomach to round hips perfect for his hands. She had been an entertaining dinner companion, quick-witted and thoughtful with a sly sense of humor which emerged as she relaxed. Perhaps most of all, her bravery in the face of her fear and her determination to overcome it so that she could provide for her child, tugged at him. He watched as she caressed her stomach and felt a sudden fierce jealousy for such a fortunate child.

He couldn’t imagine his mother ever making such a loving gesture. In fact, he suspected that she would have happily aborted him if his grandfather hadn’t found out that she was pregnant before she had the chance. His grandfather wasn’t about to pass up the chance to improve his position by adding another heir to their House. The fact that his father was Sheraen had been unfortunate, but at least he had been a king and that was enough for the old bastard.

“What are you thinking about?” He looked up to see that she was no longer watching the sunset but studying him, instead.

“My grandfather,” he answered honestly.

“Is he still around?”

“No, he died several years ago.”

“I’m sorry. Were you close?”

Did being summoned to the old man’s study once a week for lessons in how a prince should behave count as close? But at least he’d been interested in Rastrath, and to a boy who was ignored or bullied by everyone else, it had been a welcome change.

“Not exactly. He wasn’t the type to allow anyone close to him.” He intended to stop there, but found himself adding, “At least he paid attention to me. I think he even might have cared for me in his own way.”

“What about your father? Was he really Sheraen?”

“Gossiping?” he asked sarcastically, but when she flushed, he softened his tone. “Yes, he was. He came to the Imperial Court on business and had a short, torrid affair with my mother. I was the result. Is it so hard to believe?”

“You don’t look like a Sheraen. You must take after your mother.”

“Ah, but not as far as the Kaisarians are concerned. My skin isn’t red enough, my hair isn’t dark enough, and my eyes are blue. These are all failings.”

“That’s ridiculous. You’re very attractive.” Her cheeks flamed. “I’m sorry.”

“For thinking I’m attractive? Don’t be.”

Their eyes met and everything else faded away, until he was drowning in those big dark eyes. His body hardened as he felt the heat flare between them, but he held his position, waiting for her to rise, waiting for her to come to him, waiting for her to put her hand in his, waiting until she whispered, “I’m willing.”

Chapter Eight

Rastrath fought down the immediate urge to sweep her up in his arms and carry her off to bed. “Are you sure, sweetheart?”

“Yes.” Then she bit her lip and his heart plummeted. As much as he wanted her, he was not going to force her. But she only added, “Could we go slowly?”

“Of course.” He gave a relieved laugh. “Come, my beauty.”

With the sunset, small lamps had come on in his bedroom, their golden light shimmering on the silk coverlet and highlighting the delicate tracery of the canopy. He paused next to the bed. “Will you remove your gown?”

“Yes, mas…Rast.”

Despite his attempt to keep his face calm, he knew she could read his disappointment, because she put a soothing hand on his arm. “I’m sorry. I know I keep saying that, but it was trained into me.”

“I don’t want you here because you think you have to be.”

“I know. That’s not it.” Her eyes flicked away from him but before he could pursue the subject, she unfastened the gown and all rational thought left him.

Her creamy skin glowed in the soft light, all ripe, tempting woman. Heavy breasts with long dark nipples, that gloriously fertile stomach, full hips and long curved legs—she was perfect. His horns throbbed in time with his heartbeat, while the blood rushed to his cock with a speed that left him dizzy. She stepped closer, pressing every inch of warm naked flesh against him and pulled his head down for a kiss. He couldn’t be as patient this time, but she didn’t seem to mind, returning his kiss with a fervor that had them both breathless when he finally raised his head.

He lifted her onto the bed, taking a moment to admire the vision she made, dark hair spread across the pillows, lush body soft and welcoming, her legs parted just enough that he could see the moisture glistening on the those tempting pink folds. Her eyes flew to his cock as he stripped off his pants and she licked her lips. For a dreadful moment he thought he would come just from that heated look, as if he were fourteen again, receiving his first training from a palace courtesan. He took a deep breath and climbed in next to her, almost afraid to touch her pale, silky flesh.

Reminding himself to take his time, he stroked her. He started with her arms, long soothing strokes, before tracing her fragile collarbone, and finally moving down to gently caress her breast. He circled the soft mound, gradually moving inward, but as he approached her aureole, he felt a slight ridge. When he looked closer, he could see a jagged red line surrounding the rosy flesh.

“What happened here, sweetheart?”

Her body tensed, and he immediately cursed himself for bringing it up. He resumed the soft circles while he waited for her to respond. When she finally answered, her voice was completely flat. “Master didn’t get me to the medic soon enough. He liked to make me bleed, but he wanted a fresh start each time, so he usually tossed me to the medics when he was done so they could patch me up. That time he passed out for too long and they couldn’t remove the mark.” He had to pull his hand away so it wouldn’t frighten her as it curled into a fist. “I heard he killed one of them as a result. I was glad.”

“Oh, sweetheart.” Unable to continue, he rolled to his back and very gently tucked her into his side. No wonder she’d panicked when his mouth was on her breast earlier. How could he continue when she’d been through so much? After a minute, she snuggled closer, but he didn’t make another move, and she finally raised her head to look at him.

“Rast? Why are you stopping?”

“I think we had better wait.”

“No! I’m fine. I can do this. I want to do this. Please don’t let him be the only thing I remember.”

“Sweetheart, I’m really not sure—”

“Don’t you want me?” She tugged on his hand, trying to bring it back to her breast with an almost frantic urgency.

“More than you possibly know. But are you sure, Deb?”

“Yes.” Again, he worried that she looked more determined than aroused but she was definitely determined. A breeze whispered through the room and he caught the delicate fragrance of her arousal, even sweeter than the flowers, reassuring him that at least part of her wanted this. His cock had softened a little with his concern, but she wiggled against him and it surged back to life.

Not quite sure if he was being selfish or saintly, he started over again, resuming the long slow strokes up her arms. He circled her breasts, but didn’t linger, moving down to caress the surprisingly firm mound of her stomach before parting her legs. While his fingers eased along the silky slit, he kissed her neck, discovering the places that made her shiver with delight and her hips arch into his hand. He wanted to taste her, to use his mouth to pleasure her, but it was like crossing a minefield, not sure when a painful memory would explode.

“Deb,” he whispered.

“Mm?” Perfect, her voice was dazed with pleasure.

“May I use my mouth on you?”

“You mean…” To his astonishment, she blushed and turned her face away. “No one’s ever done that before.”

“No one?”

“Well, you know college boyfriends tend to be little too impatient for that kind of thing.”

“Then I shall be the first.” A surprisingly primal feeling of satisfaction rolled over him as he moved down her body. He liked the feeling that he would be the first to pleasure her this way a little too much. Pushing the disturbing thought away, he let himself be distracted by the pretty pink flesh between her legs. The bare folds looked curiously vulnerable and he stroked a finger over the silky skin of her mons.

“Humans have no hair here?”

“We usually do. My best friend dared me into getting laser treatments to have it removed. It’s supposed to make you more sensitive but I didn’t notice much of a—” Her voice stuttered to a stop as he licked all that bare, pink skin with one long swipe of his tongue. “Oh. Now I see.”

Mm, she tasted delicious and he repeated the move, lapping at the tiny entrance to her channel to catch every drop. Her clit started to peek from its hood, and he nudged it gently. When her legs squeezed his head, he couldn’t help smiling but he used his hands to hold her open so that he could reach every inch of sweet damp flesh. As he touched her thighs, he felt more ridges and remembered the doctor had mentioned scarring. But she didn’t flinch, so he merely kept his hands gentle as he spread her legs and look another long, delicious taste.

“I was right, you do have a sweet little cunt.” Before she could respond, he slid his tongue into the tight channel, so tight that he could barely enter her. Her passage fluttered around his tongue and he ground his hips against the bed, so hard it was actually painful. But she needed to come before he entered her, so he reluctantly left the enticing depths and focused on her clit. Very gently, he sucked on the swollen flesh. Her hips arched and her hands went to his head. She hesitated for a tiny second when she encountered his horns, but then she grabbed on to them, using them to pull him closer. His eyes rolled back at the pleasure of her touch but he forced himself to concentrate on her instead.

“Do you like that, sweetheart?”

Remembering the previous day, he kept his touch feather light, barely grazing the exposed nub. Her legs thrashed but she wasn’t trying to escape, only to get closer. He alternated between teasing flutters of his tongue and tiny sucks while she clenched his horns, the firm pressure driving his arousal almost as high as hers. When her body stiffened and arched into his mouth, he slid one finger into her and sucked her whole clitoris into his mouth. She exploded with an almost pained cry, her cunt clamping down on his finger so tightly that he shuddered in anticipation. He kept licking gently, extending her climax through a series of tiny shocks until at last, her body softened and relaxed.

Desperate for relief, he gave her clit a quick kiss, then moved up her body. When he rose over her, she stiffened, her eyes widening, and he realized he’d encountered another mine. Before her fear took over, he rolled to his back, taking her with him so that she was sprawled over his body, his aching cock trapped between them. He stroked her back, then slid his hand down to cup her luscious ass.

“Are you ready, sweetheart?” he whispered.

Raising her head to look at him, she bit her lip but nodded. He studied her—she looked nervous but not afraid. Her cheeks were still flushed, her eyes heavy with arousal, and he could feel the hard points of her nipples against his chest. Too impatient to wait any longer, he lifted her hips over his cock. He moved her gently back and forth, coating his shaft in her slickness and teasing her clit with each stroke, until at last, at last, he thought she was ready. The pointed tip of his cock slid almost easily into her tiny entrance but they both gasped. He wanted to close his eyes to fully enjoy the exquisite sensation, but he kept his gaze trained on her face as he very slowly pressed deeper.

She was tight, almost too tight, but although her eyes widened, she still didn’t seem afraid, so he kept going. With a level of self-control he never knew he possessed, he suppressed his urge to simply thrust into her and maintained the slow, steady pace until finally, he was completely buried. This time his eyes did close as he relished the hot, wet grip of her delicious cunt, drawing on more of that control as he waited for her body to adjust. She made a slight sound and his eyes flew open to find her biting her lip again. For a heart-rending minute he was afraid that he had misjudged and caused her pain, but then she whimpered again and wiggled her hips and he realized that she was equally aroused.

“Do you want to move, sweetheart?”

Her cheeks flamed but she braced herself on his shoulder and tentatively rocked her hips. They both groaned as the movement caused him to slide out a few inches. She pushed back down, harder than he would have done, before lifting up again. Even the incremental movement sent waves of pleasure shooting through his body, but he wanted more. He gently urged her up until she was sitting astride him, the position forcing him even deeper into her luscious cunt. She looked breathtaking in the soft light that accented every ripe curve. Once again, she started her tentative movements, gradually raising her body higher before sliding back down over him, each descent a slow exquisite slide. The speed of her movements gradually increased until she was rocking almost frantically. He tightened his hands on the sheets and held on, his horns throbbing relentlessly.

“Please,” she gasped, a pleading look in her eyes. He grasped her hips carefully and took over, setting a demanding rhythm that had her back arching and her cunt tightening, until at last, she gave an almost shocked cry of pleasure and convulsed around him.

As soon he felt her come, he finally released his control and thrust wildly, ecstasy shooting up his spine as he exploded, sending jet after jet of seed into her heated depths. Her cunt rippled around him once more before her body turned limp and she collapsed down into his shoulder, already half asleep. He put his arms around her, stroking her back as he waited for his pulse to slow, filled with an unexpected contentment. Holding her tight, he followed her into sleep.

Chapter Nine

Deb awoke with Rast’s body wrapped around her, a little shocked that she was still here. She’d awoken during the night and tried to slip out of bed, certain that it wasn’t proper for her to stay, but he’d pulled her back with a sleepy protest and she fallen back asleep. Now she snuggled back against him with a contented sigh, but unfortunately, her brain was awake, and the memory of the previous evening came flooding back. She hadn’t lied to him; she had been willing to have sex with him, to pleasure him. She just hadn’t expected him to insist on pleasuring her as well. But he had, so well that her pussy gave a gentle throb just at the memory.

It wasn’t as if she was a virgin but neither her high school boyfriend, nor any of the guys she had dated in college had ever made her feel like that, had made her climax with such intensity. But no matter how kind, how gentle, how thorough he had been, he was her owner, her master, and she was just a slave. A wave of nausea rolled over her and she scrambled desperately out of bed, racing for the bathroom. Pausing only to slap the com panel and yell for the doctor, Rast followed her, supporting her body and holding her hair as she retched violently.

When the retching finally subsided, he lowered her to the cool floor before using a damp cloth to wipe her face and cleanse her mouth. “Gods dammit, you’re supposed to be better. What is that fool doctor thinking?”

“That fool doctor is thinking that you should let me examine my patient and find out.” Dr. Mako’s cool voice sounded slightly amused.

Rast immediately placed himself between Deb and the doctor. “Get out. She’s not clothed.”

The doctor looked a little startled, but he retreated. Rast pulled out a robe and wrapped it around her. It was obviously one of his and far too big, but it carried his clean ocean scent and she snuggled into the comfort it provided. Damn it. He was not her comforter, he was her owner. She needed to remember her place.

“I’m sorry, master,” she said, and he drew back as if she had slapped him.

“I thought we were past that.”

“I really think it would be more appropriate, master.” She kept her head down.

“Very well.” Despite the stiffness in his voice, his hands were gentle as he helped her to her feet. He escorted her back to the bedroom where the doctor was waiting. “Do you want me to stay?”

She did, desperately, but she shook her head. An owner didn’t need to be present while a slave was examined. He didn’t say a word, just yanked his pants on and stalked out of the room.

To her relief, the doctor didn’t perform another physical exam. Instead he took another painless blood sample and asked her a few questions. When he finished, he studied her face for a few minutes in silence.

Fear caused her to speak first. “Is the baby all right?”

“Yes, he’s fine.”

“He?”

The doctor looked a little abashed. “I apologize, I forgot that you hadn’t been informed. The scan was quite clear, you’re having a boy.”

Her eyes filled with tears and she suddenly hated the fact that she’d sent Rast away. She wished he’d been here to share the news with her.

“Child, what’s really wrong? Your bloodwork is fine. I believe it was emotion rather than illness that led to the attack.”

“Shouldn’t I be emotional?” she asked bitterly. “I’m a pregnant slave on an alien planet who’ll never see her family again.”

“But you want this child, do you not?”

“Yes, very much.” She stroked her stomach. “I’m going to start a new family with him.”

“Then you must stop worrying about things you cannot change. A happy mother means a healthy baby.”

“That’s easy for you to say. I’m the one who’s a slave.”

“Yes, child, I know. But I suspect you also know how much worse that could be. Prince Rastrath is very concerned for your welfare. Or is that the problem? That you like him more than you think you should?” Sharp eyes studied her face.

“Perhaps I do like him,” she admitted at last. “But how can I forget that he owns me? That one day he could get tired of me and cast me away?” She curled her arms around her stomach. “Cast us away?”

“I have studied him closely since he arrived. I think he is a good man and I don’t believe that he would abandon you without provisions for your care.”

Somehow, the words didn’t make her feel any better and her voice was still acerbic. “As good as his father? A man who never even bothered to see his own child?”

He sighed. “It’s rather more complicated than that. His father was desperately in love with his mother, but he was merely a diversion for her, so she rejected him and sent him away. When he heard of the child, he did try to see both her and the child, but the previous Emperor forbade it.”

“Really? Does Rast—does Prince Rastrath know about that?”

“I assumed he did.” The doctor looked startled. “He must know that his father never married. In spite of everything, she was the only woman he ever loved.”

“I’m almost positive that he doesn’t know. You should tell him.”

A slow smile crossed his face. “I was right. You do care for him.” He leaned forward and took her hands in his. “Child, just give him a chance. Let him take care of you. Be glad that you and your son are safe.”

“Count my blessings, you mean?”

“Exactly.”

After the doctor left, she sat for a long time staring out over the sea. Everything he said made sense. Her guilt served no purpose other than to upset her, which in turn upset her son. Her son, the only family she had now. This was her life now and she had to adapt. Perhaps there was nothing wrong with letting herself feel pleasure with Rast. She had agreed to give him anything he wanted and if he wanted her to be happy, she would try and be happy. Decision made, she went to look for Rast.

She finally found him at the swimming pool. A wide set of stairs that she hadn’t previously paid any attention to led off one corner of the balcony. At the bottom, only a few feet above the sea, a deep pool had been carved out of the coral. Rast was sitting on the side but she didn’t call out to him, preferring to talk to him face to face. While she was still making her way carefully down the stairs, he slipped into the water.

As she navigated the final flight, she realized that he hadn’t resurfaced. Cursing her precarious balance, she hurried down the last few stairs as quickly as possible. There was still no sign of him and when she raced over to the edge of the pool, she could see him lying motionless on the bottom. Oh, God. There was no one around to call for help, no life jacket, nothing except her. She wasn’t much of a swimmer, but she had to try.

Discarding the robe, she slid clumsily into the pool and immediately got a mouthful of water. She choked but coughed to clear her lungs and sucked in a determined breath before diving. The pool was deeper than it looked, and she had to fight the natural buoyancy of her pregnant body to make it down to him. Just as she touched him, his eyes flew open, and she gasped instinctively. Water once again invaded her lungs, but this time she had no way to clear them and she started flailing. Before she could panic any further, Rast gathered her into his arms, and raced for the surface, lifting her onto a shallow ledge at the edge of the pool, then kneeling beside her as she retched for the second time that morning. At least this time it was only seawater.

“Sweetheart, what were you thinking? Can’t you swim?”

The combination of her fright and his kind voice was too much, and she burst into tears. With a muffled sigh, he pulled her onto his lap and rocked her gently as she sobbed. “I thought you were dead,” she choked at last. “You were down at the bottom of the pool for so long and your eyes were closed, and you weren’t moving.”

“I’m fine. It’s part of my Sheraen side. Here, feel.” He guided her hands to ears and let her feel the long ridges that curved down from behind them. Even though they were barely visible, he shivered as she ran her fingers down them. “They act like gills so that I can breathe underwater.”

“Why didn’t you tell me? I was so scared.”

“Well, it hasn’t exactly come up,” he teased, but relented at the look on her face. “I’m sorry you were scared, sweetheart.”

He rocked her again and it felt so good that she pushed her worries aside. She was going to follow the doctor’s advice and live in the moment.

Gently, he urged her to lean back against the edge of the pool. The warm water lapped around her, making her feel light and buoyant. Then his head disappeared beneath the surface and she discovered there were definite advantages to a man who didn’t need to breathe underwater.

A considerable time later, they had moved to a canopied lounging pad next to the pool. She was nestled against his side as he stroked her back, feeling bonelessly content. He had made her come three times before he finally emerged from the water, but he had refused to let her reciprocate. Feeling guilty, she had started to protest but she’d remembered the doctor’s words and tried her best to let it go. Remembering the doctor’s other words, she raised her head to study him.

In the bright sunlight, she could see the faintest gold markings underlying his warm golden red skin. His hair was drying into a fiery cloud where the sun hit it and when he gave her a lazy glance, she was struck again by the brilliant blue of his eyes. The combination was devastatingly attractive, and it was hard to imagine that he had been rejected because of them. Remembering the way he moved so effortlessly through the water, she wondered if he wasn’t more at home here than he realized. Instead, he had rejected his heritage and she couldn’t help but wonder.

“Why haven’t you become King?”

Chapter Ten

Rastrath stared up at the endless blue sky. His first instinct was to laugh it off, but in the end, he went with the truth. “I wasn’t wanted here when he was alive. Why should I stay here now?”

“You’re going to say I was gossiping again, but Dr. Mako said that your father did want you. He said that the previous Emperor denied his petition.”

“What?” He sat up so quickly she started to slip from his arms. With a muttered apology, he brought her up with him. “Why didn’t he tell me?”

“He seemed to think that you knew. But you didn’t, did you?” Soft dark eyes studied his face.

“No.”

Unable to keep still, he made sure she was steady and climbed to his feet to pace back and forth across the stone. His father had actually wanted him? The cynical part of him insisted that he hadn’t made much of an effort, but he was only too familiar with how possessive the Royal House was about what they considered royal blood. They may have despised him, but he was still one of theirs. Emperor Balamajin might very well have refused to allow an outsider access to a royal heir.

“Does it matter that much?” Deb asked. Curled into the cushions, she watched him pace with a worried look.

He thought of all the times he’d been ostracized, taunted. How many times he’d wished that his father would come for him. “It matters.”

“Do you think he’ll feel the same way?” She studied her stomach now, arm cupped protectively over the firm mound. “I pray to God that he’ll never meet his father, but I don’t want him to feel that he is less because of it.”

With a sigh, he sat next to her, putting his arm over hers. “If my mother had cared one tenth as much for me as you do for your child, I suspect it wouldn’t have mattered anywhere near as much.”

“What do you mean?”

Too raw to go into further details, he changed the subject. “You said he. Does he feel like a boy today?”

“I forgot to tell you. Dr. Mako says the scan shows that he’s definitely a boy. Oh.” Her eyes widened. “I think he knows we’re talking about him. He’s moving. Feel.”

A hard little bump nudged his hand and he gave a startled laugh. A second bump followed the first and he looked up to find her watching him, a watery smile on her lips. A sudden and completely unexpected longing swept over him, that this was his child—by this woman. Foolishness. He would never subject a child to the curse of his own mixed heritage. Pushing the urge firmly aside, he rose again, bringing Deb with him. “Come along, sweetheart. Let’s get him fed.”

After their much-delayed breakfast, Marious appeared, his fins flapping nervously. “Forgive me, Your Highness. The trade merchants are here for the Fall Festival. It is traditional to give a banquet in their honor.”

“Then give it,” he said impatiently.

“Yes, Your Highness. Would you prefer the Blue Dining Hall or the Garden Chamber? The Blue Hall has the better view but with the weather becoming more uncertain as the season changes, perhaps the Garden Chamber would be less risky?”

“For God’s sake, I don’t know.”

Marious obviously forced back his exasperation. “Very well, Your Highness. Parliament will have their opening session next week. Will you attend?”

“No.”

Marious’ fins flapped again but he nodded. “Yes, Your Highness. Also, two exporters are here to discuss a contract for our Fru seed. Do you wish to participate in the negotiations?”

For a moment, he was tempted. He enjoyed the negotiations he conducted on behalf of his own trading companies. But then he shook his head. This was not his planet; he had no reason to get involved. “No.”

“Yes, Your Highness. Then there is the question of the laundry staff. The chief laundress has requested—”

“Enough,” he roared.

Deb had been following the conversation and her eyes widened at his outburst, a hint of fear crossing her face. Forcing himself to calm, he turned to Marious. “I have other duties today. Direct all of your questions to my…female.”

Anxious to get away from the pressing weight of expectations he had no intention of fulfilling, he rose to leave but turned back to her. “Dinner tonight. On the balcony again?”

When she blushed and nodded, he couldn’t resist stopping to press a kiss to her sweet pink lips before he strode out of the room.

The day dragged more than he had expected. He finished his list of contact information and sent it off to Athtar and then spent some time on his accounts, but they were doing almost too well and there was little for him to do. The contracts with the exporters would almost certainly be more interesting and he found himself wondering if the Sheraens had any negotiation skills. He didn’t want strangers taking advantage of his…of the people of this planet.

He also found himself missing Deb, and not only because his cock throbbed every time he thought about her. Here he was, the owner of a luscious pleasure slave with the sweetest, tightest cunt he’d ever had the pleasure to enter and instead of taking advantage of her willing body, he’d sent her off to deal with his household. Almost willing, he amended. He’d sent for Dr. Mako and the doctor had told him that he suspected her nausea had been brought about by her conflicted feelings over the pleasure she had received. While he couldn’t help but be gratified by her enjoyment, he didn’t want to add to her turmoil.

During the conversation with the doctor, he’d rather tentatively broached the subject of his father. Dr. Mako confirmed Deb’s story. “He tried to claim you, but the Emperor forbade it. Because he was not legally bound to your mother, he was told that didn’t have a valid claim.”

“I wonder if my mother knew.”

“You think that perhaps she urged the Emperor not to allow him any contact?”

A bitter laugh escaped before he could choke it back. “I believe that if my mother knew, she would have urged him to let my father take me.”

The doctor didn’t respond, merely watching him thoughtfully, and he found himself continuing. “She didn’t want me. Because it’s so rare for species to interbreed, she never even considered that she might be pregnant. Unfortunately for her, my grandfather guessed before she did and made sure that she could not make…alternate arrangements.”

“It is unfortunate. If you had been brought up here, you might have learned to care for your people.” He stood before Rastrath could respond. “And we are your people, no matter how different we may look. I would have thought that your upbringing would have taught you that outer appearances matter little.”

“Actually, they taught me that most people place a great deal of importance on appearance.”

“But you know just how wrong they are.” And with that parting shot, he slipped out of the study.

Several hours later, he found himself pacing the balcony and fighting down the urge to demand that Deb be brought to him immediately. As the sun began to set, he grew increasingly annoyed at both his own eagerness and her lateness. A member of the Royal House was never kept waiting. Yet when she finally rushed out to meet him, her eyes were scared, and he didn’t have the heart to reprimand her.

“I’m sorry, mas…Rast. Time got away from us and it took me a few minutes to change.”

Tonight, she was wearing blue silk, tied beneath her breasts to leave the ripe swell of her stomach bare above a low-cut pair of flowing pants, and his cock went rock hard.

“You are late,” he said stiffly, fighting the instinct to order her to her knees to satisfy his day long frustration. But when she dropped to her knees of her own accord, dark eyes big and tearful, he couldn’t do it.

“Please forgive me,” she whispered, reaching for his cock. It took every ounce of self-control that he possessed to catch her hands and draw her to her feet instead.

“You’re forgiven. But don’t let it happen again.”

“No, master. I mean, Rast. Oh God, I’m sorry, I’m making a mess of everything.” A tear broke through and he sighed and pulled her into his arms, wondering if he was a fool. He gave her a quick hug, trying to ignore just how good she felt pressed up against him, and led her to the table.

“Don’t cry, sweetheart. Did the chief laundress take up the whole day?”

“Oh, no, although meeting her was quite an experience. She was not at all what I expected. It’s the arrangements for the banquet that took so long.” She shot him an uncertain glance and he nodded for her to go on. As she launched into her account, he found himself unexpectedly interested. The merchants were all jockeying for an advantage, and everything from where they were seated to what they were served was a matter of grave concern. It reminded him of Imperial politics but on a smaller and much less cut-throat scale and he actually enjoyed going over the details with her. He made a few suggestions, but on the whole, he was impressed with how she had handled everything.

“You did very well, sweetheart.”

A pleased smile lit up her face. “Thank you. I just pretended I was dealing with my three youngest brothers. They argue over everything.”

He laughed. “I suspect the merchants are very similar to warring siblings.”

“Did you ever want a brother? Or a sister?”

“I have a half-brother,” he admitted.

“Really?”

“After my mother’s…fling with my father, she found herself a proper Kaisarian noble to marry. Unfortunately, she had to settle for one from one of the lower houses so Proctral is much further down the line of succession. He resents it.” That was somewhat of an understatement. Proctral loathed him with a fiery passion hotter than a supernova. Fortunately, he was younger, weaker, and rather remarkably unintelligent so he had to confine his loathing to cutting remarks and ineffective plots.

“That’s a shame. My brothers and sisters drive me crazy sometimes, but I love them. I always wanted a big family of my own.” Her hand went to her stomach. “But a small family is better than none.”

That same pang of longing he had felt by the pool reappeared, but he immediately dismissed it. He’d made his decision many years ago and wasn’t going to change it now.

“Then we must make sure you keep that family healthy,” he said lightly. “Off to bed with you now. An early night will do you good.”

“You don’t want to…have sex?”

Gods, did he want to. His horns pulsed at the thought. But while his body was screaming at him, he felt oddly tired and he didn’t think he could take tears or nausea tonight. “No.”

“I see.” She bit her lip, then rose gracefully and bowed her head. “Then I will bid you goodnight, Your Highness.”

At least it wasn’t master he thought bitterly as he watched her depart, ass swaying with a gentle rhythm that did nothing to distract his aching shaft. Cursing himself for a fool, he went to seek out a shower and the limited relief his hand would provide.

He had just entered the shower and taken himself in hand when he heard a soft gasp. He closed his eyes, his fingers still working his cock. “Sweetheart, I’m tired and extremely aroused. I don’t have the willpower to be patient tonight.”

“But…but our bargain.”

“Forget the fucking bargain. You can work off your debt by assisting Marious.” Fuck, he was insane. “I told you I didn’t want an unwilling partner.”

“I’m not unwilling,” she insisted.

“No, you just cry or vomit after we fuck.” The words came out harsher than he had intended but she responded before he could amend them.

“I don’t want to!”

Disappointment filled him, but he tried his best to keep his voice calm. “Exactly. So, let’s just forget the whole damn thing.”

“No, you don’t understand. I don’t want to cry; I just want to be normal.”

“You are normal, Deb.” He sighed. “You’ve been through a very traumatic experience. I just don’t think I’m the right person to help you through it.”

“But you are. You’ve been so sweet—”

“I told you. I don’t feel sweet tonight.”

“Then don’t be. Just fuck me the way you want to—the way we both want you to.”

Chapter Eleven

Deb forced herself to stand still when Rastrath finally raised his head and looked at her for the first time since she’d entered the bathroom. It had taken most of the courage she possessed to cross the balcony and enter his rooms. She hadn’t expected to find him naked in the shower, water highlighting every inch of lean defined muscle. It reminded her of their episode by the pool and her pussy throbbed.

When he told her that she could go, that she didn’t have to fulfill their bargain, she’d been forced to face the truth. The reason that she was here was because she wanted to be, because she liked this alien with his gentle hands and his haunted eyes, because she loved the way he made her feel. All through dinner, as they talked and ate and laughed, she had been conscious of a low thrum of arousal, of expectation, and she had been waiting for the moment when he turned to her. Instead, he had sent her away. No matter how much she’d told herself it was her duty, her desire had led her here and had made her blurt out the truth.

Because it was the truth. Not only did she want him, she wanted him to take her as if she were a normal woman with a normal woman’s desires for a strong, dominant man.

“Are you sure?” he asked. and her eyes dropped to where he was still stroking that amazing cock. “Because this is the last time I’m asking.”

“I’m sure.”

As soon as the words left her mouth, he was on her, pressing her against his wet body as he carried her to the bedroom, turning her clothing damp and translucent but it didn’t matter because he ripped it away with an ease that sent a tremor of fear up her spine. But he hadn’t hurt her, and it was easy to forget the fear as he kissed her, forcing her lips apart in a hard, demanding kiss that had her arching against him.

“Suck me,” he ordered. “I want to feel that hot little mouth take all of me.” She wanted to work her way down his body with teasing kisses, but his need was too great, and he urged her to her knees, groaning when she took him in her mouth. “Mm, that’s so good, sweetheart. I love seeing your lips stretched around my cock.” He put a hand on her throat, not squeezing, but holding her there as she swallowed him to the base. She started to lift a hand to caress the heavy weight of his balls, but he stopped her. “Hands down. I’m going to fuck your mouth the way I’ve wanted to all evening.”

With one hand on her throat and the other in her hair, he held her in place as he began to thrust, setting a demanding pace, but she still wasn’t afraid. His clean scent surrounded her, his hands were hard but not cruel, and blue eyes watched her face with hunger, not sadistic brutality. As his pace increased, so did her excitement and she reached for her breasts, trying to relieve the demanding ache.

“Good girl. Let me see you play with those luscious tits.” He sped up and so did she, squeezing frantically at her breasts as she searched for a climax that was just out of reach. Before she could find it, his body stiffened, and then he exploded down her throat in long jets of hot liquid as he called out her name.

He’d barely finished coming before he pulled her to her feet and pushed her back on the mattress, working her breasts almost as frantically as she had, sucking hard on one nipple while he tugged and rolled the other one. Again, he wasn’t gentle, and she felt the scrape of his teeth and demanding pinch of his fingers but she was too excited, too frantic with need to be scared. “More,” she demanded.

One thick finger slid between her legs and plunged into her slick channel with shocking ease. He groaned approvingly as he added another, and then a third, stretching her with a pleasant burn that had her writhing around him.

“Do you want my cock in this tight little cunt?”

“Oh, yes, please.”

“Good, because I’m going to fuck you now. I’m going to fuck you until I’m the only thing you can feel, the only thing you remember.” His big body rose over her and she trembled, but she focused on those blue, blue eyes as he removed his fingers and drove his cock inside her in one hard plunge. It wasn’t tentative, it wasn’t gentle, it was hard and possessive and wonderful, and she shattered around the demanding stretch with a fierce intensity that shook her whole body. Before she could catch her breath, he was thrusting, those amazing spiral veins dragging over each inch of her channel, touching places she hadn’t even known existed, forcing a second wave of excitement to wash over her until she cried out a second time and her muscles clenched, and he groaned and jerked inside her as he came in a heated rush.

He dropped down over her and somehow, she didn’t mind his weight, she didn’t feel trapped, only safe and warm, and she put her arms around him and hugged him tight. When he finally raised his head to look at her, his fierceness had faded, and the tender expression was back. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” she said, a little surprised to find that it was true. She didn’t feel guilty or dirty, just satisfied and sleepy.

“Let me get a cloth.”

“In a few minutes. Just hold me.” She tugged on his neck until he settled back over her.

“Anytime, sweetheart,” he whispered against her ear, causing a delicious shiver down her spine but exhaustion was overtaking her and before she could respond, she fell asleep.

Twice during the night, he woke her to take her again, not gently, but firmly and so thoroughly that by the time daylight peeked through the open windows she was sore, satisfied, and happier than she had been since before she was taken. And even before then, she thought idly, as she watched the reflections from the ocean start to play across the ceiling. She’d never been in a relationship with a human man who had made her feel so cared for, so satisfied. Relationship? Her brain immediately protested. This was not a relationship. He was her owner and she couldn’t forget that. Even if he kept his promise and freed her, it would be because he was leaving her behind.

But when Rastrath pulled her closer and kissed her good morning, it was all too easy to forget.

“Good morning, sweetheart. Did you sleep well?”

“When you let me.”

His eyebrows arched, making him look particularly demonic as he grinned down at her. “It’s your own fault for being so remarkably tempting.” He kissed her again, long and slow and delicious, and despite the undeniable soreness, her arousal flared. Just as he was teasing her nipples to aching peaks, the com panel sounded.

“Gods damn it,” he swore as he punched the panel to respond. “What now, Marious?”

“My apologies, Your Highness but I needed to ask Mistress Debra about the seating arrangements at the third table.”

Rast gave the panel an incredulous look, then burst into laughter. “I’m sorry, sweetheart, I seem to have passed my problems off to you a little too successfully.”

“I don’t mind, as long as you don’t.”

“Oh, I mind. I mind very much. I had plans for this morning.” As he pulled her closer, she winced slightly but his eyes sharpened. “Are you sore?”

“Perhaps a little,” she said with a nervous glance at the com panel.

“Then I suppose it’s just as well we were interrupted. Marious, send orders to the kitchens for breakfast to be delivered. You may bombard your mistress with your endless questions in—” He broke off and turned to her. “Will an hour be enough time for you to prepare, sweetheart?” She blushed and nodded. “In an hour, Marious.”

He disconnected before the steward could respond.

“Annoying man,” he said, looking for all the world like a pouty little boy. She wanted to smooth the furrow that had formed between his horns and nibble on his full lower lip.

“He may be annoying, but he’s kept this household running the best he can. He’s very loyal.”

“Perhaps.”

“You don’t believe that?”

He shrugged. “Let’s just say it hasn’t been my experience. The Imperial Palace is a sea of politics and even the servants are part of it. I learned that every smiling face usually had a knife behind their back.”

Sympathy tugged at her. The life of a royal prince didn’t sound very appealing. “That’s terrible. But it doesn’t feel like that’s true here.”

“If it is, it’s probably just because they’re all scared of me.” He said it dismissively, but she saw the sorrow in his eyes.

“If they’re scared of you, it’s because they don’t know you.” She gave into temptation and pulled his head down so she could suck on his lip before giving it a teasing bite. He returned the favor, the little sting sending a spike of excitement straight to her clit, and her lips parted. Taking full advantage of her response, he deepened the kiss, not raising his head until she was breathless and his eyes were full of blue fire. He pulled her closer but as he did, the baby gave a very definite kick, and they both jumped.

“It seems we are destined to be interrupted. Come on, sweetheart. Let’s feed the little one.”

As he helped her out of bed, her head spun, and she sat back down rather abruptly.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m fine just a little dizzy. And a little queasy.” She looked up in time to catch his expression. “Not because of you or anything we did last night. You gave me so much pleasure and…and it doesn’t upset me, not a bit. But I think I need to eat something.”

“Stay here. I’ll get a tray.”

“You’re going to serve me breakfast in bed? You can’t wait on me.”

The startlingly attractive, demonic smile swept over his face. “I can and will do anything that keeps you in my bed.”

Rastrath settled Deb back in bed with a mountain of pillows and left her there while he walked into the other room to check on breakfast. She looked much too delectable, still flushed and heavy-eyed, and he would really have preferred to crawl back in bed with her and lose himself in her delectable cunt. Instead, he was bringing her breakfast. A servant to his slave. The irony was not lost on him.

His words to her had been spoken in jest but they’d had an uncomfortable ring of truth. He wanted her, in his bed—and in his rooms, in his life. For right now, he forced himself to remember. He would never take her back to a world where she would be treated as a slave, but his duty demanded that he do everything in his power to prevent the planet destroyer weapon from being activated. As soon as Athtar finished his investigation, he would have to leave this planet, no matter how delightful, until the matter could be resolved. He would be returning to the Imperial Palace where he belonged. Well, not belonged exactly, but as his grandfather had so often reminded him, it was his birthright. He hadn’t let the constant sneers and slights drive him away before and he wasn’t going to abandon it now.

After a leisurely breakfast during which Deb recovered her composure, he accompanied her to the shower—purely to make sure she didn’t slip, of course. Since she walked a little gingerly and winced when he washed between her legs, he kept the shower much briefer and less erotic than would have been his first choice. After she dressed and went off with a deferential, but obviously impatient Marious, he considered his options for the day.

No urgent matters demanded his attention and he’d just sent his planned diversion off with his steward. Diversion? He shook his head. Even in the brief time they had been together, she had become so much more. And last night—last night they had truly come together. With that thought in mind, he sent for her papers and made the necessary arrangements. Once that was completed, he had a brief debate with himself, but in the end, he had a servant take him to the meeting with the exporters. He wasn’t sure who was more astonished when he entered, his staff or the two Ceekat traders who jumped to their feet and bowed deeply.

“Your Highness. We didn’t realize that you would be involved in the negotiations.”

“Just taking a look,” he said casually, and turned to his chief agent. “Have you agreed on a contract?”

“Yes, Your Highness. We were just about to sign it.” The man somewhat reluctantly handed it over. Rastrath scanned it rapidly. As he suspected, the Ceekats were taking shameless advantage of his—of the Sheraens.

“There appear to be a few mistakes.”

“Mistakes, Your Highness?”

“Yes. For example, the contract doesn’t specify the quality of the ojerron. If that’s not specified, we could receive lower quality ojerron which wouldn’t be of equivalent value to our Fru seed. Of course, I’m sure you would never make that mistake.” He nodded to the exporters who were trying to conceal their annoyance. “But still, best to have the details in writing, don’t you think?”

After receiving their begrudging agreement, he moved to the next item. “No, I’m afraid this won’t work, either. This timeline doesn’t take into account the gathering season.” He sighed heavily and slowly crumpled the document. The traders watched regretfully. “Shall we start again, gentlemen?”

Chapter Twelve

One week later, Rastrath regarded himself in the mirror and wondered what had happened to his plan to spend a few quiet weeks on a secluded planet while he waited for news from Athtar. Now he was dressed in Sheraen ceremonial robes, about to attend the opening of Parliament. Because of Deb assisting Marious with palace affairs, he heard many of the details each evening and, just as with the export negotiations, he found himself becoming at first interested, then involved. A lifetime of Imperial politics left him well equipped to understand the far more restrained maneuvering that comprised Sheraen politics.

At least the robes were comfortable, a far cry from Kaisarian ceremonial garments. Flowing blue silk pants were topped with a matching sleeveless robe, darker blue embroidery edging all of the hems. The only additional adornments were a heavily embroidered belt and an elaborate chain. He had refused the crown.

“You look amazing,” Deb said from behind him. He turned to see her eying him appreciatively, but his own gaze was just as admiring.

“As do you, sweetheart.” Her gown was an even paler blue, gathered beneath her increasing bountiful breasts with an embroidered belt before flowing over the burgeoning swell of her stomach. She looked ripe and luscious, glowing with health.

“Thank you. Although I still don’t think I should be accompanying you.”

“I do,” he said firmly. It was one of the two conditions he had put on attending. The other that he was there in his capacity as a prince of the Royal House, not as King of Sherae. He gave her what she called his demon smile. The word didn’t translate but he suspected it was not entirely flattering. “Besides, you got me into this, you can suffer through it as well.”

“But I’m your slave.”

“You’re not—” He shook his head. “I want you there and you’re coming.”

She gave him the shy smile that was appearing more and more frequently these days. Since the night when she came to him, she seemed more content. The doctor’s diet was working, although she still had episodes of weakness and nausea. Rastrath had told Marious in no uncertain terms to watch out for any signs that she was not feeling well and to make sure that she was comfortable. His steward had rather indignantly assured him that he would never let any harm come to Mistress Debra.

Another extremely pleasant side effect of the improved diet was that not only had her face lost that fragile quality, but her body had filled out as well, already abundant breasts becoming ripe and overflowing in his hands. The experience of sinking into all that lush warmth kept getting better. But almost as much as he enjoyed sinking into the wet heat of her delectable cunt, he enjoyed holding her, her child cradled between them as he moved to his own rhythms. He found himself beginning to hope that Athtar’s investigation took longer than expected so that he could stay here with her and meet the child who pressed so insistently against him each night.

“Are you ready, sweetheart?” He held out his hand.

“Shouldn’t I walk behind you?”

“No. I want you at my side.” For as long as possible.

Deb sank back in the chair with a sigh of relief. The opening of Parliament had been interesting —for the first hour. After that, the speeches and the pageantry became a blur and she had to fight to keep her eyes open and a smile on her face. None of it seemed to bother Rast, but she supposed he was used to such things. For all his reluctance to get involved, he was a natural leader and she could see that both he and the Sheraens were becoming more comfortable with each other. Fortunately, when they finally took a break, he took one look at her and sent her back to their rooms with a kiss and an apology.

Now, her fingers traced her mouth reminiscently. He was so sweet to her, she almost didn’t mind being a slave. Whoa. Where had that thought come from? No matter how kind he was, no matter how much he pleasured her body, she couldn’t live the rest of her life as a slave. More importantly, neither could her son. As if in response, the baby kicked, and she patted her stomach soothingly. Rastrath had promised that she could work off her debt by the time he left, and she was determined to do so. In truth, it wasn’t a hardship. He was an amazing lover, demanding but never cruel, and he seemed to delight in making her come as much as he enjoyed his own orgasms.

“Mistress, Prince Rastrath sent me to bring you some tea and to see if you need assistance removing the gown.” T’lik appeared as silently as usual, a silver tray perched on her lower arms.

“Thank you, T’lik.” The Scraak female had become her regular attendant and she enjoyed the company of the shy servant. “I must admit, I’m not as flexible as I used to be.”

With only a slight struggle, she rose to her feet and accompanied T’lik to her room. More like her wardrobe, she thought, since all she did here was store her clothes. Rast wanted her with him every night and even if she napped during the day, he preferred that she do it in his bed. Perhaps she should consider turning it into a nursery…No, that was a ridiculous thought. Once Rastrath left, she would no doubt have to find something small and affordable.

Affordable. The thought stopped her in her tracks. She had been so focused on the idea of freedom that she hadn’t really considered the practicalities. If he left before she gave birth, who would hire an extremely pregnant human female? Would Marious still want her assistance? She thought he appreciated her but what if he was only working with her because of Rastrath? For the first time, she considered what her life would become, and a wave of dizziness swept over her. T’lik was there immediately to support her and help her to a chair.

“What’s wrong, mistress?”

“I’m just dizzy. I…” A thought hit her as she studied the other woman. T’lik would soon be in the same position. What if they pooled their resources? “Are you planning on staying here once you are freed?”

“Oh, yes, mistress. If I leave, I’m afraid I would be enslaved again.”

“Don’t you want to go home?”

“No. I have the ability to lay eggs, so I would be forced to do so.”

“You’re a queen?” Deb stared at her in shock. She had heard enough during her time with Master B’tal to know that a queen was a valued part of their society. “How did they ever let you go?”

“My Hive had two queens already and they did not want any more competition. I was sold as soon as I reached sexual maturity and it became apparent that I could breed.” Her mandibles clicked softly. “Of course, I was sad to leave my Hivemates, but I am happy not to become a breeder. And very happy to have ended up on Sherae.”

“Yes, of course.” Deb shook off her surprise and returned to her idea. “Well, I was just wondering, since we’ll be both be free soon, if you would consider sharing a home with me?”

“Only if you want to, of course,” she rushed on when T’lik didn’t respond immediately. “And I know I’ll have the baby, but I promise I’ll get a job as soon as possible and do everything I can do help out. But if you don’t want to, that’s fine.”

“Mistress, I would be honored to share a home with you and your child but that will not be possible for several years.”

Deb frowned at her. “What do you mean?”

“I have another four years left on my contract.”

“Four years?” she repeated, sure that she must have misunderstood.

“Yes. I am fortunate that my purchase price was low so that I could pay it off so quickly.”

“Do you mind telling me how much?”

T’lik named an amount that made Deb shudder.

“I don’t understand. Prince Rastrath told me that I could work off my debt before he left, and I didn’t think he was staying very long.” A knowledge that had previously troubled her but was now making her angry. Was he just playing some twisted game? Tell the slave lies to keep her compliant while he fucked her, and then disappear off into the galaxy leaving her behind, as trapped as she’d ever been.

T’lik’s mandibles clicked rapidly, a sign of her increasing agitation. “I didn’t mean to upset you, mistress. Master Marious told us that you were to be treated with the utmost respect.”

“I’m not upset with you, T’lik. I need to speak to Prince Rastrath immediately.” She started to struggle to her feet, but T’lik put a hand on her arm.

“He will be with Parliament.”

“Damn. You’re right; I wasn’t thinking.” Unable to vent her frustration, she sighed. “Just help me off with this ridiculous outfit.”

The pleasure she had taken in the gorgeous clothes was gone. Instead, she felt like a live Barbie doll, dressed up for her owner’s amusement. T’lik silently helped her change but her mandibles still waved anxiously. As soon as she was finished, Deb sent her off with the pleasantest smile she could manage. Too restless to settle down, she walked out to the balcony and started pacing.

The weather mirrored her agitation. The usually gentle sea breeze increased until it was swirling around. Just as a sudden gust flung two cushions across the balcony, several servants rushed out.

“Excuse me, mistress. A storm is approaching. We need to secure the rooms.”

“What can I do to help?”

“If you could just come inside.” He cast an anxious look out across the sea. For the first time since Deb arrived, she could see whitecaps breaking across the water, the calm turquoise turning a turbulent dark green. Clouds scurried across the sky and even as she watched, she caught a flicker of lightning. Her pulse rate increased; she hated storms ever since she was a little girl. Gladly moving inside, she watched as the men moved rapidly but efficiently around the balcony. All of the smaller, loose items were brought inside, and all of the larger furniture tied down. Once they were through with the balcony, they turned to the rest of the rooms.

The shutters were closed for the first time, blocking out the usual flow of light and air. As they were closed, the room lights came on, bathing everything in a soft glow. It should have felt like a typical evening, but without the fresh air and the view of the ocean, it felt stifling instead. No matter how large and spacious the rooms, she felt trapped. Trying to distract herself, she went to Rastrath’s library but even the garden shutters had been closed. Marious had been teaching her a few words of the Sheraen written language, but nowhere near enough to enable her to read any of the books.

Instead, she ended up wandering aimlessly from room to room, anger and hurt vying for dominance while the baby twisted and turned, as restless as she. Memories taunted her with every step. All of his seeming kindness now felt manipulative instead. She was staring at the bed she shared with Rastrath when he finally returned.

Chapter Thirteen

“There you are, sweetheart. Are you feeling better? It’s probably just as well you left. The Lord of Arganoll and the Master of Tremendor just spent two hours making exquisitely polite insults at each other. It’s just like being back at—” Rastrath broke off. “Is there something wrong?”

“Something wrong?” Deb could hear the hysteria underlying her voice, but she didn’t have the strength to control it. Her sense of betrayal and hurt were too strong. “You mean besides the fact that you lied to me?”

“Lied to you?”

“You told me I could work off my debt before you left. But I didn’t realize how much you paid for me. Unless you are crediting me with a million credits per blow job, I’ll never be able to buy my way free.”

Rastrath stiffened, suddenly looking every inch a Royal Prince but she was too far gone to notice.

“How could you do that to me? To us? Were you just trying to keep me happy until you left? Make sure I was ‘willing’ enough for you?”

He opened his mouth, then shut it, turning to stride restlessly to the closed shutters. When he finally turned, the stiffness was gone. “Deb, I freed you after the second night we spent together. After you left that day, I realized that I didn’t want you as a slave, but as a…companion.”

Free? She was free? Her mouth dropped open. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t think it would matter between us.” A flash of guilt crossed his face, his expression almost pleading as he returned to her side. “Does it really make that much difference?”

“But I came to you,” she whispered. “I came to your bed.”

“I know. And you said you came willingly. Were you lying to me?”

Still stunned, she couldn’t think of anything to say. Blue eyes turned ice cold and she shivered.

“I see.” His voice was completely emotionless. “Very well. Then I suggest you return to your room. Unless the sight of me is so unpleasant that you no longer wish to occupy this suite with me. In that case, I will have Marious make other arrangements.”

“Does he know?”

“Of course, he does. He prepared the paperwork and he has been banking your pay.”

“My pay?”

“For working with him. You are earning enough that you will be able to rest after the child is born. I will, of course, provide for you but I thought you would feel more secure with your own income.” The stiffness was back.

“I don’t understand. Why didn’t you just tell me? And don’t tell me that it didn’t matter. You knew how much it meant—how much it means to me!”

“I thought we had moved beyond that. But we hadn’t, had we? You’re just like all of the others. You show me a smiling face, or in your case a wet cunt, and despise me behind my back,” he said harshly. “Well, I don’t need that from you or anyone else. Please leave.”

It was the “please” that did it, along with the combination of hurt and fury she could read all too clearly, despite his stiffness. Tears overflowed, and she turned and fled. Her burgeoning stomach wouldn’t let her throw herself on the bed the way she wanted but she crawled in, wrapped herself around a pillow and cried.

A long time later, she rolled to her back and stared up at the ceiling. She was so used to the arched coral over Rast’s bed that the pretty lace canopy topping hers looked wrong. The bed felt cold and empty without his arms around her. A gust of wind rattled the shutters and she realized that she was physically cold as well. This was the first time she had felt air this cold during her time on Sherae. Another rush of wind was followed by a clap of thunder so loud that she jerked upright with a frightened cry. God, she hated storms.

There was another loud boom, and then the lights went out. She froze, trying to fight back the panic creeping over her. In the darkness, the sound of the roaring wind seemed even louder. As the thunder boomed again, she could see the resulting flash of lightning around the edges of the shutters. The darkness, the noise, the flashing—all of a sudden, she was back with Master. Forced into a dark hole because he was tired of her disobedience. Periodically the overhead door of her cell would clatter, and his men would flash their lights at her, taunting her as she cried, before slamming the opening closed with a sound like thunder.

“No,” she screamed, and found herself backed into a corner, hands outstretched.

“Deb, Deb, what is it?”

The voice couldn’t penetrate the nightmare. “No,” she screamed again, and fought desperately as someone grabbed her, trying to take her back to Master and his clamps and his claws.

“Ssh, sweetheart. Everything is fine.” Hands gripped her, but they didn’t hurt her, and she could smell his fresh ocean scent, and she realized that Rastrath had her cradled tightly in his arms. The relief was so great that she didn’t care that she was still angry and confused, all she cared about was that she was here, and she was safe. She burst into tears.

“Sweetheart, please. Stop crying.” Rastrath cuddled Deb closer and stroked her hair. Her sobs had a hysterical edge that he didn’t like but with the power out, he couldn’t summon the doctor and he wasn’t about to leave her. His hurt and anger were meaningless in the face of her terror and distress. He rocked gently back and forth, humming, remembering how that had soothed her the first time she’d cried. To his relief, she quieted, her sobs dying down to a few last hiccups.

“Is it the weather? Are you frightened of the storm?”

“I’ve always hated storms, ever since I was a little girl.” Her voice was a mere thread of sound. “But when I was taken, Master’s favorite way of punishing me was to put me in a hole with no lights. The last time, before I gave in, I was in there for what seemed like forever.” She took his hand and brought it to the scars on her thighs. He had never dared to ask about them. “That’s why these didn’t heal smoothly. He only sent the medic afterward.”

Before he could decide whether or not to ask, she continued. “They are from the clamps he used to hold my legs open. The barbs cut into my flesh.”

“Barbs?” It took all of his willpower not to roar out his anger, but she must have felt his tension because she—she—patted his arm soothingly. The guilt he’d buried behind his hurt feelings came roaring back.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I promise you that I will find that bastard and make him pay.”

“I just want to forget about him.” Another clap of thunder split the night and she flinched and huddled closer. “Why did you come to me?”

“Because I heard you cry out.” He forced himself to ask, “Do you want me to leave?”

Her hands tightened on his shirt. “God, no.”

They were both silent for a long moment, before he sighed. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I should have told you that I had freed you.”

“Why didn’t you?” The pain in her voice was like a knife in his chest.

“I told myself that it didn’t matter, that you were with me willingly,” he said slowly, as he forced himself to face the truth. The confession came more easily in the dark room. “But really, I was being selfish. I didn’t want to take the chance of you deciding not to stay with me. And I really didn’t want to find out that you were just like all the others.”

She jumped as the thunder sounded again, then it was her turn to sigh. “I was lying to myself as well. I did want to be with you but a part of me still preferred to think that it was because I had made that bargain with you.” He felt his muscles tighten and she must have also because she hurried on. “I couldn’t face the fact that I had…desires for a slave owner. I hated myself when I stopped fighting Master and I didn’t want to think that I was doing the same thing.”

“So, neither one of us was being completely honest?”

“I guess not.”

“Should we start over? I want you to stay with me, Deb. As long as I am here, I want you in my household, in my bed, in my arms…” He hugged her gently.

“I want to be with you, too,” she whispered. “In every way.”

Her body shifted slightly and then he felt her small hand caressing one of his horns. Her grip tightened, and his cock immediately responded. He knew she could feel it beneath her, but she didn’t stop. Instead, she moved to straddle him and grasped the second horn as well.

“You like this, don’t you?”

“Very much.”

“It took me awhile to figure that out. I just assumed that they didn’t have any feeling.” Her voice was thoughtful as she started a series of long strokes that had him groaning with pleasure. She leaned closer, her breasts and stomach pressing against him and her luscious ass surrounding his aching cock. His whole body was on fire with excitement.

“Sweetheart, are you sure about this? You’re free now.”

“I know.”

“You don’t have to do anything unless you want to.” Part of his brain urged him to be silent, but he had to know for sure that she was here because she wanted to be with him of her own free will.

“I want to do this, Rast. I love how excited you get when I touch you.” She shifted a little and raised her ass. He could have cried with disappointment but when she settled back down, his cock was between them. She rocked against it and he could feel the damp heat of her cunt through the thin silk separating them.

“Do you like this?” She stroked his horns again. “Or do you prefer this?” This time she squeezed them, and he shuddered at the tight pressure. His cock jerked between them, drops of precum dampening his own garment.

“Mm. I guess you like them both.” Her voice was teasing but he could feel the hard points of her nipples and knew she was aroused as well.

“Could you come just from this?” she asked breathlessly.

“No, sweetheart. But if you keep rubbing against my cock that way I will.”

“Oh.” She hesitated for a second, and her hands stilled. He held his breath, wondering what she was thinking.

“I would like for you to be inside me when that happens,” she whispered.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

This time he didn’t press the question, his need too great. He freed his erection quickly, then tore a hole in her pants, too impatient to wait for her to undress. She gave a startled cry as the fabric ripped but her hands tightened on his horns and he didn’t hesitate before thrusting upward into her welcoming heat. Despite how wet she was, she was still tight, and he had to work his way deeper. Just as he buried himself completely, the lights came on.

He paused, forcing himself to look for any sign of regret. Her cheeks were pink, but she met his gaze willingly. Still holding her gaze, he raised her up until only the tip of his cock remained inside her and then pulled her back down. Her eyelids fluttered, and she gave a breathless gasp, her hands tightening on his horns again.

“The lights are back on.” He raised her up once more.

“I know.”

“There’s no hiding.” His hips thrust upward as he lowered her, and she cried out.

“For either of us.” Her eyes met his directly.

“No,” he agreed. Her hips tried to move but he held her in place, cock completely surrounded by silken heat.

“And you’ll stay with me?” he asked.

“Yes, Rast. I’ll stay with you of my own free will. Because this is where I want to be.” Her voice was shaky, but her eyes were clear. A small part of his brain registered the fact that neither one of them had put a time limit on being together, but it was lost beneath the feeling of relief that swept over him. He began to move, thrusting up into her with feverish intensity. She matched it, using his horns to help her meet each thrust. He moved faster as his balls tightened and a line of fire shot down his spine, trying desperately not to come, to wait for her. Just as he was sure he wouldn’t make it, she cried out his name and he felt her cunt grow impossibly tighter around him as he erupted in shuddering jets of pleasure.

Chapter Fourteen

The next morning, Deb awakened in Rastrath’s arms feeling extraordinarily contented. Her baby was safe, she had her freedom, and she had a man who treated her with remarkable kindness and who touched her body in a way that only grew better each time. She could hear shutters being opened in the other rooms and saw sunlight peeking around the bedroom door. The storm had passed. The only shadow on her existence was the fact that she would never be able to see her family again.

“Regrets, sweetheart?” His voice was cautious, and she hugged him reassuringly.

“Not about you, or about last night. I was just missing my family. I’m sorry you didn’t have a better one.”

“You can’t miss what you never had.” He shrugged but she knew him well enough by now to know that he was nowhere near as casual as he sounded.

“Were you ever around any happy families?”

“In the Imperial Palace? I’m not sure that they exist. Everything is about power and position, and your children are only pawns in that game.” He rolled to his back, taking her with him, and stared up at the ceiling. “The only exception I can think of might be the Emperor himself. His mother wasn’t brought up in the palace. Once she was selected to become the First Consort, she was sent to a convent on Draenor to be reared to ensure her purity.”

She shivered. “They sent her to a convent? That sounds terrible.”

“I don’t think it was. The Sisters of Rakokh believe in goodness and charity. I suspect they were kind to her and in turn taught her to be kind, but it didn’t serve her very well once she became First Consort.”

“Did you know her?”

“No, half-blood princes far down the line of succession do not associate with the immediate royal family. But I would see her sometimes. She was very beautiful and very sad. I think she loved her son very much and he loved her. He grieved openly at her death.”

“Wouldn’t anyone grieve if their mother died?”

“Not on Kaisar. Showing true emotion only makes you vulnerable.”

Her hand went up to stroke his cheek, her heart aching at the terrible childhood he must have endured. Thank God her child could be brought up here. She hadn’t seen many children in the palace, but she couldn’t imagine that the gentle Sheraens would treat their children so.

Rast’s hand covered hers, then brought it to his mouth, his tongue tickling her palm before he drew one of her fingers between his lips and sucked gently. Her body immediately responded to the sensual pleasure and wiggled closer, reaching down to find his already hardening shaft.

The communicator sounded.

“Gods damn it, Marious. What is it now? Neither I nor Mistress Deb are available.”

“I beg your pardon, Your Highness, but there was a message from Captain Athtar. He has entered the system and will be arriving shortly.”

“Today?” Rast’s muscles tensed. “Very well. Arrange for him to be met and brought to me immediately.”

“Yes, Your Highness.” There was a pause, then Marious cleared his throat. “Ah, will Mistress Debra be joining me today?”

“No.” His arms tightened before he sighed. “I would like her to meet Captain Athtar.”

“Yes, Your Highness,” Marious said, but she could hear the reluctance in his voice as he ended the call.

“He’s not going to be happy,” Deb laughed. “We were supposed to meet with the cloth merchants today.”

Rast laughed, too, but there was an odd note to it. He rose to one elbow, staring down at her with an expression she couldn’t read. “You have become indispensable.”

“Isn’t that a good thing?” Her brow furrowed, trying to decide why he didn’t sound happier. “You said you didn’t want to deal with these types of questions.”

“I don’t. It’s just…”

“What?” All of a sudden, she felt frightened.

“It’s just that if Athtar has been successful, then I will most probably have to leave Sherae and return to Kaisar to meet with the Emperor.”

“Leave?” An ache started in her chest. It shouldn’t matter; she had her freedom—she even had a job—but the idea of Rast leaving hurt much more than she expected. She had known he was only visiting, but she had thought she would have more time to prepare for his departure.

“I don’t want to leave but one of the few advantages of being in the line of succession is that I can arrange for an audience on fairly short notice. I suspect that Athtar has brought information that I need to bring to his attention.”

“I see.” She tried to keep her voice matter of fact, but even she could hear the tremor in it. “Will you be back?”

“I want to come back.” He looked almost surprised at the words. “Both to Sherae…and to you. But I do not know what will happen when I meet with the Emperor or how long I will be gone.” He reached out and caressed her stomach with a gentleness that made her blink furiously to suppress her tears. “This little one may have seen the light of day by then.”

The baby kicked as if in response, and they both jumped. Deb managed a laugh. “Looks like you woke him up. He’ll be demanding food soon. And if your friend is coming, I’d better get dressed.”

“I certainly don’t want him seeing you like this. You look far too delectable for an old scavenger like him.” She made an attempt to move away, but he immediately stopped her and pulled her close. “But before you go…”

His mouth descended over hers with the same urgency she felt. If they only had a short time left, she wanted to take advantage of every minute of it. She clung to him and he held her with the same desperation as his kiss turned demanding and his shaft hardened between them. Her nipples tightened into hard little buds and she could feel the slickness between her legs. Only the sound of activity in the living area beyond made him finally pull back and she could have cried with frustration.

“Gods dammit. I’m sorry, sweetheart but we don’t have time right now. Go and get dressed and meet me on the balcony.”

Pasting a smile on her face as he finally released her, she rose ungracefully to her feet and left before the tears could come.

As soon as Deb left, Rastrath let out a string of obscenities. The intensity of his desire not to leave shocked him. He had come to like this planet much more than he expected. Negotiations were well in hand for the upcoming trade fair and the opening of Parliament the previous day had shown him that there was a lot of work that could be done there—work for which he was surprisingly well suited. But even more deeply, he did not want to leave Deb.

Now that she knew she was free and had chosen to come to him anyway, the fear that he had refused to acknowledge was gone. He wanted to stay here with her, to be there when her son was born. To have her tell him stories about his household over dinner, and to have her soft body in his bed each night. He had never intended to return to Sherae but perhaps…he shook his head. Only the Gods knew how long this could take. What if she found someone else while he was gone? If only he could just send a message instead of going in person…but the rigid concept of duty that his grandfather had tried to instill wouldn’t allow him to take such an ineffective path. This was too important. All he could hope for was that Athtar had returned to let him know that he needed more time.

That admittedly remote hope was dashed as soon as they met. Athtar looked as grim as he’d ever seen him.

“You’re very fast, my friend.”

“I had Kanithe cross check those lists you send me against the Serigali logs. She made a fucking connection.”

“So where is it?”

Athtar sighed and rubbed his chin. “On Hothrest.”

“Fuck.”

Before he could question him further, a slight sound made him look up to see Deb standing at the door. The dark red gown that set off her creamy skin should have been modest, but nothing could conceal her lush curves. She looked like an ancient goddess of fertility and he heard Athtar swear under his breath. Resisting the sudden desire to punch his oldest friend, instead he went to meet her, taking her hand to lead her into the room.

“Deb, this is Captain Athtar. He runs the dirtiest old rust bucket this side of the galaxy and he is an uncouth brute not fit for civilized company, but he is my oldest friend.” He smiled at her startled expression. “Athtar, this is my…” No term really seemed appropriate, so he settled for “My Deb.”

“Your Deb, eh? Nice to meet you, Mistress.” Athtar extended one giant hand and Deb rather gingerly gave him hers. He bowed over it with a grace that would have put Rastrath’s etiquette master to shame. “Very nice,” he repeated with an appreciative grin as he surveyed her curves.

Rastrath pulled her firmly back to his side. “That’s enough, you bastard. Let’s go out on the balcony.”

The vine over the dining area had been ripped away, but no other sign remained of the storm. He helped Deb onto a couch overlooking the ocean and sat down next to her. Athtar raised an eyebrow at him but refrained from comment as he joined them.

“You found the lab on Hothrest?”

“Yeah. There’s a small port in the northern mountains. Nothing there but fucking rocks and snow, but there’s a constant stream of supply ships landing. Looks like the base is actually underground. I sent Studoc in as a drunken trader who’d gotten off course from the capital. He said he thought they were going to shoot him at first, but you know him. He can charm his fucking way out of anything. He acted like an idiot, lost a whole bunch of your credits gambling with his guards, and in the end, they sent him on his merry way. He thinks the scientists are Elginar.”

Rastrath shook his head. “I wouldn’t have expected that.” The Elginar were renowned as scholars, not as warriors.

Athtar shrugged. “Fucking intellectuals. All they care about is being able to experiment, not what it’s used for.”

“He’s right,” Deb interjected. “My youngest sister is like that—too smart for her own good. She blew up the shed in the backyard trying to create a new fire starter. Even then, all she cared about was trying to perfect the formula. I don’t think she even really noticed that she’d taken out my mom’s favorite rose bush.”

A shadow crossed her face at the mention of her family, and he took her hand, giving it a comforting squeeze. When he looked up, Athtar raised his eyebrow again, then shook his head. He ignored his friend, thinking over the problem. “So, all they probably wanted was to be able to work on their project and Ustrod gave it to them. On Hothrest of all places.”

“What is Hothrest?” she asked.

“A planet of people who like their privacy. Since they’re Athtar’s size, covered in fur, and have claws and fangs the size of my hand, they usually get what they want. They don’t often leave, and they don’t like visitors.”

“They like traders,” Athtar pointed out. “Not a whole lot of variety on a planet where it fucking snows all the time. Lots of business in the main port. Maybe could get in that way.”

Rastrath sighed. “The old Emperor would have just sent in the Imperial troops, seized the planet and the lab, and killed anyone who got in the way. I don’t think Karthajin would do that. He might agree to a sneak attack, rather than wholesale slaughter.”

“If you talk to him,” Athtar said. It wasn’t a question.

“Yes.” His hand tightened over Deb’s and she returned his clasp. “I’m going to have to go to Kaisar.”

Athtar nodded but didn’t say anything. Deb tucked her soft body closer against his side as he looked out over the sparkling blue waters. The waves lapped against the shore and the constant breeze brought the scent of flowers. He had never wanted less to leave, and he had never been more sure that he had to go.

Chapter Fifteen

Deb held Rastrath’s hand and tried not to cling too hard. How had she become so attached to this man in such a short period? The thought of him leaving tore at her but she tried her best not to let it show. She cleared her throat and tried to focus on the subject they were discussing. “So, what’s in this secret lab that you’ve discovered?”

The men exchanged looks over her head and she was just about to say never mind, when Rastrath spoke.

“I believe they are creating a weapon capable of destroying a planet.”

“Destroying a planet? That sounds like something out of a movie.” The thought struck her as so funny that she had to choke back a laugh, afraid that it would come out hysterical. “Why am I even surprised? Everything that’s happened to me had been like that. I never even knew that aliens really existed, let alone that I would be captured and…” The words died out; the desire to laugh being replaced by an even stronger desire to cry.

Rastrath tucked her closer and dropped a kiss on the top of her head. “You’re safe now, sweetheart.”

“You were fucking taken?” Athtar scowled at her and she instinctively drew back before she realized that he seemed to be angry on her behalf. He was so big that she couldn’t help being a little scared of him, but despite her fear she recognized that he was quite attractive in a rough kind of way. He looked like a cross between a cross between a Viking and some kind of huge elf with his braids and his pointed ears.

“Where did you come from?” he demanded.

“From a pre-space flight world,” Rastrath said grimly. “And she’s not the only one. I know of at least one other from her world.”

Shock held her silent as the men continued their conversation. There were other humans out here? Of course, it made sense that she wasn’t the only one but while part of her was horrified that others might have met the same fate, another part was overjoyed that there was at least one other human in this terrifying new world.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she demanded, interrupting their discussion.

He gave her an apologetic look. “I really didn’t think about it.”

“Is it another woman? Is she a slave, too? Have you met her?”

“Slow down, sweetheart. Yes, she’s a female. The slave part is…complicated.”

“How can it be complicated? Either you are, or you aren’t. Unless she’s free and no one told her?” She glared at him and he laughed.

“I suspect I’ll be regretting that decision for a long time to come.” He sobered. “As far as I know, she’s still a slave. But I also know that her master killed a royal prince to keep her and I suspect that they are also mated.”

“The story is that Ustrod died from a hereditary medical condition. You never told me that he was killed.” Athtar redirected his scowl to Rastrath.

“That was the favor I did for the Sardoran. No one else knows what really happened, except for one of the Brotherhood.”

“Aren’t you worried about him knowing?”

“Why should I be? I didn’t do it and I suspect that Kievan Rus can take care of himself.”

“Kievan? He’s the one with the human slave mate?” Athtar shook his head. “Never thought he’d end up fucking mated.”

“He’s Sardoran, no matter how much he chooses to ignore it,” Rast shrugged again. “You know them and their mating bonds.”

Deb broke in impatiently. “But you’ve met her? What’s she like? Where’s she from?”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I only saw her for a few minutes, and I didn’t talk to her at all.” She knew her disappointment must be reflected on her face because he gave her a quick hug.

“Perhaps when this is over, we can…” He broke off and shook his head. “Never mind. I’ll see if I can arrange for a message.”

She nodded, but her earlier excitement had faded. What difference did it make? She was stuck here on Sherae, and the other human woman was somewhere else. But despite her disappointment, there was something oddly comforting about knowing that there was another human out here in this strange galaxy with her.

“But they’re both from the same planet?” Athtar asked.

“Yes. In his usual destructive manner, Ustrod was at least partially responsible for their planet being found. And once word of a planet with desirable females gets out, there are always going to be those who are willing to take the risk and break the law.”

Her heart pounded at the implications. Had other women been taken? Were they being taken even now? Athtar seemed to be thinking along the same lines.

“Fucking slavers. Does Karthajin know? If he’s as upstanding as you say he is, he should be putting a stop to it.”

“We didn’t discuss it. At the time, I was focused on the issue of Trillium and the Bliss stones.” He shot a glance at her and sighed. “I can try and mention it to him, but I suspect that he’ll be more focused on the planet destroyer.”

Athtar nodded. “That’s the other part of my news. Studoc said there was a lot of excitement at the facility. He overheard heard one of the fucking guards mention something about not being there much longer.”

“That doesn’t make any sense. Ustrod is dead. Who would be expecting it now?”

The men exchanged another look, and she could feel the tension in the air.

“He had a fucking partner,” Athtar said slowly, and Rast nodded.

“I need to see the Emperor as soon as possible. I want you to take me to Kaisar personally, in case he has any questions.”

“Not crazy about going to Kaisar again. Not my kind of place.” Athtar scowled, then nodded. “But I see your point. When do you want to leave?”

Rastrath shot a glance at her, then closed his eyes briefly. A change came over him and he took on what she thought of as his princely look. “We should leave today. If they really are close to completion, Karthajin needs to know.”

A cold feeling swept over her and she shivered, but it was no use. He had his duties and she had her son to consider. Pasting a smile on her face, she tried to stand up. Rast immediately sprang to his feet and assisted her but kept her hands in his grip.

“I’ll make the arrangements, then come see you before I leave, sweetheart.”

Unable to speak, she nodded. Afraid the tears would start flowing, all she could do was glance at Athtar and nod. Then she whirled and fled for her bedroom, hoping she made it before the tears began.

Rastrath stared after Deb, fighting the urge to follow her. He could see she was upset, and he wanted to be there to comfort her.

“What’s going on, Rast?” Athtar demanded. “You don’t treat her like a slave, but she had to have been one if she was taken.”

“She was a slave. I freed her.”

“Never had much desire for a slave, myself. I boss people around all day. Don’t need to do it all night as well. I prefer a woman with a little fire.” He gave Rast a considering look. “But she’s a tempting little thing. Is it your child?”

“No,” he muttered, even though all of him wanted to shout yes. “It happened before she came here.”

“Gods damned slavers took a pregnant woman?”

“No. Her first master. A Derian.”

“Poor woman.” Athtar knew as well as he did what the Derians were like. “They’re only a step up from the Serigali. At least they don’t eat their victims.”

“No, they only torture them. She has scars and would have more if he hadn’t had a medic on hand.” He briefly described what had happened to her.

“Goddamn mother fucking asshole,” Athtar swore. “If you don’t kill the cocksucking bastard, I will.”

“Believe me, it’s on my list.” He fought back the flare of anger. “Yet another thing I have to put off because of that bastard Ustrod.”

“We’ll go hunt him together after we see the Emperor,” Athtar promised with a savage grin.

Marious appeared at the edge of the balcony, his skin paled to a sickly yellow and his fins moving rapidly. Rastrath hadn’t seen him this agitated since the first day of his arrival.

“What’s wrong?”

“Your Highness, we just…” He hesitated, then moved closer and thrust a piece of paper forward with a trembling hand. “We just received a message. It’s about Mistress Debra. From her former master. He says he wants his property.”

“What the fuck? He sold her; she’s not his property.”

“No, not her. He wants the child.”

“No!” An anguished cry came from the bedroom door. Deb was standing there, one hand clutching the door frame. “He can’t have my baby. Please…”

Her dark eyes were wide with terror, her face sheet white. He was already on his way to her and was just in time to catch her when she fainted.

Chapter Sixteen

Rastrath cradled Deb’s body against his chest, fear and anger warring for control. “Send for the doctor,” he ordered Marious, then carried Deb back into the bedroom, jerking his head at Athtar to follow him.

Reluctant to put her down, he didn’t lay her on the bed, but sat on the couch with her cradled in his lap.

“How can that bastard think he’s got a claim?” Athtar burst out, lowering his voice when Rast glared at him. “He sold her.”

“Marious, what does the message say?”

The little steward had followed them into the room after calling for the doctor, wringing his hands anxiously. “It says that because she was his property at the time of the conception, he owns the child. Is that true, Your Highness?”

“No, ownership of the child would belong to the current owner.”

“But that’s you,” Athtar said.

“Was me. Remember, I freed her?”

“If she’s free, then there’s no issue.”

“Unless he makes a paternity claim.” They exchanged a grim look, but just then Deb stirred, and he immediately turned his attention to her. Her eyelids fluttered open, dark eyes haunted, and she clutched his shirt.

“You can’t let him, Rast. You can’t let him have my baby.”

“No, sweetheart. I won’t let him have your son.” She buried her head against his chest and sobbed while he tried to think of the best way to make sure it couldn’t happen. “Marious, was the message addressed to me?”

“To your household. He seemed to think that you would have, um, moved on. He says he will be arriving soon to pick up his property.”

“No, no,” Deb moaned, and he rocked her gently.

“You’re a fucking prince,” Athtar snarled impatiently. “Just threaten him with the Imperial Fleet or something.”

“I’m not on the High Council and I have cultivated a reputation as nothing more than a pleasure seeker. I doubt he would believe me.”

“You have to take me away before he gets here.” Deb choked back a sob and gripped his shirt with small determined fingers. “I don’t care if you make me your slave again. Just don’t let him take my baby.”

“I won’t let him, sweetheart. I promise.” What Athtar said about his being a prince nagged at him. There was something… The memory came back, along with a feeling of immense satisfaction.

“I will make you my Consort,” he announced.

“What does that mean?”

“It means that you will be legally bound to me. For life.” He couldn’t suppress his pleasure at the thought. He wouldn’t have to worry about anyone competing for her affection, or about leaving her behind. She would always be with him.

“Bound? You mean like a slave?”

“I mean you would become my Consort, my…companion, and your child would become our child.”

“So, Master couldn’t get his hands on him? In that case, yes, anything.” He couldn’t blame her for focusing on her—their—child but he wished she seemed more thrilled at the idea of being with him.

“Marious, have the Head Priest sent here immediately. We should have the ceremony before we leave. And find out what happened to that thrice damned doctor.”

“Yes, Your Highness.” Marious scuttled away with a relieved look on his face.

Deb was sitting completely upright now, frowning at him. “Wait a minute. The ceremony? Before we leave?”

“The ceremony is to make it official as soon as possible. We because the Emperor is required to give his approval and I doubt he will do that without your presence.” It was actually possible that he could refuse, but he refused to consider that possibility.

Athtar had been silent up until now, but now he burst out laughing. “So, The Dancing Lady is going to be become the site of your First Mating trip? Fucking priceless.”

“When you said legally bound, I thought you meant as another type of slave.” She shot a confused look from him to Athtar. “That doesn’t require a ceremony. Are you going to marry me?”

“Marry?” The word didn’t translate.

“When two people agree to live together and um, love each other for the rest of their lives. But I understand that this is just for the baby,” she added hastily. He tried to ignore the sinking feeling in his chest.

“Yes, for the baby. Our baby.” He curved a possessive hand over the swell of her stomach and felt another pulse of satisfaction.

She bit her lip, then looked down at his hand before covering it with her own. “Our baby,” she agreed.

“A mate and a father in one day. You’re a fast bastard, Rast.” Athtar burst out laughing but Rast was still focused on their joined hands. The baby kicked, and he smiled at Deb.

“I think our son approves.”

A few hours later, Deb held tightly to Rastrath’s hand as he led the way onto The Dancing Lady. The time had passed in a flurry of activity. The doctor had visited, given her a tonic to drink and firmly instructed both her and Rast that she was to take it easy and not upset herself. The priest had appeared and conducted a brief ceremony that made very little sense to her, although she nodded and said yes whenever she was asked. Small blood samples were taken from both of them and added to a lengthy document. T’lik had bustled about, packing the clothes she had accumulated, before giving her an unexpected hug goodbye.

“I will pray to the Goddess for you, Mistress,” she whispered. “I hope that this will be a time of great joy.”

The ever-ready tears sprang to her eyes, but Deb just hugged her back. And now she was going on board a spaceship. This was the first time she had ever really seen one from the outside when she could pay attention. Despite the name, it was an ungainly craft, with a snub nose and an oversized rear. One of the doors to the cargo bay was open and she could see someone operating a crane to bring a container on board.

“I see you managed to find time to do some trading,” Rast said to Athtar. The captain was waiting at the top of the boarding ramp, looking even more imposing than he had on the balcony. He seemed friendly enough, but he was just so big it made her nervous.

“I figured since you’re making me go to fucking Kaisar, might as well take some fresh food along. Those rich bastards go crazy over foreign delicacies.”

“I assume that the profits will be deducted from my charges?”

Athtar stroked his chin. “Oh, I doubt there’ll be any profits. Last minute purchase, fuel costs. You know how it is.”

“I certainly do, you old bastard. I’ll make sure I go through your invoice in great detail. I’ll take it out of your hide if you try and cheat me.” Despite the insults, she could see the easy relationship and obvious trust between the two men. Her body relaxed, and she managed a sincere smile as the captain ushered them on board, then up a narrow set of stairs to a common room, then up another flight to a smaller room. On one side an open doorway led into what was obviously a command center, but Athtar led them to one of the closed doors on the other side.

“Here you go.” He threw open the door with a flourish. “Everything you need for a First Mating.”

A bed dominated the small room and she felt her cheeks heat as she realized what he meant. Not that she had any objection to sharing a bed with Rast, this just seemed more…public than she had anticipated.

“Thank you. Now leave.” Rast gave Athtar a playful shove on the shoulder, which didn’t move the big man one inch.

“Anxious to get rid of me?”

Rast glared and Athtar grinned and raised his hands. “I’m going, I’m going. Should we expect you for the evening meal?” He ran his eyes over Deb with an appreciative look that made her blush even harder, but she wasn’t afraid. “‘Course, if was me, you wouldn’t see me again until we made Kaisar.”

“Out,” Rast roared. “One more comment like that and you’ll feel my blade at your neck.” His hand actually went to the hilt of the sword he had strapped on before they left.

Somewhat to her surprise, Athtar’s face turned serious. “I’m sorry, my friend. I mean no insult to you or your Consort.” He dipped his head and left, closing the door quietly behind him

“Are you feeling better, sweetheart?” Rast turned to her, the concerned look on his face at complete odds to the ferocity he had just shown.

“I’m fine. Just tired.” She sat on the edge of the bed, glad to get the weight off her feet. An awkward silence fell. “Um, what does he mean by a First Mating trip?”

“It is the custom in many of our cultures to take a First Mating trip after one is joined.” He sat beside her, a careful distance away, but she could feel the heat of his body and wished that he would move closer. “To celebrate the union and, um, enjoy the first contact with one’s mate.”

This was sounding more and more like a marriage. A marriage of convenience, she reminded herself. He’d never said he loved her. “We have a custom like that. It’s called a honeymoon.”

“I do not understand the reference. Honey translates as something sweet? How does that relate to a moon? A sweet orbital body?”

She giggled. “I have no idea why it’s called that, either. But…” She slanted a look at him from under her eyelashes. If he was her husband now, and this was their honeymoon… Her stomach gave a pleasant little flutter and she felt her nipples tighten. “Maybe it’s sweet because of the amount of time devoted to mating.” She lifted her hand to brush back her hair, knowing the pose threw her breasts into greater prominence. Rast’s eyes dropped to them immediately and she could see his cock twitch through the thin pants he was wearing.

“Of course, if it’s supposed to be a First Mating, we don’t really qualify.” She lifted the other arm and stretched lazily.

“It will be the first with you as my Consort.” His voice had lowered to a deep pitch that sent a shiver up her spine. He finally tore his gaze away from her breasts and gave her the smile that always made her pussy dampen. With his horns and red skin, it has the ultimate demonic, bad boy look that promised deliciously evil pleasures. Before she could respond, he stood up and stripped off his shirt. Mm, she loved his chest, all lean defined muscles and that small trail of red gold curls leading down to his eager cock. She wet her lips and his eyes turned electric blue.

“Come here,” she whispered. “I want to taste my prince.”

He kicked off his shoes, dropped his pants, and took the additional step in her direction, gloriously naked. His cock was already fully erect, flushed a deeper red, the spiral veins circling it pulsing beneath her fingers. Her mouth watered as she licked a slow path around his length, his clean ocean scent filling her senses. As she took him into her mouth, she looked up to see him watching her, both hunger and tenderness obvious on his face, and a matching feeling spread through her. This man, this prince, who had married her just so that she could keep her baby, he deserved everything she had to give him. She took one slow, deep suck, taking him all the way into her throat, and then pulled free.

Her tenderness increased when he didn’t protest, although he looked concerned. “Is something wrong? Are you ill?”

“No. Help me up, please.”

He frowned but drew her to her feet.

“Can you unfasten my gown?” Unlike most of her dresses, this one had a long row of buttons down the back.

“Of course, my Consort.” He began with the top button, then pressed a kiss on the exposed flesh. With each remaining button he did the same and the feel of his warm lips and teasing tongue sent her own arousal soaring, made her even more sure about her decision. When the last button was undone, and the dress slipped free, she didn’t turn around, but simply leaned forward over the bed, before shooting him a seductive look over her shoulder.

“Why don’t we try it this way?”

Chapter Seventeen

“Sweetheart, are you sure?” Rast’s eyes were filled with lust, but also with concern and her heart fluttered. They had tried this position twice before but each time she had panicked. Master had clamped her this way and without being able to see Rast’s face, her fears had overtaken her. But now, now she wanted to give him something, to show how much she… Her thoughts ground to a halt as an uneasy suspicion prodded her. She pushed it aside. She simply wanted to show him how much she appreciated him, even if all she had to give was her trust.

“Yes, I’m sure. I know that you would never hurt me.” Despite her conviction, her voice was a little shaky, and he immediately reached down to stroke her back.

“The doctor said not to get upset.”

“I’m not. I’m nervous, but I want this to be our First Mating. Don’t you?”

“If you could see how desirable you look, you wouldn’t even think to ask. This beautiful, luscious ass.” He bent forward and kissed one cheek with a sweet sucking kiss that made her wiggle happily at the delicious sensation. “These beautiful pink folds, already dripping for me.” He stroked two fingers through her folds, briefly circling her clit. “This sweet little cunt.” One finger this time, slipping inside her tight channel. “This gorgeous little asshole.” Another finger, probing at the tiny entrance between her cheeks, and she fought the urge to flinch. Her only experience there had been pain.

He must have read the tension in her body because he didn’t push, simply circled the tightly clenched orifice over and over, murmuring endearments as he awakened nerve endings that she didn’t know existed, until she quivered with expectancy, rather than fear.

“That’s better.” He dropped more kisses on her bottom cheeks, then stood up. “But let’s make you more comfortable. With easy strength, he lifted her fully onto the bed, then pushed pillows beneath her to support her stomach, before climbing up behind her. Her legs were still spread, and she fought the urge to close them, feeling vulnerable despite the desire that still sang in her veins.

“You are so beautiful, sweetheart.” His words helped, and she didn’t jump when she felt the warmth of his body behind her. “Now, where was I? Oh, yes, exploring all of your delightful assets.” Once again, he resumed his path, pressing sucking kisses to her bottom, stroking her folds, teasing her clit, probing briefly at her pussy and then her ass, until all she could think about was the desire that was rising in her. Her breasts ached, her nipples throbbed, and her clit pulsed a demanding beat between her legs.

“Rast,” she gasped.

“Yes, sweetheart.”

“Please. I need you inside me.”

“Your wish is my command, my consort.” With the words he moved, and she felt the tip of his glorious cock pressing at her entrance. Despite her wetness, her tissues were swollen with need and he had to work his way in, his cock stretching and twisting against her insides, sending streaks of sensation through her channel. He hit a spot that made her cry out with pleasure and he paused there, rocking back and forth, dragging the veins of his cock over the sensitive flesh until her whole body seized and she clamped down on him as she shook with pleasure.

Rast dropped down over her back, keeping his weight off of her but his warmth comforting as he kissed her neck and whispered sweet things until she calmed. Then he gave a little thrust of his hips and her arousal spiked again.

“Did that help, sweetheart? Is your sweet little cunt satisfied now?” His warm breath in her ear sent shivers up her spine. He gave another small thrust, just enough to drag his thick cock against that same sensitive spot, and she moaned.

“Rast, don’t tease me.”

“But I love to tease you, sweetheart.” Another slow stroke had her trying to push back against him, but he was much too big for her efforts to have any effect. “You know, I’ve been spending all of my time on your delectable bottom half. Perhaps I need to spend some time on your equally delectable upper half.” His teasing words couldn’t disguise the hunger in his voice and her pussy pulsed, tightening around his cock until he groaned but he didn’t move.

Instead, he reached underneath her, gently massaging her breasts before working his way to her nipples. He tugged gently at the hard peaks, twisting and rolling them between his fingers until they began to throb and tingle, until she felt a sudden dampness. His hands jerked in surprise and fell away.

“What happened?” She turned her head to see him lift his fingers to his mouth. He sucked on them, a stunned look on his face.

“Milk,” he said. “You’re preparing to feed our child.”

The shock turned to lust and his hips snapped forward, no teasing stroke this time, but a full thrust that lit her on fire with pleasure. He kept one hand on her breast, squeezing and pulling with a frantic urgency that sent a line of heat straight to her clit. His other hand grasped her hip, holding her in place as he set a demanding rhythm that had her crying out with pleasure and trying to push her hips back more, trying to take him deeper.

“That’s right, sweetheart. Let me feel you fucking me, let me feel that tight little cunt squeezing me, milking me just like my hand is milking you.” His words sent her over the top, her whole body shaking as she convulsed around him, as she heard his answering groan and felt his warmth flooding her insides.

Rastrath slipped reluctantly from Deb’s tight warmth as he collapsed on the mattress next to her, pulling her with him so she was cradled in his arms as his heart pounded. Every time with her was better than the time before but this had been amazing. His cock was still stiff, still ready for more, but he would never take the risk of hurting her. Rolling her gently to her back, he lifted up on one arm so that he could see her face. Long lashes fluttered open and he was relieved to see nothing in her eyes except sleepy contentment.

“Thank you, my Consort.”

The corners of her mouth lifted. “For what?”

“For trusting me. I couldn’t have asked for a better First Mating.”

“I do trust you, you know. I wanted to show you how much.” Her eyes turned dark and solemn. “Thank you for saving me, for saving my baby. Again.”

An odd dissatisfaction plagued him. Those weren’t the words he wanted to hear from her, but he knew if he told her that, it would only distress her, so he nodded and changed the subject a little. “Our baby now, sweetheart. Does that bother you?”

“No.” An arrested expression crossed her face and she repeated slowly. “No. It really doesn’t.” She slid her arms around his neck. “I’m glad that he’ll have a father. I’m glad that you will be his father.”

Happiness filled him as he bent his head and kissed her, a long lazy kiss where he delighted in her sweet taste and the welcoming warmth of her mouth. When he finally raised his head, he felt the cool air on his chest and looked down to see wet spots where her breasts had had been pressed against his chest. He could see little beads of white on those long dark nipples and tried unsuccessfully to ignore the immediate response from his cock. Her gaze had followed his and now her eyes widened.

“Oh. I guess I’m leaking. I’m sorry.”

“Never apologize for nourishing our child.”

“I’m afraid it’s going to be a little messy.”

“Then I will just have to help you clean up.” Unable to resist any longer, he ducked his head and licked her nipple. The sweet taste exploded in his mouth and he licked again and again, switching from side to side to capture every delicious drop before he realized that she was clutching his head, her fingers curled around his horns and accentuating his arousal. Because of her past, he always tried to be careful with her breasts, but he had forgotten in the unexpected pleasure. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

He started to lift up, but she pulled his head back down with surprising urgency. “No, don’t stop. That feels really good.”

Relaxing at her approval, he finally gave into temptation and sucked carefully on one distended peak. More milk filled his mouth and she murmured encouragement, so he sucked harder and then harder still until she was arched up against him. He switched to the other side, delighting in her moans of approval, while he slid his hand into the slippery warmth between her legs, thumb working her clit as he slid first one, then two fingers inside her. With a startled cry she came again, her tight little cunt enclosing his fingers in silken heat while another spurt of milk filled his eager mouth. His cock ached, but he ignored it, focused only on his consort’s satisfaction. When he raised his head, he saw that his mouth had left her breasts pink, her nipples reddened but he couldn’t find it in himself to feel guilty when he saw the look of pleasure on her face.

“That was amazing,” she hummed. “I’ve never felt anything like that before.” She smiled up at him, then wrinkled her nose. “But what about you?”

“I’m fine,” he lied.

“Don’t be silly. I’m way ahead of you on the orgasm scale. It’s your turn now.” She gave him a sultry smile and reached for his eager cock just as a fist pounded on the door.

“We’re about to take off. Does your lady want to watch?” Athtar’s overly jovial voice echoed through the door. Rastrath clenched his jaw to avoid the obscenities he wanted to spew. That bastard knew what he was doing. He was about to shout a dismissal when he looked down to see Deb eying him eagerly.

“Do you want to see?”

“If you don’t mind. I may have been on a ship before, but I’ve always been confined.” A shadow crossed her face and he dismissed his aching cock once more.

“Very well, sweetheart. Let’s get dressed so you can see what it’s like.”

Five minutes later, Rastrath led her onto the bridge. Deb’s eyes widened as she looked around. It really did look like something out of a sci-fi movie, if a little seedier. There was a wide viewing screen across the front with two consoles facing it. At one desk was a slender woman with green skin, dark green hair, and the pointed ears of a fairytale elf. The other desk was manned—or more accurately, womanned—by a type of alien she had never seen before. Even seated, the woman was obviously tall, her height emphasized by a tall black crest which crowned her wedge-shaped head and flowed down her back. Fine black scales covered her skin and sharp spikes jutted back from her elbows.

Deb tore her gaze away, trying not to stare and saw Athtar, sitting in a chair behind the desks and eying her with amusement. She tried, unsuccessfully, not to blush and prayed that the double layer of fabric inside her top would prevent her breasts from embarrassing her. As amazing as it had been to have Rast sucking on them during their love making, she didn’t want to walk around with wet spots all the time. Just the memory made them tingle and she quickly realized that she needed to focus on something else.

Four more chairs made up the back of the bridge and Rast led her there, carefully arranging the buckles around her stomach as he strapped her in before he sat next to her and did the same.

“How does it feel to be back in your old seat?” Athtar asked.

“As uncomfortable as ever,” Rast answered, and made a face. “When are you going to buy some new chairs, you cheap bastard?”

“Gotta buy some engine parts first,” Athtar responded, then grinned when he saw the expression on her face. “Don’t worry, Consort. She’ll fly right enough.”

Biting her lip, she tried not to worry about it. Now that she was looking, she could see that while everything looked clean, there were obvious signs of wear. Rast’s chair had a frayed cushion, the paint had rubbed away from part of the nearest wall panel, and most disturbingly, there was a crack in the console in front of the green woman. Her teeth clamped down harder on her bottom lip, but Rast reached over and took her hand.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. She may be a little worn, but The Dancing Lady is one of the best ships in the quadrant. And Athtar, despite his many, many faults, is one hell of a captain.”

“Why thank you, Your Royal Highness. Can we leave now?”

“You may proceed,” Rast replied, his voice so serious and his tone so commanding that she stared at him. He looked very…princely and the phrase married above her station flitted through her head. But then he turned and grinned at her and she relaxed. He was still her Rast.

Chapter Eighteen

The takeoff was surprisingly smooth after an initial shaking rumble that had Deb’s hands clutching the armrests nervously. As the ship climbed, more islands appeared on the view screen, scattered randomly across the waters. She watched in awe as they cleared the horizon and all of Sherae came into view below them. From this height she could see the seas covering almost the entire globe, with only a few specks of pink from the largest islands visible.

“It’s so beautiful.”

“It is, isn’t it?” Rast sounded almost surprised and she turned to find him studying it thoughtfully. For the first time it occurred to her that she didn’t know what would happen after they met with the Emperor.

“Will I be coming back?”

“Do you wish to return?”

“Yes.” She didn’t even need to think about it. If she couldn’t return home, she wanted to stay on this beautiful, peaceful planet. A planet where she seemed to have found her place. Marious had found a moment in their hurried departure to get her alone and beg her to return. Of course, he had also asked her to bring Rast back. But she had no power over him. A marriage of convenience didn’t give her the same right to influence her husband that a real wife would have. Her heart plummeted but she forced a smile and asked casually. “And you? Will you return?”

From the look he gave her, she suspected she might have been a little too casual. “I assure you, my Consort, that—”

An alarm sounded, and Deb jumped.

“Proximity alarm.” The green skinned woman spoke for the first time. During the take-off, she had been focused on her console, while the black-skinned woman murmured into her headset in a low humming voice which Deb found oddly hypnotic.

“Problem, Ultana?” Athtar asked, as calm as ever.

“No. There was an unannounced incoming ship. We’re clear. Kanithe, send a message to ground control about that ship. That kind of recklessness usually means trouble.”

“Trouble?” Rast and Deb spoke at the same time.

Ultana turned to look at them and shrugged. “In my experience. Captains that don’t obey basic safety precautions usually don’t care much about any other kind of regulations, either.”

Rast nodded. “Can we hail them? No visual on our end.”

Kanithe turned to her console and a face appeared on the viewing screen. Deb started to shake but managed to keep from crying out. The captain of the other ship was Derian, although no one she recognized. Rast reached for her hand, the warmth of his reassuring grip in strong contrast to his icy voice as he spoke. “Identify yourself.”

“Why should I tell you anything?” the man sneered.

“Because I am Prince Rastrath and Sherae belongs to me. Who are you?”

The man’s eyes flickered. “I work for Commander Thrull. He sent me to pick up his property.”

Deb’s bones turned to water at his words. She clung to Rast’s hand as hard as she could and curled the other arm over her stomach. He couldn’t have her baby. The words echoed over and over in her head until her panicked brain finally calmed enough to process Rast’s response.

“He has no property here.”

“He said he’ll return the bitch after the child is born. He just wants the child.”

Rage covered Rast’s face, but his voice remained calm and icy. “There is no child of his, either. His former property is now my Consort. Her child is now my child.”

“What the fuck? You can’t do that.”

“I not only can, I already have. Now leave. Return to your master and inform him that he has no business here, now or ever.”

“He ain’t gonna like it.”

“I have no interest whatsoever in what he likes. I hope to have the pleasure of informing him of that in person at a future date.” Rast’s voice was deadly and Deb shivered. No matter what, she didn’t want him anywhere near Master.

The screen went blank, but they all sat silently. After a long minute, the green skinned woman spoke. “He’s leaving.”

Deb sagged in her chair, and then burst into tears. She’d barely finished the first sob when Rast was there, picking her up and cradling her in his arms as she sat back down.

“Don’t let him take me.”

“He’ll never lay a finger on you again,” Rast promised. “You heard what I said. Now he knows he has no claim.”

“But what if he doesn’t believe you? He already sent a ship after me. I don’t understand why he’s so determined to take my child.” Her voice was an anguished cry and she saw Rast and Athtar exchange looks.

“Does he have any other children?” Rast asked gently.

The question startled her enough to penetrate her misery. She forced herself to remember. “I don’t know. I never saw any children, even from the other slaves, but I wasn’t allowed out very often. Why?”

“Even an evil bastard like that might want an heir.”

“I don’t care. He can’t have my baby. And you said you wanted to meet him. You can’t do that. I can’t let you be hurt because of me.” Her hands clutched at him, trying to make him understand.

“Ssh, sweetheart.” He held her close, murmuring softly, until she calmed. When she finally stopped crying, he lifted her chin with one finger and kissed her so sweetly that she almost started again. “That’s better.”

Deb gave him a shaky smile and was about to bury her head in his neck when she remembered their audience. She snuck a quick peek and saw that Athtar looked murderous, Kanithe had her head bowed, and Ultana was frowning. “I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologize for, sweetheart,” Rast said firmly.

“Indeed not. Don’t worry, Consort. We will not let anything happen to you.” Ultana said seriously, and Athtar nodded emphatically. Kanithe raised her head and gave her a small smile.

“Thank you.” She smiled back at all of them, a little overwhelmed by the show of support after having been alone for so long.

“What’s going on up here?” a deep voice rumbled. She turned to see who had entered and squeaked. A gargoyle stood in the doorway, huge, grey skinned, and complete with a bald head, pointed ears, a massive set of tusks, and an even more massive set of wings.

“Grabon, good to see you again,” Rast said. The gargoyle fixed bright green eyes on him and gave a very emphatic sniff.

“I see the little prince is back. Are you pretending to work on this trip?”

“Nope,” Rast said easily. “I’m paying for it so I’m just going to sit back and enjoy the ride. Of course, if you aren’t too busy protecting the ship from all of your invisible enemies, we could do a little training.”

The man scowled, looking even more terrifying. “Anytime, little prince. Anytime.”

“Grabon is head of security,” Rast told her. “He fancies himself a fighter but he’s too big to be much competition.”

A frightening grin split Grabon’s face and Deb suddenly realized that they were teasing each other, just like her brothers would have done. The man’s gaze dropped to her and her stomach and softened to an amazing degree. “Did you bring me a patient?”

“He’s also the medic,” Rast added. “I hope not, Grabon. Dr. Mako says she’s in fine health, but she needs to rest and eat properly. He did send her records along. I’ll send them to you.”

“Eat? Did someone say food?” Another figure pushed impatiently at Grabon. “Out of the way, you big bird.” He managed to slip past Grabon and enter the bridge. Her ability to be shocked must have worn off because she barely blinked when she realized he had four arms, four eyes, and was covered in green scales. The newcomer ignored Rast, focusing directly on her and giving her what she had to admit was an exceptionally charming smile. “Well, hello there, pretty lady.”

“Drop it, Studoc.” Rast growled. “She’s mine.”

“Of course, she is. But I can admire from afar, can’t I?” He closed two of his eyes in an outrageous wink and she had to bite back a laugh.

“From very far away.” Rast turned back to her. “Studoc pretends to be a mechanic whenever he isn’t seducing starving women into giving him their last speck of food.”

“I’m deeply hurt,” Studoc protested. “I would always leave the last speck.” He swept Rast a bow and everyone laughed, even the huge man still standing in the doorway giving a snort. She looked around at the grinning faces, remembering how easily Rast had slipped into their banter, and realized that this was his real family, the one he’d never had during his royal upbringing. And they were accepting her into it as well, as surely as if she were truly his bride. Warmth filled the hole that had been there since she had been taken from her family and she relaxed back against Rast with a contented sigh.

For some reason she didn’t quite understand, despite Studoc’s attempts to explain it to her, most journeys around the area of the galaxy controlled by the empire took five to ten days. This one was on the shorter side and six days after they boarded, they were in orbit around Kaisar. It dominated the view screen as they waited while the ship was scanned, and they were given permission to land. She had enjoyed the journey immensely, and had spent time with everyone on board, although Rast accompanied her more often than not. There were two additional crew members she hadn’t met the first night—Thynmirr, a small, blue furred alien who was training with Studoc, and Birgraz, a red scaled alien who worked with Grabon. He, too, was rather large and intimidating but he was so obviously respectful and shy in her presence that she never found him frightening.

Despite what she had thought was a jest, Rast had been serious about training with Grabon and the two met each day to spend an hour or so in various types of combat. After her initial fright at the speed and violence with which they moved, she enjoyed watching them—so much so that a training session was almost inevitably followed by a much less violent and even more enjoyable session in their cabin.

She also enjoyed sitting with Studoc while he tinkered with one of hundreds of pieces of equipment and gave lessons to Thynmirr. He liked telling her tall tales of the hundreds of planets he’d visited. Rast was less enthusiastic about those visits, although she didn’t think for a moment that Studoc was anything other than an errant flirt, but Rast’s possessiveness also resulted in some extremely hot cabin time.

Perhaps because of those cabin times, her breasts continued to leak at inopportune moments and she finally screwed up the courage to approach Grabon. To her relief, he didn’t make her feel uncomfortable but listened to her with the same calm, professional air that Dr. Mako possessed.

“I could give you something to stop the flow,” he suggested.

Rast, who of course had insisted on accompanying her, made a smothered sound of protest and she had to fight back a grin. He had made it quite clear how much he enjoyed sucking on her breasts and she enjoyed it just as much. But when she looked at him now, he only sighed. “It is your decision, sweetheart. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

“Could the pills affect my ability to nurse once the baby is born?”

“They shouldn’t but human anatomy is new to us.”

“Then I don’t want to take the risk.”

“Hmm.” Grabon considered for a moment, then dug into a drawer, emerging with a box of small pads and a roll of something that looked suspiciously like duct tape. “These are designed for wounds, but they should work. They’re highly absorbent and the tape will not damage your skin.”

His solution had worked, and she was wearing her bandages now, beneath the fanciest dress she had ever worn. “Are you sure you want me to wear this?” she whispered again to Rast.

“Of course. It is attire fitting for my consort.” He was using his princely tone, but then he dropped it and grinned at her. “Besides, we match.”

He’d bitched a lot while putting it on, but she privately thought he looked magnificent in a tight-fitting black tunic, shot through with gold threads that caught the light when he moved and accented his well-defined muscles. A heavily embroidered and jewel encrusted belt accented his slim waist and there was even a cape, fastened on one shoulder with a jeweled brooch as big as her palm.

“When did you have this made for me?” she asked, stroking the matching fabric that made up her gown.

An uncomfortable look crossed his face. “Just before the opening of Parliament, when I had those outfits made. It occurred to me that something might happen where I might be forced to claim the crown. If I did, I wanted you at my side, just like I did at the opening.”

Tears sprang to her eyes, his actions even more convincing than his words. “Dammit, Rast, why do you have to be so sweet?”

“Because you deserve sweetness, my Consort. I would do anything to give you the happiness you deserve. I—”

Athtar banged on their door. “Permission granted. We’re descending now if your lady wants to watch.”

Damn Athtar and his interruptions. What had Rast been about to say? She thought—she hoped—that maybe he was about to say that he loved her. Neither of them had said it yet but it hovered on her own tongue many times over the course of the journey. She couldn’t even be sure exactly when she had admitted it to herself, but she suspected that she had started falling in love with him on the very first day when he stopped and held her hair while she was ill. Not perhaps the most romantic moment, but his kindness then had started thawing the ice in which she had wrapped herself.

Seeing him on this trip, relaxed and happy, and spending almost all of their time together had been the final step, the knowledge not sweeping over her like a tidal wave but creeping in during unguarded moments—watching him drop Grabon to the mat, then laugh and help him up; when he curled protectively around her in his sleep, his hand warm on her stomach; the pain in his face during the infrequent times he mentioned his mother. Now it felt like she had always loved him, but she still hadn’t had the courage to tell him. She knew he cared for her, but she couldn’t help but wonder if it was really love, or just the protectiveness of an innately chivalrous man mixed with his undeniable desire for her body.

“Worried, sweetheart?” Rast asked softly, and she realized she’d been staring at the floor while she argued with herself.

“No, my prince. Not as long as you are at my side.”

“Then shall we proceed to the bridge?” He bowed and offered her his arm with a courtly gesture but spoiled the gallantry with a wink.

“You look like Studoc when you do that,” she teased, knowing that his eyes would turn the dark blue of a stormy sea.

“I do not.”

“Now you’re pouting like him, too.” Laying her hand on his arm, she tugged him gently toward the door.

Chapter Nineteen

The planet grew larger in the view screen as they descended, but unlike Sherae, Deb didn’t find it at all beautiful. Most of the planet was covered by one large land mass and as it grew closer, it seemed as if one city sprawled across the entire continent.

“Isn’t there any natural area?” she asked.

“There are gardens, of course, but no, nothing is left of the natural world. I don’t think anything that wasn’t artificially cultivated has grown here in thousands of years.”

Her mind struggled with the concept of a civilization still intact after so long. “What is here instead?”

“Most of the space is devoted to the bureaucracy. It requires millions of people to keep the records and collect the taxes and make sure the Empire functions. The military has a big presence as well, and their most prestigious training academies are located here. And of course, there’s the Senate and the Imperial Palace. Plus, most of the royal family and many of the planetary leaders have their own separate estates.”

“Do you have one?”

“Yes, although I only go there to remind Proctral that I exist and that it does in fact belong to me.” A shadow crossed his face. “I wasn’t brought up there and I don’t enjoy being there, but it is mine by right.”

“Do you have more family there?” He had never mentioned anyone else but coming from her own large family, it was hard to imagine someone without a ton of relatives.

“No.” He shrugged with a casualness she was sure he didn’t feel. “I’m distantly related to most of the other houses, but the House of Brekaran has always been a small one. That’s one of the reasons why my grandfather wouldn’t permit my mother to abort me.”

“So, no one lives there?”

“Just Proctral and an army of sla—servants.”

Would she ever get used to the knowledge that slavery was so much a part of their culture? She shuddered, grateful once again that chance had brought her to Sherae, and to Rast.

“But you were brought up in the Imperial Palace?” she asked.

“Yes, my grandfather preferred it. That’s where we are heading.” His voice was not enthusiastic.

“Unless you need us immediately,” Athtar said. “I’ll land long enough for you to depart, then take the ship over to the port to trade our cargo. We should be back by nightfall.”

“That’s fine. I don’t know how long it will be until we can see the Emperor, but I sent a request for an appointment as soon as we were within range. I’ll arrange for quarters.” Rast’s face lightened and he grinned at the other man. “Unless you’d rather go and stay with Proctral.”

“That little worm would shit his pants at the sight of me. It would almost be worth it.” They both laughed, then Athtar shook his head. “Naw. I’d just as soon be close. We’ll be back tonight. All of us, if I can keep Studoc out of trouble.”

“Then I’ll tell the steward not to expect him,” Rast said dryly.

The ship was lower now and Deb grew increasingly dismayed at the pictures on the screen. They passed over an area of enormous pointed skyscrapers, before heading for a series of square buildings, piled together like children’s blocks carved out of dark stone. Everything was massive, impressive, and intimidating and her pulse quickened. “It’s so big.”

“Yes,” he said grimly. “The Kaisarian Empire doesn’t believe in doing things on a small scale.”

As if to prove his words, they touched down on an enormous landing field, almost empty of other vessels. Rast sighed, unfastened his straps and then hers, and helped her to her feet before turning to Athtar.

“Please come to my suite when you return. I’ll let you know if I’ve heard anything.”

“I’ll be there.” Athtar nodded, then grinned. “I’ll be sure and knock first.”

Rast laughed as he drew a cloak around her shoulders, adjusting it carefully before tucking her hand through his arm and assuming his princely mien. “Come, my Consort.”

As Rastrath had expected, his steward was waiting at the end of the landing ramp. Unlike Marious, no emotion ever crossed his perfectly subservient face, he obeyed instantly, and Rastrath trusted him about as much as he’d trust a hungry linae cub with fresh meat.

“Prince Rastrath.” Utaski bowed so deeply his nose almost hit his knees. “We are delighted at your return.”

“I’m sure you are.” Behind them, Athtar revved up the engines, so Rastrath led the way across the field, issuing instructions along the way. “The ship will be returning tonight. Arrange for quarters for the crew. There will be seven of them. The finest quarters, Utaski.”

“Of course, Your Highness.” They stopped at the edge of the field and Utaski bowed again. “And for the lady…” He cast a discreet glance at Deb and despite Rastrath’s dislike for the man, he had to admire his refusal to show any curiosity.

“This is Debra, of the House of Morgan. The Princess Consort.”

Utaski’s eyebrows actually rose a fraction of an inch and he stuttered. “The P-princess Consort?”

“That is what I said.”

“Forgive me, Your Highness, but does your brother know?”

Rastrath raised an eyebrow. “Why would he need to know?”

“He is in residence at the present time.”

He cursed silently but kept his face composed and waited.

“He is occupying the Yellow Suite,” Utaski continued. It took more effort to keep for him to keep his face calm this time. The Yellow Suite was designated for the consort of the heir. Proctral should not be staying there, although at least he hadn’t quite had the nerve to take over Rastrath’s own rooms.

“It doesn’t matter,” Rastrath said, waving his hand in a way that would have made his grandfather proud. “Mistress Debra will be staying with me.”

“Yes, Your Highness.” Amazing how Utaski could convey disdain with the merest flick of an eyebrow. He wondered again if he should replace him, but for all his faults, he was an excellent steward and maintained strict control over the household whenever Rastrath was off on one of his frequent trips.

Deb’s face had remained calm throughout the exchange, but her fingers were trembling, and he covered them with his own. It was only as he felt her small fingers beneath his that he realized how much her presence here was helping. If he had returned on any other occasion to find his brother in residence, he would already be furiously dreading their meeting and snapping at Utaski. Now all he wanted was to get her to his rooms, his brother’s presence no more than an annoyance.

“Did you bring a transporter?”

“No, Your Highness. Forgive me. You do not usually—”

At that moment a gust of wind swirled across the landing field and plastered Deb’s cape to her body, clearly revealing the swell of her stomach. Utaski’s mouth actually dropped open, although he recovered remarkably quickly.

“I see, Your Highness. I will return with one at once.” He scurried away every bit as rapidly as Marious would have done in the earlier days of his visit.

“What an odious little man,” Deb murmured.

“I quite agree, sweetheart, but why do you say that?”

“All that bowing and scraping and smiling, even though he obviously doesn’t like you.”

“You are quite correct, as always. He doesn’t like me. But then I don’t like him, either. I put up with him because he’s good at his job.”

“No wonder you left here to work for Athtar. I just don’t understand why you ever came back.”

“My grandfather sent for me. I thought I had rather cleverly disappeared, but it turns out he’d been keeping an eye on me the whole time. When he became ill, he wanted me to return.”

“So you came back here.”

“I did. I stayed until he died.” It had taken a year for his grandfather to die, becoming increasingly frail and irritable with each passing day but he could never find it in his heart to regret that time. He couldn’t even say that they had grown closer, but still he valued the fact that his grandfather had wanted him there. Unlike his mother.

“I’m sorry.” Deb’s soft voice pulled him back from his bitterness. “What happened then?”

“I was Head of my House and I had duties. At first, I tried to spend as little time here as possible when my presence wasn’t required. I even used to ship out with Athtar periodically.” He smiled reminiscently. “But then I got involved with tracking my despicable cousin’s activities and had to stay closer than I would have preferred.”

Deb’s hand turned to clasp his. The hood of her cape had blown back from her face and the wind caught tendrils of hair, lifting them to catch the light and show the sparks of flame hidden in the dark waves.

“You’re very beautiful, my Consort.”

The color rushing to her cheeks only enhanced her beauty but she shook her head. “Very windblown you mean. Is it always like this?”

“We are at the start of the winter season. But once we are within the palace itself, everything is perfectly controlled. It could be any time of the year. Even the gardens are regulated.”

“How terrible. I like knowing what the weather is like; to feel the breeze and hear the ocean. It’s so nice to have the shutters open all the time at home—” Her color deepened. “I mean on Sherae.”

Did she consider Sherae their home? Would it even matter to her if he was there with her? Before he found the courage to ask, she had rushed on.

“If everyone is so afraid of the weather, I’m surprised they have an open landing field.”

“This is one of the few that remains. That’s why there are so few ships here. That’s also why I’m stubborn enough to land here and force Utaski out of the palace.”

She laughed. “You are an evil man, Rast.” Then her eyes widened. “Oh my God, it’s a golf cart. The fanciest one I’ve ever seen, but it’s still a golf cart!”

Looking over his shoulder, he saw Utaski approaching in the transporter. “What is golf?”

“It a game that people play with balls and long clubs and…never mind. It’s not important. I just wasn’t expecting it.”

“We can walk if you prefer but it is quite a long way and I do not want to tire you.”

“Believe me, I would much rather ride. This is fine, I was just surprised.”

Utaski came to a halt next to them and Rastrath carefully helped Deb into the vehicle. He felt somewhat disgruntled and he realized that he had unconsciously expected her to be impressed by the Imperial Palace, not to be amused. However, as he climbed in after her and she snuggled against him, he realized that the fact that she had always responded to him as a man, rather than as a prince, was one of the reasons she had come to mean so much to him.

As Utaski shuttled them smoothly through the great doors and along one of the many passageways leading to the inner palace, her eyes widened. The Palace was divided into many sections, each belonging to a different function or Royal House. The sections were surrounded by massive black stone walls, their elaborate surface decorations an inadequate disguise for their original defensive purposes. As the transporter wound through the canyons of stone, she huddled closer.

Utaski stopped the transporter outside the doors that led to the section of the Palace belonging to House Brekaran. As Rastrath helped Deb from the vehicle, Utaski threw open the doors with his usual flourish.

“Welcome, Your Highness.” When Rastrath glared at him, he added hastily, “Welcome, Mistress Debra.”

They passed through the massive doors into the outer courtyard and Deb gasped. He tried to see it through her eyes—the inlaid paths, the artfully arranged plantings, the orchestrated drip of the fountain, all of it immaculately maintained by an army of landscapers that Utaski oversaw. It was without a doubt beautiful, but he suddenly found himself longing for the palace on Sherae and its lush greenery and wild abundance of flowers. He slanted a glance at Deb and wondered if she felt the same way.

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t the eldest bastard.” The sneering voice was only too familiar, and he turned from Deb to the much less pleasant sight of his brother leaning against one of the pillars separating the courtyard from the loggia.

“Proctral.”

His brother ignored him, studying Deb instead. From the lack of surprise on his face, Rast could only assume that Utaski had already communicated the news.

“This is who you chose as the Princess Consort? Some mongrel from a primitive planet—”

That was as far as he got before Rastrath had him backed against the pillar, his knife at his throat. Proctral looked shocked and terrified. No matter how much Proctral had poked at him in the past, Rastrath generally just ignored him, even though his barbs had stung. He’d never laid hands on him before but now fury was singing through his veins.

“I have chosen the finest woman I have ever met as my consort. You will show the utmost respect for her at all times. If I hear even one whisper against her, you will be banished not only from the Palace, but from the family estates for as long as I live. Do you understand me?”

“Y-yes,” Proctral managed to choke, and Rastrath dropped him.

“Then get out.”

Proctral slumped against the pillar and started to open his mouth, looked at Rastrath’s face and closed it again. Instead, he stood up, straightened his robes, and left without another word. Still angry, Rastrath turned to Utaski.

“That applies to you, as well. I am head of this House and if you cannot give me your complete loyalty then you need to find other employment.”

“I understand, Your Highness.” Despite his expressionless face, he still managed to have an air of offended dignity that Rastrath didn’t believe for one moment.

“Very well. Please send refreshments to my suite. The requirements for Mistress Debra’s diet should have been sent along with our luggage.”

“Yes, Your Highness. I will verify that immediately. Do you wish me to escort you?”

“It hasn’t been that long. I think I can find the way. You are dismissed.”

Utaski gave an offended bow and departed. Rast sighed and turned to find Deb watching him, her eyes unreadable. Concerned that she was upset by his anger, he was shocked when she simply came and hugged him. Her stomach made the position somewhat awkward, but he didn’t care, relishing the feel of her soft body against his and the warmth on her face when she looked up at him.

“There’s a saying on Earth—poor little rich boy. It means that someone can have many material things but not have the things that matter. I’ve only met two people since we’ve arrived and I’m already sorry that you had to grow up here. How did you turn out so well?”

“Did I?”

“Yes, you did. You’re kind, brave, thoughtful, and did I mention extremely hot?”

“Hot?”

“It means sexy. The way you slammed that asshole brother of yours against the column?” Her voice dropped to a husky whisper that had his horns pulsing. “Very hot.”

“You deserve no less.”

“Still sexy. I assume this suite of yours has a bedroom?” Her smile turned sultry and she ran a finger along the neckline of her gown, drawing his attention to the bounteous splendor of her breasts. “I think you deserve a…reward for defending my honor.”

He didn’t need any additional encouragement. With a delighted laugh, he lifted her into his arms and headed for his suite at his fastest pace.

Chapter Twenty

“More, oh God, Rast, more.” Deb’s hand clutched the sheets as she tried to throw her hips back, but he held her in place easily as he continued the slow twisting strokes in and out her of her clenching pussy. She was bent over in front of him as he entered her from behind. After their time on the ship, this position no longer held any fears for her, and it accommodated the restrictions of her pregnancy.

“Not yet, sweetheart. I think you can wait a little longer.” He stopped with his cock just inside the entrance to her pussy. “You look so beautiful like this, your sweet little cunt clasping me so tightly.” He traced the point where their bodies were joined, the sensation exquisite against the swollen tissue, before trailing his finger up to tease her pucker. “Can you take more?”

She shuddered in a mixture of fear and desire. He had played with her ass many times now but only on the outside. Although she loved the sensation, the thought of going further still intimidated her because of how badly it had hurt in the past. But this was Rast. He would never hurt her.

He pressed a little, very delicately, loosening the tight ring of muscle. “Can you, sweetheart?”

“Yes,” she whispered. Instead of pressing harder, he returned to circling the little rosebud while his cock pushed deeper into her pussy. When he reached her most sensitive area, he slowed, dragging back and forth in tiny increments that nevertheless had her muscles tensing in anticipation. He found her engorged clit with his other hand and fluttered a finger against it with the same small movements until her climax caught her by surprise, washing over her in slow waves of pleasure, extended by the exquisite stretch as he finally pushed his finger into her ass.

Her orgasm continued to roll over her, as the dual pressure of his thick finger and massive cock kept her suspended on the edge of pleasure, her body clamping down on the invaders, until at last, she gave a final shudder and went limp.

“Perfect.” Rast’s voice was hoarse and strained, his cock rigid and swollen inside her. Knowing that he was waiting for her, she rolled her hips back. The movement released him, and he started moving, plunging inside her with long forceful strokes that dragged his amazing cock along every inch of her pussy while his finger matched the rhythm, sending her climbing once more until she felt him shudder, felt his hot seed wash over her insides as she cried out and followed him.

He removed his finger, the sensation unexpectedly pleasant, but kept his cock buried inside her as he rolled them gently to one side and kissed her neck. “All right, sweetheart?”

“Yes, that was wonderful.” A lump filled her throat. “You’re always so careful with me, Rast. Even though I still get scared, I know you would never hurt me.”

“Of course not. I…care very much for you.”

While she couldn’t help but appreciate the words, they weren’t exactly what she wanted to hear. But wasn’t she holding back as well? Her heart urged her to tell him that she loved him, but she couldn’t bear to think that he might feel obliged to return the sentiment, regardless of how he actually felt. And caring was…good. Perhaps for now, it was enough.

“I care for you, too,” she whispered, and felt his arms tighten briefly before his hand moved to its familiar place on her stomach.

“How is our son?”

The baby kicked as he did so frequently in response to Rast’s voice, and she laughed. “Hungry, I think.”

“Then I will see if Utaski is his usual unpleasant but efficient self.” He started to turn over, but she put her hand over his.

“Is it because of him that you don’t trust people to care for you?”

His hand clenched, but his voice was steady when he responded. “Not him specifically, but yes, people like him.”

“I’m sorry.” She raised his hand to her lips and kissed it. “You deserve so much more.”

“Deb, I—”

The communication panel next to the bed chimed softly.

“I’m seriously considering removing every single one of those damn things,” he muttered as he reached for it. “Yes?”

“His Most Imperial Majesty, Emperor Karthajin, Supreme Leader of the Kaisarian Empire, Defender of the Nine Gods, Chosen of Napisten, and Ruler of the Crystal Throne, has granted you an audience. He will receive you in the Chamber of Supreme Harmony this afternoon for tea,” said an unfamiliar voice.

“Very well.”

The panel chimed again as the connection closed.

“That sounded very, um, impressive.”

“Everything sounds impressive around here,” he said bleakly. “Everything looks impressive, too. But there is a lot of emptiness behind those facades.”

“Is the Emperor—” Rast put a gentle hand across her mouth and shook his head. She nodded but she didn’t like the implication.

“Come, sweetheart, let’s feed our son.”

“Of course.” She accepted the change of subject but couldn’t suppress the sinking feeling in her stomach.

By the time they stood outside the Chamber of Supreme Harmony that afternoon, her sinking feeling had developed into a full-on nervous stomach. After they had eaten, Rast had accompanied her into a very large and, of course, impressive shower where he had whispered in her ear that every room in the palace was under surveillance and a mention of the Emperor’s name would trigger additional monitoring. He then proceeded to distract her quite satisfactorily but the thought of that kind of power made her a little queasy.

It didn’t help that it took what seemed like an army of servants almost two hours to prepare them for this audience. Elaborate, stylized makeup covered her face. Her hair was in a complicated and far too tall up-do, while the stiff, heavily embroidered gown was so heavy that she felt like she was carrying another baby. Rast, of course, looked magnificent, but he also looked more like a forbidding alien prince than her familiar lover. His hair had also been arranged in an intricate style, throwing his horns into prominence and enhancing his demonic good looks. She shivered, and he immediately reached for her hand.

There was a soft, protesting hiss from their guide but he ignored it.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. Everything will be fine.” Looking up at his face, she focused on his familiar blue eyes and she relaxed. Her Rast was still there. She squeezed his hand and reluctantly let it drop.

Their guide stepped forward and threw open the doors.

“His Royal Highness, Prince Rastrath of the House of Brekaran, and the Princess Consort, Lady Debra of the House of Morgan.”

Beyond the door was another extravagant room. They had passed through at least ten of them on the way here, each one filled with a decreasing number of courtiers who observed them discreetly and whispered about them, not quite so discreetly. They were stopped at each new threshold to be scanned and approved before they passed through. Two guards waited at this doorway, also, huge bull-like aliens with massive horns and short brown fur. Unlike at the previous stops where they had merely been scanned with an assortment of devices, this time one of the guards reached for her arm.

Rast growled and inserted himself between them. “You do not touch her.”

“Then you do not proceed,” the guard replied in a harsh, rumbling voice.

“I don’t care. You are not touching her.”

“Rast,” she said softly. “I know this is important. It’s all right.”

“No, it’s not.”

“By Napisten’s Horns, enough.” A third male appeared. His skin was a true dark red and he had short dark curls that clustered around his horns. Unlike Rast’s striking blue eyes, his were totally black, with only a narrow red pupil to break the darkness. She noticed enviously that he was only wearing a light-weight gold silk robe and flowing pants.

“Rastrath, you know they aren’t going to hurt your woman. And Warnax, do you really think that this small female, this small pregnant female, is going to hurt me?”

“She could have a weapon concealed under there.”

“If she has a weapon that made it through each of the previous stations undetected then you should be looking for a new job. Let them in.”

“Yes, Your Imperial Majesty.” The guard bowed his head and stepped back.

This was the Emperor? This extremely handsome but obviously young man who was even now giving them a careless grin. He ruled the Kaisarian Empire?

She remembered that she was supposed to bow and started to lean forward, but the weight of the gown combined with the mass of her stomach threw off her equilibrium and she lost her balance. Before she could panic, Rast caught her and pulled her against him. Another hiss sounded from behind them, but he glared over his shoulder at their guide and didn’t release her.

“I think under the circumstances, we can dispense with formal protocol.” The Emperor shook his head. “Come through to the garden.”

He led the way through the room, this one empty of anyone other than the three of them, adjusting his pace when he saw how slowly she was moving. The long walk and heavy gown had worn her out and her knees still trembled at the close call, terrified of what would have happened if Rast hadn’t caught her. With a muffled curse, Rast lifted her into his arms.

“You can’t,” she whispered frantically.

“I admit this gown is ridiculously heavy, but I assure you, I’m quite capable of carrying you.”

“But—” She tried to nod discreetly at the Emperor but when she looked in his direction, he was grinning, the red sparks dancing in his pupils and giving him a remarkably devilish appearance.

“Don’t worry, Consort. I said we could dispense with protocol.”

Her cheeks flamed, and she buried her head in Rast’s neck, letting his cool ocean scent soothe her, as they passed through another set of doors, a long columned portico, and finally emerged into a garden. Although it was still formal, the soft curves and soothing green colors were a welcome respite from the ornate palace. The Emperor led them to a small furnished building in the center and gestured them to a long, low couch. The guards had followed them and now assumed positions on the building’s veranda, surveying the garden.

Emperor Karthajin lounged on a second couch and studied Rast. “A second audience in such a short time? Don’t you trust me to take care of matters on Trillium?”

“Of course, I do, Your Imperial Majesty.”

The Emperor waved a hand. “We’re alone. You can call me by my name, cousin. Since you didn’t ask, I’ll tell you that your suspicions were correct. We have established communications with the Trillites. They are quite intelligent and highly distressed by our behavior.”

“Wouldn’t you be?”

Karthajin raised a haughty eyebrow, then sighed. “Of course. I have placed the planet under permanent protective custody. And I find myself glad that Ustrod had that unfortunate…illness.”

“Most unfortunate. However, I’m afraid there’s additional news.”

Rastrath hesitated, and Deb slipped her hand into his as if she sensed he needed reassurance. His instincts told him that Karthajin could be trusted, even though his years in the palace had taught him not to place his faith in anyone. If he revealed the information about the planet destroyer only to find that Karthajin was no better than his father, millions of lives would be in danger. Still, the Emperor’s actions on Trillium had been exemplary and reinforced his first instincts. When it came right down to it, he really didn’t have a choice.

“Is this location secure?”

Karthajin’s eyes sharpened but he merely pulled a small device out of his pocket and pressed a button. “It is now. No one can see or hear our conversation.”

“Ustrod’s crimes did not stop with the slaughter of the Trillites. He financed a new weapon, one capable of destroying a planet.”

“Sardor,” Karthajin said, nodding thoughtfully.

“You knew?”

“Not until now. But after his death, I had him—and his death—investigated.” He gave Rastrath an unreadable look but continued dispassionately. “I knew that he hated the Sardorans and of course, everyone knows the fate of Sardor. It’s not a difficult conclusion to reach.”

Rastrath suddenly had the uneasy feeling that he might have underestimated Karthajin. It appeared that his youthful face and careless manner concealed a remarkably sharp mind.

“Is there another weapon?” Karthajin asked, confirming his suspicions.

“I believe so. I had an investigation performed and I believe that we have located a laboratory.”

“Did it occur to you that I have considerably better resources to undertake that type of investigation?” Karthajin’s voice had gone cold and he looked every inch an Emperor. Deb’s hand tightened around his.

“Yes, Your Imperial Majesty,” he said evenly. “However, until I knew that my suspicions were correct, it seemed more judicious to keep the knowledge as limited as possible.”

The Emperor studied him and Rastrath kept his face impassive, even though he knew this man could have both of them put to death with no more than a word. He doubted that anyone would even question it if they both disappeared today. Finally, Karthajin sighed and his face relaxed into its previous casual mien.

“I suppose you’re right. But next time you come across a weapon of mass destruction, you will come to me first. Understood?”

“Yes, Your Imperial Majesty.”

“Where is it?”

“We believe it is on Hothrest, although the lab appears to be run by the Elginar.” Rastrath didn’t like revealing that information, either, because one of the Emperor’s three chief councilors was Elginar; however, given the previous conversation, he didn’t think he could get away with concealing it.

“Elginar?” Karthajin shook his head. “Tanaca isn’t going to like that. And on Hothrest? They’re more likely to start shooting at my troops than to cooperate, even when they know they’ll be defeated. This is going to be messy.”

“Perhaps an undercover approach would be more successful?” he suggested carefully. “They have a very active port with a number of people coming and going.”

“Imperial troops sneaking on to a planet by stealth? How unconventional.” Karthajin grinned, looking like a carefree boy rather than an emperor planning a military campaign. “I like it. I assume you have the logistics?”

Rastrath pulled out the small disk and passed it over, hoping once again that his trust had not been misplaced. “The man who performed the surveillance is here on the planet as well, if you have additional questions. I should mention that because the activity didn’t cease with Ustrod’s death, I suspect he had a partner.”

“I agree.” The Emperor looked thoughtful. “Those who assisted you in this investigation—do you trust them?”

“Completely.”

“Very well. I will review this personally, then decide if I need to speak to your informant in person.”

“Thank you, Your Imperial Majesty. You should also know that he believes they are close to completion.”

“Of course, they are.” Karthajin sighed, and for a second looked tired and much older, but the brief glimpse vanished, and he resumed his youthful persona. Rastrath wondered which of his many faces actually reflected the real man but his musings were cut short at the Emperor’s next words.

“But now I believe we have one more subject to discuss—this illegal union of yours.”

Chapter Twenty-One

Deb had been silent up until now, nestled against Rast’s side as he talked to the Emperor. The man confused her, switching from casual to awe-inspiring with ease, but she hadn’t been particularly frightened until now. Her heart began to pound, and she sat up straight.

“Illegal?” she asked through trembling lips.

“Any heir to a Royal House is required to obtain my permission before the ceremony,” he replied, not unkindly but quite firmly.

“There were extenuating circumstances,” Rast said.

“Really? Because it appears to me that this is another circumstance where you proceeded as you saw fit and chose to inform me afterwards.” Obviously, he had not dismissed Rast’s actions as easily as he had appeared to.

“I came to you immediately after the ceremony, but I needed to send a clear statement to her former master. He is pursuing her.”

“Master? She is your slave?” Karthajin sighed and shook his head.

“No. After I purchased her, I freed her, as permitted on Sherae.”

“Do I even want to know why her former master is pursuing her?” The Emperor shot a discerning glance at her stomach. “Is it his child?”

“No, he is mine.”

Karthajin raised an eyebrow. “Biologically?”

“No,” Rast admitted reluctantly.

“You know, there is precedent that he has a claim.”

“No.” The word escaped before she could prevent it, an anguished cry. Black spots appeared in her vision and the room began to spin. The last thing she heard before she slipped into unconsciousness was Rast cursing at the Emperor as he reached for her.

When she opened her eyes again, Rast had her cradled in his lap and was holding a drink to her lips. The Emperor stood behind him, looking concerned, but she had seen too many expressions cross his face to trust this one.

“Deb,” Rast said gently, drawing her attention. “Sip this, sweetheart.”

She didn’t have the strength to argue. Frightened and weary to her very bones, she opened her mouth obediently and took a small drink. It was a little bitter but not terrible, and as she sipped a few more times, her pulse rate slowed, and everything took on a pink, dreamy quality.

“What is this?” she mumbled.

“A healing broth and a mild sedative. Perfectly safe for the child,” a new voice spoke, and she slowly turned her head to find a stranger had joined them. Tall and slender, with long white-blonde hair, pale blue skin, and pointed ears, he reminded her of an elf, and she giggled.

“I believe that’s enough, Prince Rastrath,” the stranger said, and she watched regretfully as the cup disappeared. “Would you like me to remain, Sire?”

“Does she need further assistance?”

“Not as long as she is kept calm.” There was a hint of reproach in the doctor’s words.

“Very well. You may go.” The Emperor turned back to her and a new expression crossed his face, one of regret. “I’m sorry, Mistress Debra. I was punishing Rastrath but I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

“Not illegal?” The words came out slurred.

“Technically, it’s still illegal,” Karthajin said, and Rast growled. The Emperor ignored him. “But if I approve it, that will not be an issue.”

“If?” Deb whispered.

He hesitated, and she clutched her stomach. “My baby. Not his.”

“Yes, yes,” he said quickly. “Your child. Prince Rastrath informed me of the circumstances. You should never have been taken from this Earth of yours. The child will remain with you no matter what.”

“Then why are you frightening her by talking as if you might not approve our union?” Rast scowled.

Karthajin sighed. “I think you are forgetting the Imperial Laws regarding inheritance in the Royal Houses. Any heir must be at least one half Kaisarian blood. She is obviously not Kaisarian and I suspect that the biological father is not, either. If you take her as consort and claim her child as your own, as your heir, you would have to forfeit your position as head of the House of Brekaran.”

Even though her fuzzy pink haze, she could feel Rast’s body tense.

“So Proctral would inherit?”

“Yes, he would inherit any House property such as the apartments here and the estate. Your personal inheritance and properties would, of course, remain your own.” He shot a look at Rast that she couldn’t read. “In order to avoid losing your inheritance, you would have to renounce her as Princess Consort, although you could still give her a lesser position such as Chief Concubine.”

“But then I would have no legal claim on our son.”

“Correct. However, I will not permit the child to be taken from her under any circumstances, so your claim is not necessary to protect him.” The Emperor smiled at them both. “You don’t have to decide now. I can give you a few days to weigh the consequences.”

Deb tried to make sense of what the Emperor was saying but only two things stood out—he had promised that she could keep her child and if Rast stayed bound to her, he would lose everything. She remembered his brother’s sneering face and knew she couldn’t ask him to keep his vow. Now that the baby was safe, the original reason for their union no longer existed. Desolation filled her, in spite of the lingering effects of the medication.

His body relaxed, and she braced herself, waiting for him to tell her that he would have to release her. She thought he cared enough to at least want her around and Chief Concubine didn’t sound…bad, exactly. Rast looked down at her and a soft smile crossed his face. “I don’t need time. I’ve made my decision.”

Despite the healing potion, her chest hurt but she forced a smile. “I understand. You can’t give up your birthright.”

“No, sweetheart, you don’t understand. That birthright has been nothing but a weight around my neck since the day I was born. I will gladly give it up in exchange for you and our son.”

“But your brother—”

“Doesn’t matter,” he said firmly. “You matter. Our child matters.”

Happiness bubbled in her veins and her eyes filled with tears. The words emerged without any hesitation. “Oh, Rast, I love you so much.”

An answering happiness lit his face, blue eyes sparkling. “I love you, too, sweetheart.”

His mouth descended over hers and she lost herself in his kiss. It wasn’t until she started to arch against him that she remembered that they weren’t alone and drew back, her cheeks flaming. He didn’t let her go far, keeping her snug against his chest as he looked at the Emperor.

“What now?”

“Now I approve your union.” The Emperor grinned, looking like a carefree boy again. “Although I suggest we keep your brother in suspense while you make any necessary arrangements.”

“Does he know about the law?”

“I doubt it. It’s a more obscure provision and your brother has never struck me as particularly intelligent.”

“But you knew?”

Karthajin shrugged. “I was well tutored in Imperial Law.” There was a weight of meaning behind the casual words. “Now go. Since I have the distinct feeling that you intend to carry your consort out of here, I will have Warnax show you a more discreet passageway so that you won’t offend the countless officials surrounding us.”

“Thank you, Karthajin.” Rast bowed his head. “I appreciate this more than you can know.”

“I understand more than you realize.” Another expression flashed across his face too fast for Deb to read but she wondered how much the burden of being Emperor weighed on him. But thoughts of the Emperor disappeared as Rast rose with her in his arms.

“Come, my beauty. We should celebrate.”

They followed the guard out through a concealed panel and down a series of utilitarian corridors that were a distinct improvement to the procession of overly decorated rooms they had passed through on the way in. Not to mention that being snuggled in Rast’s arms was much better than fighting the weight of the gown. She gave him an anxious look. “Am I too heavy? This gown weighs as much as I do.”

“Not all, sweetheart.” He winked. “Although I am anxious to get you out of it.”

She nodded at the guard and whispered, “Ssh.”

“Don’t worry. I’m sure Warnax has heard much worse than a prince—a former prince—anxious to get his consort naked.”

She rolled her eyes at him, then touched his face gently. “Are you really sure about this?”

“Yes, I am. I would have given it up regardless if it meant I could have you and our son, but now that I have, all I feel is relief. I should have done this years ago.”

“But then we wouldn’t have met. You wouldn’t have saved me. You wouldn’t have loved me.”

“Then it was worth every miserable minute.” He started to lower his head to kiss her and the guard grunted. “Oh, very well, Warnax. Lead on.”

They emerged through another concealed panel into a passageway that looked like every other one she’d seen—a wide tiled walkway surrounded by massive dark stone walls that towered above her. Beyond their reach, a shimmering barrier replaced the sky, presumably part of the climate control for the Palace.

Rast nodded approvingly. “Thank you, Warnax. This is perfect.”

The guard grunted again and disappeared.

“Not very chatty, is he?”

“The Emperor’s guards are very dedicated—and very well paid.” He didn’t sound impressed.

“Meaning?”

“They are Bukharan. They have a reputation for complete loyalty—while under contract.” He shrugged. “I just wonder how long that loyalty would last if the credits ran out.”

“Is that likely to happen?”

He laughed. “No. The Imperial Family is definitely not short of funds.” He had been walking while they talked, and now he stopped in front of one of the seemingly identical walls and pressed a section of the carving. A red light illuminated his finger, then a panel opened, and they stepped through into the passage leading to his rooms.

“That’s amazing. How did you know where we were? It all looks the same to me.”

“I know every inch of the palace. All of the private sections have their own secrets, of course, but remember, I grew up here. I liked to explore, and I found a number of hidden ways. There wasn’t much else to do when I wasn’t being instructed on my inadequacies as the heir to a Royal House.”

Despite his facetious tone, she could hear the bitterness and hurt behind the words. She put her arms around his neck and hugged him. He relaxed into her touch for a long moment before he raised his head.

“Thank you, sweetheart.” He carried her through into their bedroom and finally set her down, but even then, he lingered, letting her slide slowly down the length of his body. “Shall we get you out of those clothes?”

“Oh, yes, please.”

Moving behind her, he released enough buttons that the weight of the elaborate gown took it the rest of the way, leaving her clad only in an equally elaborate, but much lighter, undergarment. The bodice cupped her breasts before the skirt flared out in layers of translucent silk that were designed to support her skirts.

“This is a much more attractive outfit,” Rast murmured as he surveyed the way it presented her breasts and showed flashes of skin through the sheer fabric.

Deb looked at the flowing layers of while silk and laughed. “It is kind of like a very sexy wedding dress.”

“Wedding dress?”

“What I would have worn on Earth if I married—joined—with someone there.”

He frowned at her. “You are joined to me now. Forever.”

“I know.” She smiled at him. “So, it’s appropriate, isn’t it?”

“What would this wedding have involved?”

“Oh, much what we have already done. Exchanged our vows, signed some papers. Been congratulated by our friends and family.” A lump appeared in her throat. She couldn’t regret falling in love with Rast, but she had always imagined her family around her on her wedding day. She wondered what they would have thought of him. She suspected he would have won her mother over easily, although her father would have taken longer to come around. Her sisters would have thought he was hot, although her youngest sister was quite likely to have demanded a blood sample. And her brothers—they would have been busy teasing her about her alien husband. A tear overflowed.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart? Are you regretting this? I thought you wanted to stay with me but perhaps, now that the baby is safe…”

He had gone stiff again, but now she recognized his discomfort and took his hands, staring intently into his face.

“I don’t regret it at all. I meant what I said, Rast. I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I just…I miss my family and I wish they were here.”

“I could arrange to have them brought to us,” he said, so seriously she could only stare at him.

“What?”

“It’s highly illegal, of course, but it could be arranged for the right price.”

The temptation to agree almost overwhelmed her, but she finally shook her head. “It wouldn’t be fair to them. As much as I miss them, I couldn’t do it.” She forced a smile. “Besides, you’re no longer a wealthy prince, remember?”

He laughed. “Actually, that’s not quite true. Did you notice that the Emperor specifically reminded me that my personal property was still my own? My grandfather was a very successful courtier; he was not a very successful businessman. He only left my brother a small inheritance and he has gone through most of it. He will be in for a very unpleasant surprise once he takes over.”

“But what about you?”

“When my mother died, the entailed portion of her estate came to me. I’m sure she would have preferred to leave it to my brother, but our inheritance laws required that it came to me as her eldest child. As it turns out, I do have a knack for business. I may no longer be a prince, but I am a very wealthy man. I have been supporting both this place and the Brekaran estate for several years. Neither you nor our son will ever need to worry about credits.”

“I wasn’t worried,” she assured him. “In fact, I was quite prepared to support you. Assuming I still have a job. Or did you lose Sherae as well?” That thought distressed her. She wouldn’t miss this place and its elaborate forbidding walls, but she would miss the pink palace surrounded by ocean.

“We did not lose anything on Sherae; it came to me from my father.”

“I’m glad, but I’m tired of talking about wealth and politics.” She slanted a look at him from under her lashes and trailed a finger down his chest. “You could say this is our wedding night. Our real First Mating.”

His uniform was too stiff for her to see if his body reacted, but his eyes burned blue flames. “What did you have in mind, my Consort?”

“I noticed earlier that this place had a bathing pool.” Actually, it was more like a swimming pool but that was even better for her purposes. “I thought we might take advantage of something else you received from your father.”

“I believe that could be arranged.” He swept her off her feet once more.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Despite the soft weight of Deb in his arms, Rast felt as if a tremendous burden had been lifted from his shoulders. He had told her the truth, he would always have chosen her and their son over being Prince Rastrath, heir to the House of Brekaran, but he hadn’t expected the peace that had settled over him as a result of the decision. Being Prince had been so important to him for so long, first as a shield against the contempt of others because of his mixed blood, then as a duty imposed upon him by his grandfather. But now that he had renounced it, his only sorrow was a fleeting regret over the shame that his brother would no doubt bring to the House.

As he carried Deb into the bathing room, he couldn’t help but wish he would be there to see Proctral’s face when he realized that he had inherited a title and some heavily mortgaged property, and nothing else. And without Rast to pay the bills, the creditors would be calling. But this was his, what had Deb called it? wedding night, and he wasn’t about to waste it on thoughts of his brother.

The bathing room was oriented around a large pool, boulders and plants artfully arranged around the edges in an effort to mimic a natural pool. It was beautiful, of course, but far too manicured to appear natural, and once again, he found himself comparing it unfavorably to Sherae and his pool there, surrounded by completely natural rocks and awash in sunlight, with the ocean lapping in the background. Still, it was more than adequate for what he had in mind.

Heedless of his uniform, he walked straight into the water until he could place Deb on one of half-submerged boulders. The water rendered her already translucent skirts completely see-through, and he took a moment to admire the pale curves as he jerked impatiently at the complicated fastenings of his own outfit. She lounged back against the rock, watching him with heated eyes, and licked her lips as he managed to remove the jacket and expose his upper body.

His horns throbbed an insistent beat and his cock pulsed against the confining fabric of his pants, aching to be released. He breathed a deep sigh of relief as he stripped off the rest of his clothes. Her eyes had gone immediately to his cock and she licked her lips again. Damp circles appeared around each dark nipple, clearly visible through the thin fabric, and his mouth watered, already hungry for a taste of her sweetness. He took one step forward, hooked a finger in the low-cut neckline, and ripped the fragile cloth apart.

“Oh, my.” Her eyes widened, and she gave a little shimmy that made each bountiful curve quiver.

“You are so beautiful.”

“I’m so pregnant, you mean.” She looked down at her body, a rueful expression on her face.

“Beautiful,” he released firmly. “All that soft, ripe flesh just waiting for my touch. Gorgeous breasts ripe with milk, swollen, fertile stomach…” As he spoke, he gave each delicious part a teasing caress. “And of course, this perfect little pink cunt.” Even through the water, he could feel her slick warmth. “Where do I start?”

“Anywhere you want. Just please start.”

Refusing to be hurried, he kept his hand between her legs, but only danced lightly over the eager flesh.

“Rast, please.” Her hands had gone to her breasts, tugging at her nipples until white drops gleamed on the distended peaks.

“What do you want, sweetheart? A little attention here?” He leaned forward and nudged her hand out of the way so that he could take a long delicious pull. Fighting the urge to linger, he raised his head so that he could watch her face.

“Or perhaps here?” With no additional warning, he plunged a finger into her entrance delighting in the way her tight little cunt fluttered and clamped down on him. His cock gave a reflexive throb against her leg and she reached for it.

“Two can play that game,” she warned, dancing her own fingers far too lightly over his aching shaft. Regretfully, he shifted back, away from temptation, and before she could complain, submerged. Sounds became muted as he dropped beneath the surface, his gills expanding and the nictitating membranes covering his eyes. He gently pulled her legs apart and moved closer, taking a moment to appreciate the delicate pink folds before he took one long, slow lick. The artificial water of the palace was nowhere near as pleasing as fresh ocean water but he ignored it and concentrated on her delicious taste instead.

Even diluted by the water, her flavor flooded his senses and he groaned with pleasure. Her clit was already engorged, peeping from its protective hood and her entrance fluttered again. Suddenly too impatient for a leisurely seduction, he thrust his tongue into her channel, fucking in and out with rapid, demanding strokes. She reached for his head, clutching his horns in the way that always sent an additional jolt to his already aching cock. Abandoning her sweet cunt, he stroked his tongue over her exposed clit, licking it again and again until he felt her hands tighten, felt her shudder and come. Normally, he would have stopped and given her a chance to recover but his need was too intense. He barely paused before resuming the demanding strokes, forcing her to come again, and then again before he finally raised his head up out of the water.

Gods, she was beautiful. And she was his, all his, for the rest of their lives. Emotion and desire vied for dominance as he studied her amazing body, sprawled across the rock in wanton satisfaction. Her face was pink, eyes heavy, and her body still quivered, but she smiled up at him. “That was amazing.”

“You are amazing, sweetheart.” He tried for a light-hearted tone, but his need was too great, his voice hoarse, and her eyes widened. Without saying another word, she raised her legs, bringing them around his hips and using them to urge him forward. He didn’t hesitate, his cock already delving for her entrance, so hard he had no need to guide it as he found the hot little hole. His hips jerked, and the tip of his shaft was encompassed in wet heat. Electric ripples of pleasure spread from where they were joined, and he had no control left. He thrust harder, forcing his way into the tight channel with one hard push, shuddering as his whole length was gripped so firmly that he could barely move.

He looked up to find her watching him, her face glowing. “I love you, Rast.”

The words echoed in his head, words she was the only one to ever say, and something broke free inside him. Pleasure so intense it was almost painful swept over him and he lost any semblance of control, gripping her hips to hold her in place as he thrust in and out, losing himself in the ecstasy of her body, in the softness of her eyes, in the wonder of her love. His balls tightened, lightning streaking from the top of his spine to the soles of his feet as he lost all sense of rhythm, all sense of place, only focused on the need to lose himself inside her body, until at last, he exploded, his seed jetting from him in wave after wave of pleasure, only dimly aware that she was pulsing around him once more.

He collapsed to one side, avoiding her stomach, but pulling her as close as possible as his body shook. She held him just as tightly, stroking his back and murmuring soothing noises, until he finally raised his head to look at her. She lifted a hand to his cheek, and he was shocked to realize that his face was wet. He felt…odd, light and free, and happier than he’d ever been.

“Are you all right?” She was studying his face, still smiling but with a hint of concern in her eyes.

“I’ve never been better,” he said honestly. “You know that no one has ever said that to me before?”

“Never?” Now she looked first appalled, then angry.

He shrugged. “It doesn’t matter.” And it no longer did. “I’m glad that you were the first one to say it.”

“And I’ll keep saying it,” she promised, then gave him a teasing smile. “I think this was a pretty successful wedding night, don’t you?”

“I don’t know,” he said, then grinned at the shock on her face. “Because it’s not over yet, sweetheart.” Then he kissed her.

Deb rolled over in bed, her body awkward, and a little sore. After their second interlude in the pool, Rast had carried her to the bed for rounds three and four. He hadn’t been quite as fierce, but he had been every bit as passionate and her muscles were protesting.

“Where are you going?” he murmured sleepily, and she looked back to find him watching her, his face relaxed and happy. When they had been on Sherae, he had often been light-hearted, but she had never seen him quite so content. She couldn’t feel it within her to feel any guilt about what he was renouncing in the face of his happiness. She smiled, a matching happiness in her own heart.

“Your son is bouncing on my bladder.” She started to scramble awkwardly out of bed, but she’d barely moved before he reached over and picked her up, rising easily to his feet and carrying her toward the bathroom. “You don’t have to carry me everywhere. I’m clumsy, not incapable.”

“I enjoy carrying you. I would be quite happy to make sure that your feet never touch the ground again.”

“That wouldn’t be good for me, or the baby,” she informed him sternly, hiding her smile.

“Then I suppose I must let you down,” he said sadly, as they reached the bathroom and he deliberately rubbed her across his once again hard cock on the way down. Despite the soreness, her clit gave an eager little pulse, but she ignored it.

“Aren’t you ever satisfied?” She spoke with the same mock sternness, but to her surprise, he grew instantly serious.

“You satisfy me completely, Deb. Even if I were never to enter your body again, I would still be the happiest man in the galaxy just to be by your side.” The ready tears sprang to her eyes and he gently smoothed them away before giving her his wicked demon smile. “However, unless you refuse me, I mean to enter it again, and again, and—”

Her traitorous pussy fluttered but she gave him a gentle push toward the door. “We can discuss that later. Much later. Now, shoo.”

When she emerged from the bathroom, she was disappointed to see that Rast was already getting dressed. He’d pulled on loose silk pants but was reaching for an elaborately patterned robe in vivid shades of blue and green with heavily embroidered cuffs.

“Do we have to get dressed up again?” she sighed.

He stopped with one arm inside. “Why, no. I suppose we don’t. I’m so used to dressing flamboyantly while I’m here, I didn’t even think about it.”

“I didn’t see anyone wearing anything like that earlier.” The courtier’s robes had all been elaborate, but they tended toward dark shades, plum and burgundy and black, rather than the bright sapphire and jade he had chosen.

“That was always my point. They were already so horrified by my differences that I chose to accent them. It also didn’t hurt that they tended to dismiss me as an incompetent fool as a result. It’s amazing what you can learn when everyone simply ignores you.” He spoke lightly, and she couldn’t see any pain on his face, but she wondered just how much that had hurt over the years.

“Who cares what they think? Especially now.”

“Agreed.” He tossed the robe to one side and pulled on an open neck silk shirt that revealed a very nice expanse of muscled chest.

“Much better. But why are we getting dressed?”

“Athtar called a few minutes ago. He’s joining us for a late meal. The Emperor also left a message stating that he would take care of the problem and no further assistance was needed.”

“That sounds like a dismissal.”

“Very definitely. Would you care to go back to Sherae now?”

“I would love to.”

“Let’s see if there is anything to keep Athtar here. And while you look very attractive wrapped in a towel, it would probably be best for all of us if you dressed as well before he gets here.”

“I think this is the first time you’ve ever wanted me to put on clothes,” she teased. As she walked past him, she casually let the towel drop. He growled and caught her around the waist, pressing against her from behind with one arm around her breasts and the other below her stomach. There was something erotic about her naked body pressed against his fully clothed one and she leaned back against him. He cupped her breast, tugging lazily at her nipple and she could feel his cock rising against her back, but all he did was continue the gentle pull while he stroked her stomach. The baby kicked, but even that was muted. Happiness filled her as they stood together in the quiet room, a family.

A bell chimed.

“And that will be Athtar. Get dressed, sweetheart.” But he lingered long enough to give her a slow, sweet kiss before left.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Rastrath found Athtar waiting in the smallest reception room, the one usually reserved for second level merchants. Although he knew Athtar wouldn’t care, it was borderline insulting that he had been shown there and he shook his head. The sooner they were away from this place the better.

Athtar was leaning against the wall, looking even bigger and more imposing than usual against the refined decor. Instead of his usual harness, he was wearing a ragged fur coat, and he scowled at Rast as he entered.

“Why don’t you get rid of that fucking sour faced old bastard?”

“What did he do now?” Rast sighed.

“He objected to Precious.”

“Precious?”

“Meet Precious.” Athtar opened his coat to reveal the most bedraggled, pathetic looking animal Rast had ever seen tucked into an inside pocket and cradled against his chest. Barely larger than Athtar’s hand, it had large, bulbous eyes in a broad homely face with only thin slits for its nose and ears. Its skin was a mottled brown, falling in big folds and appearing much too big for the small animal.

“What the hell is that?”

“Pardorian War Beast.”

“War Beast? That?” He’d never seen one, but he’d heard they were smart, vicious fighters. It was hard to believe that this tiny creature could be one. But then it yawned, the mouth opening to almost the size of its head and revealing multiple rows of sharp teeth. Rast took a step back.

“Why do you have it?”

“Because the fucking owner was abusing it. Look.”

Sure enough there was a band of inflamed skin around the thick neck and when he looked closer, he could see welts along its back.

Rast sighed. “Bring it with you. I was tempted to have us served in the state dining room, but I doubt that that thing is trained.”

“Is Utaski insulting me again?” Athtar grinned. “Why do you even care?”

“Because you’re my friend and he should treat you with respect for that reason alone. But I don’t suppose it matters any—” He paused in mid speech, remembering that between Imperial security and the typical House politics, they would most probably be under surveillance. He moved to the wall panel. “Utaski, bring refreshments to the Temple Room. Personally. Remember to accommodate Mistress Debra’s requirements.”

“Of cou—” Rastrath ended the call.

Athtar roared with laughter and he grinned back, his annoyance appeased by his own rudeness. “Come on. Let’s go see if my consort is ready.”

Deb had dressed in one of her Sherae outfits, flowing pale blue pants with a matching airy top, and she looked cool and delicious.

“Hi, Athtar. Aren’t you hot in that coat?”

“Yeah. I just like having all the pockets when strolling the markets.” He shrugged it off, revealing the War Beast.

“Oh my gosh, who’s that? He’s so cute!”

Rast shot her a bemused stare but she seemed quite sincere.

“He’s a she. Her name is Precious.” Athtar said with a proud grin.

“Can I hold her?”

“Sweetheart, I really don’t think that’s a good idea.”

The other two ignored him and before he could stop her, she had the creature snuggled against her breasts. The memory of its teeth so close to that delicate flesh made him blanch but she looked so thrilled, he didn’t have the heart to protest, especially when it just wiggled happily.

“Aren’t you just the cutest little thing? Yes, you are. Such a good girl.”

Both Rast and Athtar stared at her as she talked to the animal and she blushed when she looked up and saw them watching.

“My family had a dog, back on Earth. I miss him, too. I know this isn’t exactly the same thing, but I—” She broke off and frowned down at the creature before lifting it closer to her face. “She’s been hurt. What happened?”

“Fucking owner. He had her tied to his stall and he’d hit her with a stick every time someone came by. Trying to teach her to be a fucking guard dog.”

“But she’s just a baby.” Deb looked adorably fierce. “I hope you taught him a lesson, Athtar.”

“Fucking right I did.” He tugged on one of his braids. “But that’s one reason I’m here. Things got a little heated. Might be best for me to leave soon, so I wanted to find out what was happening.”

“Come up to the Temple Room and I’ll tell you while we eat.” Rast led all three of them up to the roof pavilion. It was designed to look like an early temple, with views out over the Imperial Palace but, more importantly, what looked like ancient stone was actually a very modern material designed to block audio communications. He had had it built once he started investigating his cousin and needed a place to meet with his spies. Filmy curtains hung gracefully between the columns, but they, too, served a purpose, preventing visual surveillance as well.

After Utaski—his every muscle taut with offended dignity—served a light meal, Rast dismissed him and proceeded to fill Athtar in on the events of the day.

“Well, I’ll be a son of a three-armed sea witch. Can’t say I blame you for giving it up. You were never happy here.”

“You could have suggested it years ago.”

“Would you have listened?”

Rast shrugged, conceding the point. “Probably not. But with the Emperor in charge of stopping the planet destroyer and my abdication, we have no reason to stay. Can we leave tomorrow?”

“Aye. Grabon is refilling our fuel and loading cargo now.”

“Good. You can all spend the night here and we can leave in the morning.”

“Nothing you want to pack?” Athtar raised an eyebrow. “Lots of nice stuff around.”

“I have an ancient timepiece my grandfather always wore. The rest can stay. Of course, you see anything you want, feel free.” His attention was distracted by Precious. The animal had spent the meal on either Deb or Athtar’s lap, being fed tidbits which it took with great delicacy, and had only just been allowed down to wander around. Now, it apparently decided the ancient, and priceless, carpet draped artistically over the steps was the appropriate place to take a long, loud, and very smelly shit.

“I hope you’re going to clean that up,” he said through gritted teeth.

Athtar grinned. “Nope. I’ll let fucking Utaski take care of it.”

Even as he spoke, the other man appeared. “Your Highness. There is a message for you from the Palace on Sherae. They are under attack.”

Deb gasped and Athtar swore, but Rast was focused on Utaski.

“Under attack? What happened?”

“Here.” Utaski handed him the coded message. Anger roared through him so quickly and violently, the world turned red. Through the roaring in his ears, he heard Deb speaking and she sounded scared, so he forced the rage back.

“What’s happened?” she repeated, her eyes wide and frightened. He pulled her close but didn’t respond immediately.

“Athtar, we need to leave. Now. Is the refueling done?”

“Already checking,” he muttered as he worked his communicator, then looked up and nodded. “Yep. Done.”

“Let’s go.” He scooped Deb up in his arms and set off at a run, Athtar pausing only to pick up Precious before falling in behind.

“But, Your Highness, what do you want me to do?” Utaski called after them.

“I’d start looking for another job. My brother’s in charge now and I know for a fact that he’s flat broke.”

Despite the urgency of the situation, he took a second to appreciate the man’s shocked gasp before he concentrated on getting to the ship as quickly as possible.

“Rast?” Deb whispered urgently.

“I’ll tell you everything as soon as we are on board. I promise.”

To his relief, she sighed and nestled closer as he increased his speed.

The ship was a hive of activity, all hands stowing cargo while Grabon and Birgraz kept watch with highly illegal blasters at their hips.

“You really did stir up some trouble, didn’t you?” he said to Athtar as they headed up the landing ramp. “The armament isn’t about me.”

Athtar shrugged and grinned. “Kanithe came along just as I was getting started. Seems like she has a soft spot for animals as well and the situation…escalated.” He turned to the crew and yelled. “Leaving in five. If it ain’t on board, it gets fucking left. Including any fucking crew members who can’t be bothered to obey me.”

Rast took a quick look and realized that Studoc was missing. No matter how angry he was over the threat to his planet and his consort, he didn’t want to leave anyone behind. “Where is he?”

“Found some woman, of course. I warned him.”

“You can’t leave him,” Deb protested.

“Don’t worry, little mama,” Athtar said. “If he has to stay here until we come back for him, he can take care of himself. But he knows when I mean business, so I doubt he’ll push it that far.” A green figure appeared at the edge of the landing field, moving fast. “There he is.”

Studoc raced up the cargo ramp just as it began to rise. He was shirtless, shoeless, and his pants were unfastened but he was grinning. “Fuck, Athtar. I was balls deep inside the hottest little…” He spotted Deb, still curled in Rast’s arms. “Oops, sorry, Deb.” He grinned again. “Don’t mind me.”

“I don’t,” she said easily, returning his smile.

“Get to your post,” Athtar growled. “We’re leaving.”

“Yes, captain.” Completely unabashed, Studoc headed for the engine room. Athtar and Rast headed for the bridge at a run. Kanithe and Ultana were already in place as he strapped Deb into a chair.

“Go,” Athtar ordered.

“We’re still waiting for clearance.” Ultana replied calmly.

“Will they shoot us down as we leave?” Athtar asked with a glance in his direction.

“I’ve never heard of them doing that to a departing ship but—”

“Punch it, Ultana.”

The Dancing Lady took off with a roar of engines and he fell back into his chair, with a quick look over at Deb. He didn’t like how pale she was, but she smiled at him.

Once they were beyond the outer planetary defense, with no damage other than a litany of complaints and threats over the com board, Athtar turned to Rast. “Now, tell us what the fuck is going on.”

Knowing what this was going to do to her, he freed Deb from her straps, then sat back down with her on his lap.

“There’s a Derian ship in orbit around Sherae.”

“What?” she whispered. Her face turned so pale he could see the veins beneath the delicate skin.

“According to Marious, they just showed up, but they are threatening to bomb my palace if we don’t give you up.”

“The Palace? But all those innocent people—Marious, T’lik, everyone.”

“I ordered them to go into hiding immediately,” he assured her quickly.

“You know Marious won’t leave.”

He suspected she was right. “I trust him to know what he’s doing,” he said firmly, and was rather surprised to find that he believed the words. “I told him we were coming back as quickly as possible.”

“But if I’m not even there? What are they going to do?”

He exchanged a glance with Athtar and saw that he was looking as grim as Rast felt. “I don’t know,” he told Deb. “But whatever it is, we’ll handle it.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

The trip back to Sherae was nowhere near as pleasant as the trip out had been. Athtar was pushing the ship to its maximum, cutting the trip from six days to four. As a result, there was a constant low-pitched whine from the strained engines. Studoc lost his carefree demeanor and walked around muttering to himself when he wasn’t hovering anxiously in the engine room. Deb switched from fear to anger but both were taking a strain on her. He had to coax her into eating, and he could tell she was losing weight. The only time she seemed to relax was when she was playing with Precious or when they were making love. He had thought she might prefer to refrain but every night she turned to him with an almost frantic urgency. He couldn’t refuse her, but her desperation worried him.

The only one who actually seemed to relish the situation was Grabon. He and Birgraz increased their training sessions. One of the few times Deb smiled was when Grabon gravely assured her that he would be happy to bring her all of the Derians’ heads.

“Thank you, Grabon,” she said, smiling softly up at the big man. She patted his arm and Rast fought back the urge to snatch her hand away. Her touches should belong to him alone. However, the fact that she smiled made him happy enough that he was successful in suppressing his jealousy.

While Deb was occupied with Precious, he and Athtar plotted strategies. If there was only one or possibly two ships, The Dancing Lady had sufficient armament to handle them. If there were more, they’d have to rely on surprise.

“Kind of a shame you can’t call in an Imperial battle cruiser. Make good use of the fucking Fleet for once.”

“Hmm.” Rast stared at him. “You know, that’s not a bad idea. I seriously doubt that they are in contact with Kaisar on a regular basis. They won’t know about the change in my status and we are coming directly from Kaisar in response to their message. If we do encounter more than one ship, I think I can convince them that the Fleet isn’t far behind.”

Athtar guffawed. “You’re a devious bastard, Rast.” His face sobered. “One way or the other, we’ll take care of the mother fucker. Once he’s dead, your lady can stop worrying and start eating again.”

They both looked at Deb who was trying, not very successfully, to teach Precious to come. The War Beast was willing but so easily distracted that she couldn’t make it across the common room before getting sidetracked by a crumb or a shadow or a shiny reflection.

“She’ll make a good mother, Rast.” Athtar said softly.

“I know she will. I only hope I can be as good a father.”

“You will,” Athtar said sincerely, then grinned. “And if you fuck it up, I’ll be the first—well, the second—to let you know.”

Rast laughed as intended but by the time the ship emerged at the far edge of the Sheraen system, none of them were laughing. They hadn’t been able to communicate while traveling so as soon as they slowed down enough to receive transmissions, Kanithe checked for messages.

Marious had sent a somewhat cryptic note that the Palace was safe and not yet under fire. He didn’t like the not yet part. The second transmission made his blood boil. A grinning Derian appeared on the screen. Even by Derian standards, he was big—a huge, muscled brute with pockmarked blue skin and a crest of dark hair streaming back over his head. Red eyes gleamed with delight.

“I’m Commander Thrull. I hear you’re bringing my property back, little prince. Just as well. I’d hate to cause any more damage to this pretty little palace of yours.” The camera pulled back to reveal that they were in the throne room of the palace. The tapestries that usually adorned the walls had been ripped to shreds, the tiled floor scarred from attempts to pry up the inlaid stones. Thrull lounged on the throne—Rast’s father’s throne, his throne, with Marious at his side. All of Marious’s visible skin looked bruised and there was a cut under one eye, but he stood with quiet dignity, his fingers tapping against his arm.

“You’d better hurry.” Thrull’s tone changed from mocking to angry and he bared pointed yellow teeth. “I want my Gods damned property back. You can have the worthless slut, but I want that child first!” The transmission ended and Rast threw a chair across the room. Fortunately, Deb was not present. Kanithe had distracted her while he and Athtar viewed the messages.

“Well?” Athtar demanded. “What are we going to do?”

“Have we been able to determine how many ships he has?”

“Only one in orbit around Sherae, but it’s a troop transport. They can carry up to fifty.”

Rast frowned. “Hard to believe you can get that many Derians on one ship without them fighting each other.”

“You can’t, so there’s almost certainly less than that. The trouble is, we don’t know how many that leaves. We can take care of the ship, but the palace? If it’s anything close to a full complement on that ship, we’re seriously outnumbered. Don’t you have any fucking troops of your own?”

Rast winced. “There’s a small Guard, but they’re mainly ceremonial. I told Marious to have them leave with the rest of the palace workers rather than put up a useless opposition and get themselves killed. They couldn’t stand up to Derians. Which is one thing I will be correcting as soon as I get my throne back.”

“What was with that fucking steward of yours anyway? Standing there as calm as can be, tapping his fingers. Do you think he’s gone over to the enemy?”

“Never.” Rast felt another wave of anger at the memory of that small bruised figure, the only sign of the ordeal he must have been through in his restless fingers. Fingers… “Play it back,” he demanded. “Zoom in on Marious’s hands.”

“I’ll be damned,” Athtar said. “He’s counting. Tapping five fingers each time. Do you think he’s trying to tell us how many there are?”

“Yes. But is it five? Or some factor of five?”

They watched it again.

“Ten,” Rast said. “There’s definitely a longer pause after the first two sets.”

“Yeah, I agree. Ten Derians against the eight of us.” They looked at each other. Put like that, it didn’t sound bad. Unfortunately, while Derians weren’t disciplined fighters, they were large, vicious, and unscrupulous. Of the ship’s crew, only Rast, Athtar, and Grabon were trained warriors. Birgraz was learning but he was inexperienced. The others could handle themselves, especially Kanithe, but they weren’t used to combat situations.

“The nine of us.”

They both turned to see Deb standing in the doorway, pale but determined. He prayed she hadn’t actually seen the message.

“Sweetheart…”

“Sherae is my home, and he wants our child. I’m part of this fight.”

“Deb, you are extremely pregnant, and you are not a trained fighter. I know you want to help but you can’t take on a Derian.”

“Then find something else for me to do.”

Since there was only one Derian ship in orbit, they decided on a surprise attack rather than an attempt to frighten them off with threats of the Fleet. The ship was either unmanned or contemptuous of The Dancing Lady’s approach because it ignored them. It was a fatal mistake. As soon as they were within range, Athtar fired the highly illegal laser cannons concealed beneath The Lady’s bulkheads. He hit the engine compartment and the other ship exploded into flames. A triumphant roar filled the bridge.

“Good shooting, Athtar,” Rast said. “With any luck, they didn’t even get a message off, although at some point, the landing crew will probably try and contact them. How long do you think we have?”

Kanithe shrugged. “Standard protocol is to communicate once an hour. But I haven’t seen anything that indicates the Derians follow any kind of standards.”

“I agree,” Athtar said. “Let’s hope the Gods are with us and someone doesn’t decide to call back to the ship for his lucky pair of dice or something. Where do you want to set down, Rast? Even those idiots will be watching the landing field.”

“There’s a flat area on the far side of the palace,” Deb said, and they all turned to look at her. “They use it now to harvest Fru seed, but it was the original landing field. They built the new site because this one could only hold one large ship at a time, and it flooded if the waves were too high.”

“How do you know about it?”

“Because Marious has been teaching me about Sheraen history. If—when—we get rid of the Derians, you should ask him to teach you, too,” she said, raising an eyebrow.

“Is it big enough for The Lady?”

“I’m sorry. That I don’t know.”

“Ultana?”

“Already on it, Captain.” They waited silently, the complete silence the only obvious sign of tension on the bridge.

“We’ll fit. Barely,” Ultana said finally. “But it looks like the tide is coming in and it’s going to be high one. Our feet are going to get wet.”

“We should wait until nightfall. Easier to slip in undetected,” Athtar said, and everyone nodded except Deb.

“But what if they’re…hurting someone?”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, but Athtar is right. We need the element of surprise on our side. Another two hours should do it.”

Her fingers tightened. “Two hours can be an eternity.”

“I know.”

“Do you?” She laughed bitterly and left the bridge.

“Aren’t you going to go after her?” Athtar demanded when Rast didn’t follow her.

He sighed. “Of course I am, but it’s hard to reassure someone when you know they’re right.”

Chapter Twenty-Five

Deb closed the cabin door behind her, wishing it would slam instead of gliding quietly into place. The rational part of her brain knew that the others were right, knew that it made more sense to wait until after dark when they had less chance of being spotted. Unfortunately, the irrational part of her brain was screaming at her, reminding her of the damage that Master—that Thrull could do in two hours.

The door opened quietly but she didn’t look up. She knew it was Rast and she loved that he cared enough to follow her, but she didn’t have the strength to smile and pretend that everything was okay for his sake.

He didn’t say anything, just came and sat next to her on the bed. Despite her internal turmoil, her body eventually loosened a little and she leaned toward him. He put his arm around her but still didn’t say anything.

“He had a clock in his ‘playroom.’ I hated it. He’d be hurting me, and I would stare at it, praying for the time to pass, but it would seem as if it never moved.”

His arm tightened to the point where it almost hurt but he kept his silence and let her go on.

“I just can’t stand to think of anyone else being in that situation.”

“Marious said that he ordered everyone to leave.”

“But he stayed. Others may have as well. Or the Derians may have gone after the town.” Her voice was rising, and he lifted her onto his lap and pulled her close.

“Don’t do this to yourself. The worst doesn’t always happen.”

“Doesn’t it?” she asked bitterly.

“Deb, stop. You know it doesn’t. You’ve told me yourself that you have a great family, that you had a happy childhood.”

“But I was taken from them.”

“And you survived. We found each other. You’re going to have a child.” He caressed her stomach. “That’s a lot of good things right there.”

He didn’t say anything else, just held her against his chest, and she eventually let his words penetrate.

“You’re right,” she acknowledged finally. “I shouldn’t allow my time with him to affect me so much. You’ve already helped me replace a lot of bad memories with positive ones.” One memory in particular struck her and she shivered. It was the last barrier she hadn’t been able to move beyond and she suddenly wanted desperately to replace it as well.

“I want to try something,” she said and stood up. Rast let her go but watched her cautiously. When she started to unfasten her gown, he sighed.

“Sweetheart, are you sure this is what you want? Or are you just trying to avoid thinking about the situation?”

Unexpected tears filled her eyes. “Don’t you want me anymore?”

“Of course, I do. But I’m worried that you’re doing it for the wrong reasons.”

“Is there a wrong reason?” She let the gown fall to her feet, reassured when his eyes flared, and his cock sprang to life.

“Yes, there is—” He stopped mid-sentence when she grasped his horns, stroking them with the slow twisting motion he loved. She leaned closer, her breasts a few inches from his face.

“You’re not playing fair,” he said sternly, and put his hands on her hips. But he didn’t push her away and she let her nipples trail across his mouth. He groaned and caught one between his lips, sucking gently. Mm. Her body responded to his touch as it always did, her pussy turning slick and ready. Perfect.

“Rast.” She pulled back and he released her nipple with a reluctant pop. “Look at me.”

He did, studying her face intently. “What do you want, sweetheart?”

“I want you to take my ass.”

She saw his cock jerk at the idea, but he shook his head. “Deb, I really don’t think this is the right time—”

“It’s the perfect time,” she said firmly, suppressing her underlying trepidation. “I want those memories replaced with a good one, the way you’ve replaced all the others.”

“But you’ve only taken my fingers there.” He was right; they had tried twice before and each time she had panicked when she felt his cock.

“I know, but I really want to try again. It’s my way of fighting past the fear.”

He studied her face, then nodded. “If you’re sure. But if you can’t go through with it, promise me you won’t be upset or ashamed.”

“I’ll try.” Anxiety filled her, but she gave him the best smile she could.

He put his hands on her hips to pull her back against him and she jerked. He shook his head and started slowly stroking her sides.

“Sweetheart, this isn’t going to work unless you relax. Remember that it’s me and that I love you.”

She nodded and didn’t flinch this time when his hands dropped to her hips. He lifted her onto his lap and simply kissed her, stroking her body lightly as he sipped at her mouth, teasing her until she was panting and breathless.

“That’s much better,” he said when he finally raised his head. He moved her off his lap and onto the bed but stood up and walked to the closet. It wasn’t until he opened the door that she understood. There was a mirror on the back of the door, and he propped it open so that it faced the bed. Nervous excitement shivered up her spine. She had never watched herself make love before.

“Now you can always see that it’s me,” he said as he returned to the bed and arranged her to face the mirror. Once again, he surprised her by not playing with her ass right away. She could see his cock was swollen and ready, but he ignored it, simply kneeling behind her and stroking her back. As she relaxed again, he began curving his hand beneath her body to pluck at her nipples or slide between her legs with a delicate pass over her clit. Her body began to hum with excitement, and she didn’t flinch when he pressed his cock against her, sliding it up and down the deep valley between her bottom cheeks. It moved easily, and she realized he had applied lube to ease its way. The stimulation was exciting but not scary and she relaxed into it.

“Good girl,” he whispered. He shifted until his cock was sliding along her slit instead, rubbing against her clit with each pass while he used his hands first to spread her cheeks, then to stimulate her pucker. They had done this before and she relaxed into his touch, letting the building arousal wash over her. She didn’t flinch when he gently inserted a finger, the stretch only adding to her pleasure.

“Perfect. I love seeing my finger disappearing into your tight little ass—but I think two would be even better.” He added another finger as he spoke, the stretch a little more intense this time, but he rubbed his cock across her clit, those amazing spiral veins pulsing against it and distracting her. He spread his fingers gently and slid them in and out until she was shuddering, then added the third one. She cried out, but from pleasure not from pain. When she looked in the mirror, he was staring down at her ass, watching his hand, and she shuddered again, her hips jerking back against him. He looked up and met her eyes before giving her the demonic smile she loved.

“Are you ready, sweetheart?”

Her whole body was on fire, clit aching and ready to come.

“Yes.”

“Eyes on me,” he reminded her as he withdrew his fingers, leaving her feeling unexpectedly empty. Before she had a chance to tense, his cock was there, the pointed tip easing into her with the same pleasurable stretch as his fingers. But the stretch increased as he slid deeper, the slight burn frightening.

“Deb, look at me.” Rast’s voice interrupted the growing panic and she realized she had closed her eyes. She opened them, forcing herself to concentrate on the strong red figure behind her. She was with Rast and she was safe. As her body loosened, the burn eased.

“That’s a good girl. You’re doing so well, sweetheart.”

He stroked lightly over her clit with his other hand, never taking his eyes off of her, and her body surged back into full arousal. He stroked her again and again until her body tightened, and she clamped down on his cock, the sensation sending her flying as white light flashed across her vision, her body clenching repeatedly around the invader, each clasp adding to the pleasure until she was limp in his arms.

When her thoughts finally cleared, she was conscious of Rast’s rigid body. He seemed frozen behind her.

“Are you okay?”

“That was amazing, sweetheart. You’re so tight, so hot.” His voice was strained, and she realized that he hadn’t come with her. She gave an experimental wiggle and he groaned. “If you keep doing that, I’m going to fuck this tight little ass.”

“Yes, please.” She couldn’t keep the smile off her face. Her fear had disappeared.

His hips gave a reflexive jerk and he groaned again. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

He didn’t ask again but pushed slowly, steadily, deeper. The burn came back but now it only heightened her arousal. He still had his hand on her clit, and he stroked it gently until he had buried himself completely.

“You look so beautiful like this, your pretty little asshole stretched open around my cock.” He began to withdraw, and it was her turn to jerk at the dark pleasure. He paused with just the tip still inside her, then pushed forward again, faster this time. He set up a steadily increasing pace of fast plunges and slow withdrawals. Her clit throbbed, her breasts ached, her whole body focused on the sensation.

“Rast, please.”

He moved faster, seeming to swell inside her, and then his fingers clamped down on her clit, the shock sending her into a convulsion of pleasure as she heard him call out her name and felt him filling her dark channel with jets of hot seed. His body collapsed forward over hers and she pulled his arms around her, a satisfied smile on her face.

Chapter Twenty-Five

They landed just after dusk, Ultana gliding them in on an almost soundless engine. The delay had allowed the tide to cover more of the area and Rast clenched his fists as the ship skidded to a halt in a spray of water and vegetation. The landing field was in a sheltered bay with the back of the palace on one side, and a series of raised terraces which were used for food production on the other. As this side of the palace was mainly devoted to kitchens and work areas, he thought there was a good chance that their opponents would be unaware of the landing. However, there was another problem.

“I don’t see an entrance other than that gate,” he muttered to Athtar. They had jumped down into the thigh deep water to determine the best way to enter. Both men studied the coral bars filling the large archway. It looked fragile, but he knew from experience that it was surprisingly tough.

“We can cut through it, but it will either be slow—or noisy,” Athtar said grimly.

“There’s an exterior release catch—or at least there’s supposed to be,” Deb said from behind him.

“What are you doing out here?” The water reached her waist and she swayed as a wave washed past them. Fortunately, Grabon had an arm around her to support her, although he had to suppress the urge to demand that the other man release her immediately.

“I’m helping, remember?” She lifted her chin defiantly. “And it’s just as well since you don’t know how to get in.”

Rast opened his mouth but Athtar gave him a shove before he could speak. “Don’t listen to his ungrateful ass. How do we get in?”

“There’s a release there, at the corner.”

They all turned to look where she indicated. The corner of the palace extended out past the more sheltered area and caught the brunt of the waves. Even in the dim light, the turbulent water looked threatening.

“There?” Athtar said skeptically.

“It’s underneath the water, designed so that only a Sheraen can access it.”

“Then we’re screwed. I’m not that good a swimmer.”

“I am,” Rast admitted reluctantly. He had never discussed the physical differences resulting from his Sheraen heritage with Athtar or the rest of the crew, preferring to keep his abnormalities to himself.

“Are you fucking crazy? No one can swim that well. And who knows how deep it is beneath the water.”

Deb looked at him, her eyes concerned, but she gave him a nod and a small smile. The thought of disclosing his differences suddenly didn’t seem so intimidating.

“Don’t worry, Athtar. I can breathe underwater.”

“Well, I’ll be a son of a sea cook. Why the hell didn’t you say so before?” Athtar scowled at him. “I can think of a few jobs where that would have come in useful.”

Rast choked back a laugh, wondering why he had ever been concerned about his friend’s reaction.

“It should be marked by the Sheraen Crest,” Deb added. “Are you sure about this?”

He looked at the water and nodded. Despite the turbulence, the water held no terrors for him. He’d already discarded his boots before leaving the ship so all he had to do was remove his shirt before heading for the edge of the landing pad. The other three started to accompany him but within a few feet he could feel the current increasing.

“Go back to the ship,” he ordered, but paused long enough to give Deb a quick kiss, relishing her sweet taste and the firm warmth of her stomach against him. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. This is part of my heritage after all.”

The waves buffeted him until he slipped beneath the surface. He could still feel the current pulling at him, but the crashing of the waves was muted, and he moved swiftly through the water. His nictitating membranes allowed him to see easily, even in the dimness beneath the water. The walls of the place dropped seamlessly into the coral base, but their smooth sides were enough indication for him to follow. At the outermost corner, he found the Sheraen Crest, emblazoned over a small arch in the rock. He had to clear away several layers of seaweed and hack past some encroaching coral before he found the lever. At first it resisted his efforts, but eventually he managed to get it moving. It stuck again at the halfway point, but remembering the size of the gate, he hoped that would be sufficient.

When he rose to the surface to check, he was met with an unexpected downpour. The waves had picked up as well and he remembered the last storm that had hit the island. The noise and fury of the storm would give them cover but it could also make their passage more difficult. He fought his way back to the ship, swimming beneath the surface rather than trying to fight the waves and found all of his shipmates huddled at the top of the landing ramp.

“Rast! Oh, thank God. You were gone so long.” Deb flung herself at him, uncaring of his wet skin.

“Ssh, sweetheart. I don’t think anyone had used that in a long time, so it took me a few minutes to get it working. Why the hell is there a gate here anyway when the front of the palace is wide open?”

“The store rooms are on this side. I think your ancestors were more worried about theft than defense.”

Athtar ducked down to peer through the rain. “You could have made it a bit higher,” he grumbled. “We’re not all as puny as you are.”

“Duck your head,” he said. “Are we ready to go?”

A chorus of agreement met his question, including a definite yes from Deb.

“My Consort, I really think you should wait here.”

“No. I’d go crazy not knowing what was happening.”

“But you have to think of our son,” he said, knowing it was an unfair tactic.

“I am.” She raised her chin. “He needs to know he has a mother willing to fight for him.”

“He won’t know anything if you get hurt before he’s even born,” he roared, his concern overtaking him. Deb reared back, then glared at him, before finally sighing and reaching for his hands.

“My prince, I’m not stupid. I’ll be careful. I just can’t wait here.”

Rast sighed and exchanged a glance with Athtar. The big man shrugged. “At least we can keep an eye on her.” He nodded at Studoc. “Stay with her at all times, understand?”

“Yes, Captain.” Studoc grinned. “It will be a pleasure.”

Ignoring the other man’s grin, Rast nodded reluctantly. “Very well. Let’s go.” He gathered Deb against his side and scowled at Studoc. “I’ll help her to the palace.”

The small group set out across the landing field. The wind drove the rain into their faces and the waves moved with increasing force, even in the sheltered bay. Grabon, Birgraz, and Athtar, as the largest members of the party, moved to each side, sheltering the others between them. He kept his arm around Deb, moving slowly because of the slippery footing and the still rising water. He breathed a sigh of relief when they finally climbed the steps to the tunnel entrance and slipped under the partially raised gate. The wide passageway blocked the rain and some of the wind and they paused a moment to recover.

“You’re a sorry looking lot,” Athtar laughed as he surveyed the group. Like the others he was soaked to the skin, but he was grinning fiercely, enjoying the challenge provided by the elements. “Now what, Rast?”

“Now we find somewhere to dry off so that a three-year-old couldn’t follow our tracks.”

“We should come out near the laundry,” Deb said. “But there’s another gate ahead and I don’t know how it gets opened.”

“Something that my consort doesn’t know?” he teased. “All of the interior doors are coded to the royal family’s DNA, and even my less than pure blood qualifies.”

“It’s pure enough for me,” she whispered. Her wet clothes drooped around her enticing body and her wet hair streamed down her back, but she looked as beautiful as ever, and he couldn’t resist stopping long enough to pull her into his arms for a kiss. Only Athtar’s loud cough made his raise his head. “Later,” he promised as he let her go.

The rest of the party had already assembled by the second gate, except for Studoc. Apparently, he was taking his commitment seriously and he lingered at Deb’s elbow. Rast gave him a reluctant nod of approval. The latch for this gate was clearly visible on the wall, once again topped by the Sheraen Crest. He placed his hand on the panel and a long minute later, the gate rose silently into the ceiling. Beyond the gate was a set of massive wooden doors, with a smaller door inset into one of the larger ones.

Athtar moved to cover him as he pressed his finger to the lock of the smaller door, then slowly cracked it open. The corridor beyond was deserted although he could hear faint echo of laughter. When he signaled to the others that it was clear, Deb peeked past him and pointed to a door a few feet away. “That’s the laundry.”

With Athtar still keeping watch, they slipped down the hallway and into the laundry room. Kanithe, whose fine scales shed water rapidly, took a towel and used it to wipe up their footprints while everyone else dried off.

“Now what?” Deb asked.

“Now we reconnoiter.” Back on the ship they had determined the most likely places for guards to be stationed so he quickly assigned the others to investigate them.

“What about me?”

“You’re staying here.” She opened her mouth, but he placed a gentle finger across it. “Sweetheart, you’re close enough to know what’s happening. Please, please stay here so that I’m not distracted by worrying about you.”

She gave him a mutinous look, then sighed and moved his finger aside. “Okay, I’ll stay here. But please be careful. You don’t know what you’re up against.”

“Don’t worry, Rast. I’ll take care of her,” Studoc promised, not smiling for once. Rast nodded, accepting the vow as intended. Then Studoc grinned and added, “don’t hurry back. I’m sure the two of us can find something to do.”

Resisting the urge to slap the aggravating bastard, Rast gave Deb a quick hug and nodded to the others. “Let’s go.”

Rast and Athtar headed in the direction of the laughter they had heard earlier. A bar of light spilled into the hallway from the open doorway to the kitchens. With Athtar staying a few steps behind, Rast crept closer until he could see most of the room. Just as he did, a crash sounded.

“I’m tired of this Gods damned cold food.” A Derian threw a plate across the kitchen, narrowly missing Marious, who stood quietly against the wall. “Why can’t you find us a cook?”

“I’m sorry, sir. All of the palace workers fled at your approach.”

“Then take one from the town. And bring back a female or two while you’re at it.”

“Hrogdur, I already told you. We’re not touching the town. At least not yet.”

His blood chilled as he recognized the voice of Deb’s torturer.

“Why the hell not, Thrull? I haven’t had a decent fuck in weeks.”

“Because he’s a fucking Royal Prince, you idiot. He can bring the whole damn fleet down on us. I figure taking the palace will frighten him enough to give us the slut and my child. I doubt that spoiled little bastard really wants a fight, especially over one worthless female. But if we start damaging his people and the rest of his property, he’ll have to fight back, just to save face.”

Rast edged forward enough that he could see Thrull’s leering face as he rocked back in his chair and raised a tankard to his mouth. He drained it and set it down with a thump, then grinned again.

“Of course, if he decides he’s had enough of this planet afterwards…” He shrugged. “We’ll come back with more of our men and really enjoy ourselves.”

Fury rose so strongly in his veins that his vision went red. He would never allow these Derians, or anyone else, to victimize his people. Forcing himself to concentrate, he scanned the room. In addition to Thrull and Hrogdur, there were two more Derians in the room. One slumped over the table, apparently unconscious, and the second gazed moodily into the fire, tossing a knife from hand to hand.

Rast withdrew quietly, moving back to where Athtar waited. “Four,” he murmured softly.

“Then we just have to find the other six.”

“One shot through the doorway and that bastard would be dead.” Rast lingered, reluctant to abandon his prey.

“But that won’t get rid of the others. We agreed that we needed to remove them first.”

Every bone in his body urged him to just go ahead and kill the Derian but Athtar was right. They needed to eliminate the entire threat at once. He sighed and gave in. “Let’s go see if the others have returned.”

Chapter Twenty-Six

Deb paced back and forth in the steam room. The large pots weren’t boiling tonight but the room retained the smell of moisture and cleaning soap. Studoc had persuaded her to leave the main work area and move to this smaller one so they wouldn’t be immediately visible if someone entered. She had reluctantly agreed but she felt even more cut off tucked back here.

“Consort, please sit down,” Studoc urged. He was lounging on one of the work tables, but he kept one of his eyes on the door and one of his hands on his weapon at all times.

“I can’t.” The baby kicked and she rubbed her stomach, managing a rueful grin. “And he prefers me to keep moving as well.”

As she turned to start another circuit, she heard a noise from the outer room. Without thinking, she rushed to the door but Studoc jumped in front of her.

“Wait.”

He cracked the door open, then nodded. “It’s Birgraz.” He opened the door and gestured the big man to join them. Rast and Athtar returned next and Rast immediately gathered her into his arms. Even though she knew he had only been going to spy on the Derians, relief filled her that he was safe. She nestled against him and let his ocean scent soothe her while the rest of the crew filed in. Ultana was the last to return, and as soon as she entered, Athtar took command.

“Report,” he ordered.

“There was one in the tower,” Grabon said.

“Was? You weren’t supposed to kill anyone this time.”

Grabon shrugged, not looking particularly remorseful. “He saw me. I didn’t have a choice.”

“The two I found sleeping won’t be bothering us, either,” Kanithe said. She flexed her arms, emphasizing the sharp spikes jutting back from her elbows.

Athtar shook his head. “Not a damn one of you can follow orders. You’re all fucking insubordinate.” The pride in his voice contradicted the words. “That’s three down. We found four in the kitchen. What about the other three?”

“There are two watching the main entrance—one stationed at the doors to the palace, the other at the edge of the courtyard. If you could call it watching.” Birgraz shook his head, obviously disgusted. “One was playing dice with himself. The other was more interested in his bottle than the post.” His tail twitched, and he gave Grabon a reproachful look. “I could have taken them both out easily, but I did not.”

“I’m glad someone was listening,” Athtar said. “That’s nine. If Rast’s steward is right, that leaves at least one unaccounted for.”

“I didn’t find anyone in the admin offices, not even in the communications room,” Ultana said. “I double-checked every room on the way back as well. Sorry, Captain.”

“Not your fault. It’s a fucking palace. It was always a crapshoot that we’d be able to find everyone.” He looked at Rast. “We should move now. I’m not too worried about the sleepers but someone is either going to communicate with or replace the one in the tower.”

“I agree,” Rast said, his face grim. “Birgraz and Grabon can take out the two at the entry while you and I take care of the kitchen contingent. We can worry about the other one after that.”

“I’m coming, too,” Kanithe announced.

“Why don’t you stay here with us?” Studoc asked.

“Why? Because I’m female?”

Studoc held up all four hands. “Wait a minute. That’s not what I said.”

Deb listened to them argue, while an uneasy conviction swept over her.

“Where’s Thrull?” she interrupted.

Rast hesitated. “He’s in the kitchens, sweetheart. Why do you want to know?”

“I want to see him.” Want wasn’t exactly the right word, but it was something she needed to do.

“You will,” he promised, but she could hear the unspoken threat in his voice and knew he meant she would see his body.

“Before he dies, Rast.”

“I don’t understand.” He frowned down at her. “Why would you ever want to see him as anything other than a dead body?”

“I know why,” Athtar said, his eyes soft. “You want a chance to face him.”

“Yes.” Her fingers twisted together. “I know nothing I say will make a difference, but I want him to know I won. That he didn’t defeat me.”

“Are you sure?”

Not really. Her stomach twisted at the thought of confronting him again, but she nodded. “I need to do it.”

“Can I at least shoot him in the balls?” Rast muttered.

A slightly hysterical giggle escaped her lips. “I wouldn’t object. Just leave him conscious enough for me to talk to him.”

Before he could respond, a quiet scraping noise came from behind the largest tub. They all turned toward the sound, everyone except her with at least one weapon in their hand, as Rast and Studoc stepped in front of her.

A panel on the wall slid back and a small pink head peeked out, freezing at the sight of them.

“Don’t shoot, please.”

“Saleen? What are you doing here?” Recognizing one of the cook’s assistants, Deb tried to move past her guard but both men stayed in place.

“Mistress Debra?” Big brown eyes widened. “What are you doing here?”

“Getting rid of the intruders. Where did you come from?” She tried again to go to the girl but neither man moved. “Rast! This is Saleen. She works in the kitchen. Please let me talk to her.”

“Prince Rastrath?” The girl’s eyes widened even further, and she dropped to one knee. “I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you.”

“Is there anyone else in that tunnel?” Athtar demanded.

“No, j-just me,” she stuttered.

“Then get out of there and let me close this panel.” As she stood up and moved into the room, Athtar glared down the hidden passage before closing the door. “Where does this go?”

“To the cellars—the sub cellars. That’s where we were hiding.” Saleen shot a pleading glance at Deb. “I know we were ordered to leave but most of us slaves didn’t have anywhere to go. The Chief Steward showed us how to access the tunnels and told us to hide down there.”

“That’s fine,” she said soothingly. “We just wanted you out of danger.” Rast had finally allowed her to pass so she put her arm around the young girl. “But why did you leave?”

“We were afraid that they were going to find us.” Tears appeared in her eyes. “We heard them in the upper cellar moving barrels around and they were getting close to the trap door. T’lik…”

“T’lik? What did she do?”

“She used another one of the tunnels and entered the upper cellar from there. Then she hid where she knew they would find her. And they did! They did find her. I heard them laughing and saying all kinds of terrible things. I came up here to see if there was a way to help.”

Deb bit her lip, looking down at the tiny woman. How could she possibly have hoped to make any difference?

“You were very brave.” Birgraz stepped forward, his eyes glued to Saleen’s face. “But you must let us take care of it now.”

Saleen looked up, a long way up, to his face and blushed a darker pink. “Thank you, warrior.”

If Deb hadn’t been distracted by the thought of T’lik in danger, she would have been amused by the obvious attraction between two such different people, but she was too worried to do more than notice it. “What can we do?”

Athtar stepped closer and Saleen shrank back. A noise that sounded suspiciously like a growl came from Birgraz’s throat, but the captain ignored it.

“You said them? How many were there?”

“I’m not sure,” she said, looking flustered.

“Think, female,” Athtar roared.

Birgraz actually elbowed Athtar to one side and sank down on his knees before Saleen. He was still almost a head taller than her, but he gently took her hands in his. “Just take a deep breath and try to remember. You said you heard their voices. How many different voices did you hear?”

She closed her eyes. “I think there were two, no, three voices?” She opened her eyes and looked at Birgraz. “There could have been more, but those are the ones I remember.”

“Thank you, little one. That’s very helpful.”

“At least three more?” Athtar scowled. “The odds are no longer in our favor.”

“I could go back for some more people,” Saleen volunteered.

“Do any of them have any fight experience?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Then they’re better off where they are.”

Rast was about to add his own questions when voices sounded in the corridor. They all froze again. After a brief, silent debate with Athtar, he went to investigate. From his vantage point behind the slightly open door, he could see that Saleen had been right. Three Derians approached, two of them dragging T’lik between them, while the third followed. His heart sank when he realized that they were addressing a fourth man who had emerged from one of the storage rooms. He shuddered to realize how close he’d been the whole time.

“Hey, Norrix. Look what I found hiding in the cellars.”

“A Scraak? What the hell was it doing down there?”

“Not it, she. A female Scraak. And if she’s female, she can be fucked.”

“That didn’t seem to be a requirement on Nebulon Three,” his companion muttered.

The man’s face darkened. “Shut the fuck up. It was a long, cold assignment.”

“Well, I’m not putting my dick anywhere near some insect,” the fourth man said.

“Suit yourself. I’m tired of waiting for Thrull’s slave to show up. If she even does. I need something to keep me entertained.” He hauled T’lik up in front of him, thrusting his hips crudely against her. “This is your lucky day, girl. Three real men to show you what fucking is all about.”

T’lik’s mandibles fluttered anxiously but she held herself erect. “I do not see any real men,” she said coolly.

“Bitch.” He slapped her across the face, sending her to the floor, then shook his hand. “Fuck, I forgot how hard their fucking skin is.”

“And you want to fuck her, Crazzuk?”

“She ain’t hard on the inside.”

Rast clenched his fists, fighting the urge to intervene immediately. As he did, Thrull appeared in the doorway to the kitchens. “What the hell is going on out here?”

“Crazzuk found himself a female. Sort of.” Norrix laughed.

“Where did you find her?” Thrull demanded

“In the cellars. We were looking for more of that red liquor you liked.”

“She was by herself?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you sure?”

Crazzuk scowled. “Pretty sure. What difference does it make? No one on this fucking planet has the balls to fight back.”

“So far. Doesn’t mean it can’t happen. Better call the guards and put them on alert.”

Rast heard the brief conversations with the two entrance guards before Crazzuk scowled at his communicator. “I can’t raise Asema. But he was in the tower and the storm’s pretty bad. It may be interfering with his com.”

“Norrix, go check on him. We need to make sure.” Thrull leaned down and hauled T’lik up by one arm. “I’m going to find out what this one knows.”

Rast groaned silently. The situation was going from bad to worse. He faded back into the laundry.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Grim faces surrounded Rast as he reported his findings.

“There are four more of them and they have T’lik. They also know there’s no response from the tower and they sent someone to investigate, as well as calling the other guards to tell them to keep watch.”

“I can take care of the gate guards,” Kanithe said confidently.

“Let me take the one they’re sending to the tower,” Grabon said. “I can fly up and intercept him.”

“Are you sure? They said the storm’s getting worse.”

“They call this a storm? On Dhalgroll this would just be a gentle breeze.”

Rast and Athtar exchanged glances, then Athtar nodded. “Go, both of you. But be back as fast as you can.”

They both left at a run, using the kitchen courtyard to avoid the chance of running into the Derians.

“What about T’lik?” Deb asked anxiously. Even as she spoke, a low-pitched cry echoed through the hallway and they all flinched.

“We’re going after her now,” he promised. “If we wait, we’ll only give them time to find the other bodies.”

She looked at the four of them and bit her lip. “Take Studoc with you. That will help even out the numbers.”

“I’m not leaving you unprotected,” he growled.

“I’ll hide in the tunnel with Saleen. We’ll be fine.”

Every instinct protested, but she was right. It would help to have Studoc with them and she should be safe in the tunnels. He looked at Ultana, but she raised her eyebrows.

“Don’t even suggest it. I’m not great at close fighting but I’m a hell of a shot. I’m coming with you.”

He didn’t bother arguing and turned to the other two women. “Open the panel, Saleen. I want you in that tunnel before we leave, Deb. And stay there until I come for you.”

“I will,” she promised, already standing next to Saleen as the girl found the release. It took more willpower than he expected to watch her move into the darkness with only the young girl at her side. As the panel closed again, she called softly, “I love you, my prince.”

The door closed before he could reply. He fought down the lump in his throat and turned to the others. “Let’s go.”

They moved quickly and quietly down the corridor, and he prayed that they would have surprise on their side this time as well. As they approached the door, he crouched and moved ahead far enough to see the room. T’lik was bent over a table, one slender arm obviously broken. Crazzuk stood to one side, his pants unfastened, while Thrull leaned over her with his fist raised. Fury roared through him so quickly that he forgot his promise to Deb. He raised his blaster, determined to kill the Derian, but his prayers didn’t work. The man who’d been tossing the knife looked up and saw him. The knife flew from his fingers with lightning speed. Rast ducked and the knife missed but it threw off his shot and he hit Thrull’s leg instead of his heart. The room exploded into chaos.

Deb followed Saleen down the tunnel. A faint luminescence from the moss lining the walls provided enough light to see where they were going. The path wound steadily downward and she shivered as the air cooled, her damp gown adding to the chill. At last Saleen paused before a section of the wall and knocked three times. A single knock came from the other side and the girl sighed with relief as she opened the panel.

Inside was a large cavern with an arched ceiling but it was filled with a surprising number of people. She recognized most of them from her work with Marious. Sleeping pallets lined the walls but no one was sleeping. As soon as they saw her, they rushed over, filled with anxious questions.

“What’s happening?” Ha’rek, the chief laundress, thrust her way forward. She was a large woman with a tentacled lower body and an uncanny resemblance to the Sea Witch from the Little Mermaid. “Did the prince return with you?”

“Yes. He and the other members of the crew are trying to retake the palace now.”

“Crew? Did he bring the fleet with him?” Fastod asked eagerly. He was one of the few Sheraens present, but she wasn’t surprised that he was there. He was courting one of the junior chefs and wouldn’t have abandoned her.

“I’m afraid that wasn’t possible. But we came back as quickly as we could.”

“You mean the prince is up there with just that freighter crew?”

“Yes.” Despite her best efforts, her eyes filled with tears. “But they’re very brave. I’m sure everything will be fine.”

Ha’rek put an arm around her shoulders, then turned to face the others. “This isn’t right. Prince Rastrath is up there fighting for us while we cower here in the cellars. We should be helping him, not hiding.”

There were murmurs of agreement from the crowd. She couldn’t help being pleased that they wanted to help but none of them were warriors.

“You don’t know what the Derians are like,” she whispered to Ha’rek. “They’re not much more than brutal animals.”

“Bullies are always like that,” Ha’rek said softly, then turned to the crowd. “I’m willing to fight for Sherae. Is anyone going to join me?”

A roar of approval answered her words.

“You don’t have to,” Deb said quickly. “They’re trained fighters and I know you’re not. There’s no shame in staying here.”

A muttered discussion took place, but in the end, about a third of the group decided to accompany Ha’rek and Deb. To Deb’s dismay, Saleen was one of them.

“Why don’t you stay here?” she asked gently.

“T’lik is my friend. I want to help.” Her cheeks turned rosy. “And that nice warrior. He’s up there, too.”

Deb sighed but didn’t try to dissuade her again. Fully aware that she was breaking her promise to Rast, she and Saleen led the group back through the tunnels. Ha’rek used the time to suggest items from the laundry to be used as weapons. While Deb had no doubt that the woman was a formidable enemy with a wooden laundry paddle, she couldn’t help but doubt its effectiveness against a bullet.

As soon as they emerged into the steam room, they could hear the sounds of battle. Deb started to rush forward but Ha’rek grabbed her. “Stay here,” she ordered. “You can’t risk the life of your child as well as your own.”

A scream rang out and Deb flinched. “I’ll stay here, but please. Go help them.”

With a determined nod, Ha’rek grabbed her paddle and headed for the door. The others picked up various other implements and followed her, even Saleen. The noise increased immediately, startled yells mixing with blood-curdling cries from her band of slaves. Unable to help herself, she inched toward the door. The noise suddenly died down and her heart started to pound. Praying that the silence was a good thing, she crept out into the main laundry room and took a cautious glance into the hallway.

Rast was coming toward her. He had blood on his hands, but she didn’t see any other sign of damage. With a glad cry, she raced toward him. He met her halfway, picking her up in his arms and twirling her around. “It’s over. Everyone is safe.”

She barely had time for a relieved sigh before he covered her mouth with his, kissing her fiercely as she melted against him. The sound of cheering finally penetrated as he lifted his head. They were surrounded by the crew and the group from the cellar. She could see the signs of damage—Ultana was bleeding profusely from a head wound, one of Birgraz’s arms hung awkwardly but his other was firmly around Saleen, and there were various other wounds—but everyone was smiling.

“Your support troops won the day,” Rast said quietly. “It turned out that there was yet another Derian that we missed so we were under attack from both sides. This lady was gracious enough to take care of him for us.” He nodded at Ha’rek who swung her paddle proudly. Deb quickly diverted her eyes from the bloody mess covering the end of it.

The crowd’s jubilance died down suddenly, and Deb looked up to see Athtar carefully helping T’lik toward them. One of her arms was obviously broken and Deb rushed over to her.

“Oh, T’lik. I’m so sorry.”

“It was not your fault, mistress.” Her mandibles waved gently. “Thank you for returning for us.”

“But your poor arm…”

T’lik gave a little chittering laugh. “I heal quickly. And I do have three other arms. I will return to your service before the child is born.”

Deb leaned forward and hugged her as gently as possible. After a surprised moment, three arms returned the hug.

“Where’s the doctor?” Rast demanded.

“I have sent for him, Your Highness.”

Deb recognized the quiet voice and turned to find Marious standing beside them. Up close, he looked even worse than he had on the view screen in the ship, but he stood proudly. More tears filled her eyes and she couldn’t speak. Rast spoke up instead.

“Thank you, Marious. I don’t know what would have happened without your cool head and fast thinking. No Royal House has ever had a worthier steward.”

Marious’s fins flared and he bowed deeply.

“Thank you, Your Highness. I could not ask for a better Sheraen to serve.”

The tears were coming non-stop now and Rast picked her and cradled her against his chest just as the doctor appeared.

“Dr. Mako, I know you will take care of everyone here,” Rast said. “But if you will excuse me, I’m going to take my consort to bed.”

“Where you will let her sleep,” the doctor said firmly.

Everyone laughed and she could feel her cheeks heating, but she tucked her head against Rast’s neck as he walked away. The tension of the past week had lifted, and she was suddenly exhausted. She yawned and Rast laughed, sounding as carefree as she felt.

“I suspect I won’t have any choice but to follow the doctor’s orders.”

“Mm. If you insist.” She yawned again and snuggled closer.

“Go to sleep, my love. All is well.” His words floated over her and she smiled as she drifted off to sleep.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

The morning after the battle dawned bright and clear. The storm had blown itself out, although the palace had suffered some minor damage with no one available to prepare for the weather. It was a fitting metaphor for the intrusion of the Derians into their lives, Deb thought as she accompanied Athtar to the throne room. They had suffered some damage, with T’lik having the worst injuries, but they had made it through. Rast was down in the infirmary now, checking on everyone, and she had taken advantage of the opportunity to find Athtar and tell him what she intended.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked again.

“Yes.” Her voice trembled so she firmed it and repeated. “Yes.”

He shook his head. “Rast is going to have my fucking balls.”

“I’m sure you’re shaking in your boots.”

Athtar grinned, then pushed open the door to the throne room.

Thrull was on his knees, his hands manacled behind him and chained to his ankle restraints. Grabon stood at his back, some type of gun pointed at Master—at Thrull’s neck. Blood pooled under one of Thrull’s legs, but he still sneered when he saw her.

“Did you miss me, you little whore?”

An unexpected sense of calm came over her. “You know, I thought I’d like seeing you on your knees,” she said thoughtfully.

“You’re remembering all the time I had you on yours…”

She ignored him and kept talking. “But it doesn’t mean anything to me because you don’t mean anything to me. And soon, you won’t mean anything to anyone.”

The knife in her hand gleamed as she stepped closer. He snarled and fought his bonds until Grabon slammed his weapon against his head and he subsided, still panting.

“You don’t have the courage.”

She kept walking towards him. For the first time, a hint of something that might have been fear crossed his face.

“Are you going to tell my child that you murdered his father?”

“You’re not his father. You’re nothing. And he’s never even going to know you existed.”

Without a second thought, she plunged the knife into his throat. A spray of hot, blue blood erupted, covering her hands, and splattering her face. For the first time, her calm shattered. As she looked down at her blood covered hands, her vision started to dim. She just had time to hear Rast’s angry voice before she slipped into unconsciousness.

The next thing she heard was Rast’s voice berating Athtar as he washed her hands. She could feel a padded surface beneath her.

“What the fuck were you thinking? She didn’t need to do that. I was going to take care of him for her.”

“It was her right.”

“But she’s so fragile.”

“She was strong enough to survive him the first time. She’s fucking strong enough to end it.”

“I needed to do it,” she whispered, and forced her eyes open. Rast was leaning over her, his eyes angry and worried. “I’m sorry I fainted.”

“Don’t be sorry, sweetheart. Athtar should never have let you near him.”

“No, he was right. Now I know he’s really dead.” She looked down at her hands, still marked with his blood, and shuddered, before looking back at Rast. “When I have a nightmare, I can remember this moment and feel safe again.”

“I’m supposed to make you feel safe,” he muttered.

“And you do, Rast. You make me feel safe and loved and so very happy. But I need to be able to fight things on my own as well.”

He sighed and opened his mouth just as a sharp cramp hit her stomach and she flinched.

“What’s the matter?” he demanded immediately.

“I’m not sure. I—” All of a sudden she realized that her pants were wet. “I think my water broke.”

“What does that mean? Are you hurt?”

Another cramp seized her, and she had to stop and breathe through it before she could answer him. “I think I’m going into labor.”

“Fuck!” Rast jumped to his feet, then immediately picked her up. “Athtar, get Marious. Tell him to find that damn doctor.” He headed for the door, then turned around and headed back. “Where should I take her?”

“My mother had each of us in her own bed. Take her to your rooms,” Athtar said calmly.

“Yes, of course.” Rast looked around wildly and she would have laughed if another wave of pain hadn’t overtaken her.

“That way, my friend,” Athtar said, and turned Rast so he was facing in the right direction. “I’ll get Marious and the doctor.”

“And T’lik,” she added as the contraction ended. “If she’s up to it, I would like her there.”

She could only hope that he heard since Rast was already running. “Rast, slow down, please. You’re bouncing me all over the place. Do you want to jiggle the baby out of me?”

He stopped and gave her a horrified look before moving again, so cautiously that it would take them a week to reach their rooms. She sighed. “A little faster is okay.”

His pace immediately increased to an almost run, but this time she just held on and kept her mouth shut.

“This room is too full of people,” Rast muttered a short time later. Deb was enthroned on the bed, T’lik with a bandaged arm on one side, Marious on the other, while the doctor arranged his instruments at the foot of the bed. Athtar was still present, along with the rest of the crew, Birgraz with his arm in a sling, and Ultana with an enormous bandage wrapped around her head. There were several members of the household as well, all of them stopping by to check on the Mistress. He was touched by their support and their obvious affection for Deb but right now, he just wished they would all disappear.

“Rast,” Deb cried, and he had to push past three people before he could reach her side. That did it.

“Everyone out,” he roared. “Except the doctor.”

“And T’lik,” Deb said pleadingly. Since she wanted her there and since the Scraak female was standing out of his way on the other side of the bed, holding Deb’s hand and clicking softly, he agreed.

“Fine. Everyone else out.”

Most of them had fled with his first roar. Marious moved away slowly, giving Deb an anxious look.

“Don’t worry,” he said softly to the steward. “She’ll be fine. I’ll send word as soon as the baby is born.”

“Thank you, Your Highness.”

Athtar also lingered until he glared at him.

“I’m only going as far as the lounge.” Athtar scowled. “He’s our baby, too.”

“As long as you’re not in this room, I don’t care.” He immediately regretted his hasty words. “That’s not true, my friend. I’m glad you’ll be close by.”

Athtar nodded and left, just as Deb gave another cry.

The next few hours passed in a blur. Every time Deb cried out, he wanted to strangle the doctor.

“Help her,” he demanded again. “Can’t you give her something for the pain?”

“Prince Rastrath,” Doctor Mako sighed. “Childbirth is a natural process. Drugs interfere with that process. Especially given the unusual circumstances, I do not want to add any possible complications.” He held up his hand when Rast open his mouth. “I discussed this with Mistress Debra in advance. She agreed.”

“He’s right, I’m fine,” Deb whispered. Her voice was a mere thread and her face pale with exhaustion.

“You’re not fine, sweetheart.”

Another contraction gripped her, and she squeezed his hand hard enough to break bones as she panted through it. T’lik clicked her mandibles in rhythm with Deb’s pants until the wave passed.

“Deb, please. Tell me what I can do to help.”

“Just stay with me. And stop worrying.”

“Impossible,” he muttered, and she gave a weak laugh before she returned to her panting.

Fortunately for his own nerves, their son was born a short time later.

“He’s beautiful,” Deb whispered as Dr. Mako placed the small bundle in her arms. Her eyes filled with tears as she studied her baby. His skin was a delicate pale blue and he had the most adorable tuft of reddish hair on the top of his head. “I was worried I wouldn’t think so, but he is.”

At the sound of her voice, he opened his eyes —his big, dark eyes—and her heart flipped. Rast was sitting next to her with his arm around her and he leaned over, his eyes soft.

“Very beautiful. He looks like his mother.”

Their son screwed up his face then started rooting against her breast.

“I think he came out hungry.” She laughed and opened her robe. With a little help, he found her nipple and clamped down on it with surprising strength. Exhausted but satisfied, she leaned back against Rast. “We never came up with a name for him.”

“We’ve been a little busy,” he said, not taking his eyes off the baby. “Did you have any ideas?”

“What about Athtren, in honor of Athtar?”

His eyes jumped to her face. “Is that what you want?”

“Yes. He’s your oldest friend. And the first person to see the real you. Not to mention that none of this would have been possible without his help. Do you think he’d mind?”

“Mind? He’ll be so proud, I’ll never hear the end of it. Thank you, sweetheart.”

The next week passed in a dazed, happy blur. Athtren was not fond of sleeping for any length of time which meant that neither she nor Rast were getting much sleep, either. Rast was with her every minute, jumping up to change Athtren’s diaper and bring him to her when he cried, walking the floor with him on the nights when he wouldn’t sleep.

Marious and T’lik took care of everything else. They delivered food and handled the surprising amount of laundry generated by a newborn. Even more importantly, they managed the flow of well-wishers and made sure they weren’t overwhelmed by visitors. Athtar and his crew were still in residence, but despite Athtar’s delight in his namesake, Deb suspected that they were getting restless. She also suspected that when they left, they would be short one crew member. Birgraz had already tentatively approached Rast about a position in the new Guard he was forming.

On the seventh night, she was lying in their bed, watching sleepily as Rast finally succeeded in getting Athtren to sleep. He placed him gently in his cradle and came to sit next to her. His face was strangely serious, and her heart skipped a beat.

“Is something wrong?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

“You don’t think so?” Fully awake now, she sat up to study his face.

“Sorry, sweetheart. That didn’t come out the way I meant it. There’s nothing wrong. I think—I hope—that you’ll be happy.”

She grabbed his hand. “Happy about what?”

“I’m going to take the throne,” he said slowly, blue eyes focused intently on her face.

Relief filled her, and she laughed. “Of course, you are.”

“You don’t sound surprised.”

“I’m not. Even when you were fighting it, it was obvious that you belonged here. This is your legacy, much more so than that horrible black palace on Kaisar. I suspect even your grandfather would have approved.”

He looked startled, then laughed. “Perhaps you’re right. I have abandoned one type of duty and accepted another. But I’m not doing it for myself. I’m doing it for our son. One day this will be his kingdom and I want everyone here to understand that from the start. I want him to be accepted.”

As he never was. She could almost hear the unspoken thought and her eyes filled with tears. “Rast, I don’t care if he’s a king or a fisherman as long as he’s happy, but I love that you care.”

He leaned over and kissed her, gently but with enough intensity that, for the first time since she’d given birth, she thought about making love to him. She knew her body wasn’t ready yet, but she was suddenly eager for the time to pass. The kiss intensified and by the time he lifted his head, she was breathless and more than a little aroused. He smiled down at her flushed cheeks before his face turned serious again.

“You know that we might not be able to have other children. It really isn’t common for two different species to be able to breed.”

“What if we can? Will that change how you feel about Athtren?” He was a wonderful father, but she couldn’t help feeling a little concerned.

“Of course not,” he said indignantly. “He’s my oldest son. He will be my heir, no matter how many children I have. But he has made me so happy—you have made me so happy—I wish we could share it with a larger family.”

Her eyes filled with tears. “Oh, Rast. I love you so much. I don’t care if it’s just the three of us or if we have a whole palace full of children. Thank you for buying me.”

“Thank you for loving me anyway.”

Epilogue

Four years later

“Catch me, Papa.” Athtren threw himself into the pool without the slightest doubt that Rast would catch him. Deb laughed as she watched her husband surge up out of the water and catch the boy, then take him squealing happily under the water for a quick dive. Rast was always mindful of Athtren’s limits but considering that their boy didn’t have a drop of Sheraen blood, he already swam like a fish and could stay underwater for a frighteningly long period of time. The pair surfaced, Athtren giggling, his little tuft of chestnut hair sticking straight up. He hadn’t changed much since he was born, his skin still pale blue, his eyes as dark as her own. He had developed rather sharp little white teeth and claws, but she privately thought they were absolutely adorable.

“Water, mama,” Nayani demanded, and Deb turned to smile down at her daughter. Despite Rast’s concerns about whether or not humans and Kaisarians could interbreed, she had been pregnant within a few months after she stopped nursing Athtren.

“Not today, munchkin.”

Nayani’s face crumpled and she let out a heartbreaking sob. At least, it would have been heartbreaking if Deb believed for one minute that it was genuine. Unfortunately, both Rast and Athtren were considerably more gullible and they appeared at her side immediately.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” Rast crooned, as he dropped down on the blanket. Athtren inserted himself in between them and gave her a clumsy hug.

“Water, papa,” Nayani pleaded, big blue eyes wide. Other than the warm gold of her skin, she was the spitting image of her father.

“Well, maybe just—”

“No,” Deb said firmly. “We have the Guild Masters Banquet tonight and I want to spend some time alone with you first. We need to talk.”

Rast gave her a smouldering look which had her nipples tightening beneath her loose robe. She’d never quite lost the last bit of pregnancy weight, but the additional curves didn’t seem to bother him at all. He made sure she knew just how much he wanted her.

Nayani’s lower lip trembled, but Deb laughed and shook her head. “You know that doesn’t work on me, munchkin.” Her daughter looked at her consideringly but before she could decide if she wanted to pursue her outrage, Deb spied a figure coming down the steps and gave a sigh of relief. “And here’s T’lik. She’s going to give you two your bath and, if you’re good, you can watch the new vids Uncle Athtar sent of Precious.”

“Yay!” Athtren jumped up and helped Nayani to her still rather uncertain feet so she could toddle off with him to meet T’lik.

“I’m so glad T’lik agreed to stay and work for us once you freed her,” she said, watching the children greet their nurse enthusiastically. All of the slaves that had been present when the Derians came had been freed. She had urged Rast to banish slavery all together, but after extensive discussion and some unsuccessful experiments, he had taken a different approach. The Sheraens continued to purchase slaves and offer them a chance to work off their debt, although the period had been standardized to one year. The transition period helped the slaves transition to a new life as free individuals.

“Yes, your assimilation strategy is working out very well,” Rast teased, interrupting her thoughts.

“Don’t call it that.”

Rast laughed and she pushed his shoulder in mock annoyance. Concerned that Athtren would feel uncomfortable about the fact that he wasn’t Sheraen, she had made sure that he, and later, Nayani, were around a variety of different species. Rast already took their son with him as he went about his duties, making sure that their people would be familiar with their future king from a very young age. So far, it seemed to be working. Athtren had never even questioned why he didn’t look like his father, although she was sure it would come up in the future.

“You wanted to talk to me, sweetheart?” But then he kissed her, and her thoughts scattered. As always, he tasted amazing and she gave in to the pleasure of his mouth on hers. He pulled her into his lap, and she could feel the hard ridge of his cock beneath her hip. Her pussy ached, and she knew she was getting wet, but she forced herself to concentrate and broke the kiss.

“Talk, remember?”

“Mm.” He lowered his head to nibble on the spot on her neck that always made her toes curl and her thoughts started to scatter again. But then he slipped his hand into her loose top and cupped her breast, squeezing lightly. She winced, and he stopped immediately. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

“Not wrong, but…”

“But what? You’re not injured, are you? Should I call Dr. Mako?”

“No, I’m fine. Now stop panicking.” She took a deep breath. “Remember how you were worried that we wouldn’t be able to have any more children?”

“Yes.” Now that he knew she was okay, he relaxed and gave her that devilish smile that still made her heart skip a beat. “But then you gave me my beautiful little Nayani. You’ve made me happier than I thought possible.”

“You once said that you’d like to have a big family.” God, why was this so hard to get out?

“I would have liked that, yes. But we already have a perfect family.”

“It’s about to get a little more perfect.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m pregnant again.”

For a second, he looked shocked, then a broad smile spread over his face. “Really?”

“Dr. Mako confirmed it this morning. It seems that humans and Kaisarians breed a little too well.”

“Too well? Aren’t you happy?”

“Of course, I am,” she sniffed, the pregnancy hormones already kicking in. “It’s just that I’m going to get all big again and I’m afraid you won’t want me anymore.”

“Sweetheart, if you remember, you were pregnant when I met you. When I fell in love with you. Your body is always sexy, but never more so than when you’re ripe with child. When these luscious breasts get all swollen with milk.” He caressed her breast very, very gently, rubbing just the edge of his thumb across her nipple, the exquisite sensation causing her to arch into his hand.

He untied her robe, then kissed his way down her stomach, leaving a trail of awakened nerves. By the time he reached her mound she was already reaching for his horns, but he paused and looked up at her.

“Did you know that your sweet little cunt is even sweeter when you’re pregnant?” He spread her legs and slipped his tongue between her folds, lapping delicately the way he knew she loved. After four years he knew every spot on her body which turned her on.

“Mm. Rast,” she protested weakly, even as she arched against his mouth. “The Banquet…”

“So, we’ll be late. Do you think anyone is going to complain?”

“But it’s so rude—Oh, God, right there.” All thoughts of the Banquet disappeared as she reached for his horns, feeling his pleasured groan vibrate against her clit. He slid one finger, then two inside her, setting up a demanding rhythm in contrast to the delicate lashes of his tongue on her swollen nub. She cupped her own breasts, her nipples tight and aching. She pinched lightly, the slight hint of pain arousing rather than frightening, increasing the pressure as her body started to tense in anticipation. Rast read the signs with his usual expertise, scissoring his fingers and sucking gently on her clit as she clamped down on her nipples and let the sensation push her over, her body convulsing against him and she cried out his name.

Rast looked down at the woman trembling in his arms, overwhelmed with love and gratitude.

“Thank you, Deb.”

“I think I’m the one who should be saying that,” she laughed, then grew serious when she saw his face. She put a gentle hand on his cheek. “Why are you thanking me?”

“Because you have given me the one thing I always wanted. The one thing I never had—a family.”

Her eyes filled with tears, but she smiled at him. “And you gave me a new one. I love you, my king.”

“I love you, my queen.” He lowered his head to kiss her, the waves lapping against the rocks, the sun shining down on them, and let joy sweep him away.

Author’s Note

Thank you for reading Deb and the Demon! I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Whether you loved the book or not, it would mean the world to me if you left an honest review on Amazon. Word of mouth is incredibly helpful for authors and I’d love to know your thoughts!

The science fiction romance community is amazing! I’m truly grateful for the love and support I have received both from readers and my fellow authors. I’m especially thankful for Bex McLynn and Tiffany Roberts – and if you haven’t already read their books, I highly recommend them! Plus, a special shout out to Janet S. and Kate B. for their unending support - and for always making me smile!

Coming up next – Ella and the Emperor

An alien emperor. A silent young woman.

Can an emperor lose his heart to a human slave?

And in case you missed them, the previous books in the Alien Abduction series are:

Anna and the Alien

Beth and the Barbarian

Cam and the Conqueror

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Table of Contents

Table of Contents

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Epilogue

Author’s Note