The Commander's Slave Page 9

  But Tangus had thought long and hard over exactly why it couldn’t be him.

  “Because of who I am, Daurent. How would it look to the other men if I suddenly took a mate while they remained single? They would damn me for an egotistical tyrant. And they’d be right. Whereas you ....”

  “Commander, there are a number of flaws in your reasoning. For one, while I like Asha, I don’t like her in that way. She’s a bit too … robust for my liking.” He flushed with embarrassment at being forced to describe his taste in females with his superior. “Plus I don’t love her. You may find this hard to believe, but I still harbor fantasies of finding a woman and settling down, and I’m not really the polygamous type. Plus--oh I don’t know, it’s obvious how you feel about her. I don’t relish the part of playing either the cuckold or the wedge.”

  How could Tangus tell his friend of the hours he had spent furiously thinking while Asha lay asleep in the crook of his arm? Because he did feel the responsibilities of his position heavily and that meant he could not give in to his dream--yes, he could admit it now in the dark secret corners of his mind--of making Asha his wife, compatibility be damned. Already he knew that there was talk about the commander’s woman, and he didn’t want it to go any further than that. To have a woman satisfy his sexual desires--his men could understand that as one of the perks of the job. But a wife was another matter altogether.

  But if he couldn’t claim Asha as his own, then what could he do? The idea of having her bear children other than his was like poison in his blood, as was even the idea of letting her out of his sight. And even if she couldn’t bear Seti children, offhand he couldn’t think of any of his men who wouldn’t appreciate her warming their bed. But how would they treat her? Would they appreciate her quick intelligence or see it as a challenge to be overcome?

  By the Creator, who could he trust her with? And, time after time, he kept coming back to Daurent. Except his faithful adjutant wasn’t being as cooperative as he had expected, and to be honest, Tangus was feeling equal parts irritation and relief from his subordinate’s response.

  “Daurent ….”

  “Commander, you have to tell her how you feel about her.”

  Did he? Not only step down from the pedestal his men kept him on, the pedestal that was necessary to their future survival, but bare his soul to another being?

  “I’ll take it under advisement.”

  * * * *

  Her nipples rubbed against the rough cloth of the blanket, the friction driving her into a frenzy.

  Tangus was behind her, thrusting into her as she knelt against the side of his bed, her knees and her body open wide to his ravaging.

  He reached around her to rub a nipple between thumb and forefinger while his other hand slid down to her wet labia, flicking mercilessly against her clitoris.

  Asha threw her head back and moaned, felt his mouth at her neck, teeth nipping against her nape’s tender flesh.

  “What do you want?” he rasped.

  “I ... want ... you,” she panted, in between thrusts. By the gods, just the thought of him inside her was enough to make her more slippery, more fragrant, more mindless.

  His fingers plundered her, their calluses catching against her tender nub. She clenched against him and was seconds away from orgasm when he stopped.

  No, he couldn’t do this! Frantically, she pushed herself against him, but he remained immovable, unresponsive. Then, with a jerk, he began the primal rhythm again, once more taking her to the brink before halting again.

  Asha screamed her frustration.

  “No, Tangus!”

  “Not Tangus,” he corrected her.

  She shook her head. “No, not Tangus. Master. Please, master.”

  “Do you want to please me?”

  “Yes, master.” Her entire body was throbbing, every sensation feeding into her hypersensitive clitoris and the cock that was buried to its hilt inside her.

  “Touch yourself,” he ordered. “Pleasure yourself.”

  She moved her heavy hands, one to her breasts and the other to her groin, to the welcoming moisture and pulsing need. Slowly, she touched herself, pinching a nipple between her fingers and exploring her sex with her other hand. Roaming down her cleft, over his flesh and cupping his balls before retreating to her sex, flicking against it with practiced fingers while she jerked against him.

  Tangus sat back, levering her back against him while she played with herself, splaying his fingers across her ribs so he could feel every breath, every shudder as it rocked her body, content to let her pleasure drive his need.

  But when she began to climax, he took over, moving her fingers out of the way so he could take control. Left to her own devices, she would stop at the first orgasm, but he wanted more, so he relentlessly continued the onslaught on her sex, touching, teasing, while she convulsed through two, three, four orgasms, until it was too much even for him and he emptied himself into her.

  They collapsed on the floor, the coolness calming their heated skin, but still he held himself inside her, reluctant to release her.

  “We should get to bed,” he said.

  “Hmmmmm.” She nestled her back closer against his body.

  With a smile, he reached for the blanket and dragged it to the floor, covering both of them, and they fell asleep, but when Asha woke the next morning--although it was still dark outside--she found herself in his bed.

  Her sleepy half-open eyes registered Tangus bustling around his quarters, tidying his various possessions.

  “Why don’t you come back here?” she asked drowsily, a seductive smile on her lips.

  Tangus didn’t meet her eyes, and that sobered her instantly. “What’s the matter?” she asked.

  He should have known better. Didn’t he think she knew him well enough by now to gauge his moods? He was nervous and unhappy, so unlike the Tangus she had fallen in love with, the Tangus who had made love to her last night.

  “Doctor Zehnda called. He completed analysis of his xenotyping.” Tangus indicated a pad on his bench.

  Her skin chilled. “And?”

  “You’re compatible with the Seti, although it will take external fertilization to complete conception.”

  Each word was a heavy stone dropped into the well of her spirit.

  “What will you do?” she asked through bloodless lips.

  He looked away. “We can begin egg harvesting tomorrow.”

  So, even after everything, he was still going to sacrifice her to his grand Seti strategy? Asha tried to capture his eyes, to imprint on him her horror at what was to come, but he sidestepped the intimacy. If it required medical manipulation for them to create a child, then it was certain that she was not currently pregnant with Tangus’ child. She shivered, wondering who he had in mind as the father of the first hybrid baby. As an example to the rest of his men, she was almost positive it wouldn’t be him.

  “I think you should rest,” he said. “I’ve told the Doctor not to expect you today.”

  Even after he had gone, she remained seated in bed, cold and numb. She had failed. She had gambled on a greater degree of compatibility, and she had failed.

  She didn’t know how long she sat there before a sound impinged on her consciousness. It was a methodical scratching on the shutter of the window. Curious, she got to her feet, wrapping the blanket around her.

  With some effort, she slid the clear-panel aside and pushed a shutter open. She gasped.

  In front of her were crouched three people--two women and one man. But the strange thing was that they had the same golden skin as she had. One of the women, her dark hair tied back severely into a functional bun, lifted her head, taking a cautious look into the room.

  “My Lady, we’ve come to rescue you.”

  My Lady? Were they talking to her?

  “I … don’t ….”

  “We have to hurry, my lady. There’s not much time.”

  “Do you know who I am?” Asha asked in a hesitant voice. It caused t
hem to look at each other worriedly.

  “We were sent by the Dowager Eminence the moment we heard of your disappearance,” the other female answered quickly, “and have been tracking you for a long time. Please, my lady, we have to go now.”

  “Go where?” Asha asked.

  “Home, my lady.”

  Home. Until an hour ago, she had thought home was wherever Tangus was, but she could see now that such hopes were futile. Should she stay? And do what? Beg him to keep her? Throw herself on his mercy? Ask that his be the first child she bore? And even if he agreed, what about after that? Tangus’ sense of honor would not allow him to monopolize her while he couldn’t offer his men equivalent release.

  But she had only known Tangus. Her entire remembered life revolved around him. He was as precious to her as the air she breathed.

  She looked at the three golden and expectant faces, hoping desperately for enlightenment.

  Chapter Eight

  One month later:

  Asha let the edge of the soft, sheer curtain slip through her fingers as she gazed out the window of her bedroom. Below her, in the middle distance, the water of Martiss Lake glistened like gems in the morning sun. Beyond the lake, tall stately trees stood sentinel in the Northern Forest Expanse. She breathed in the air, letting it fill her lungs with its sweetness. Above her, the slanting sun textured the intricate arabesques of the ivory ceiling.

  The door to her chamber chimed, a low melodious sound, and Imgran, the Senior Steward, entered.

  “My lady, the Dowager Eminence would like to see you.”

  “Of course. Tell her I’ll be right down, Imgran.”

  “Very good, my lady.”

  With a sigh, Asha turned from the window and regarded her reflection briefly in the mirror, adjusting the neckline of her morning jacket before exiting the room.

  Her slippered feet slapped quietly on the polished stone floor outside her room as she followed the corridor to a wide flight of stairs and descended.

  It was still early, with hours to go before the morning petitions, so Asha headed for the Residence’s more informal breakfast room.

  A guard--one of so few remaining--opened the door for her. Soon there would not be enough, and they would have to forgo the ages-old rituals of Abrengo royalty and automate most of the Residence’s functions. But for now, she smiled her acknowledgement to the ceremonial guard and entered.

  Her aunt, the Dowager Eminence, ruler of Fa Drunn III, watched with keen eyes as she approached.

  Asha dropped a graceful curtsey. “Your Eminence.”

  The striking older woman was seated at the head of a long table. Flanking her on one side was Onduin, her eldest daughter and heir, on the other, her second daughter, Erinan. They were still eating.

  “Won’t you join us, Arais?”

  Arais. That was her name. Arais sun-Abrengo, blood kin to royalty and niece of the Dowager Eminence. The weight of her connection, only recently recovered, still settled heavily on her.

  “I’m sorry, your Eminence, but I’m not hungry.”

  “Whatever did they do to you, Ari?” Onduin asked, shaking her head. Her golden hair, intricately styled, bobbed in time to her words. “You haven’t been yourself since we rescued you.”

  “Indeed,” the dowager agreed. She indicated a chair. “Please, Arais, if you will not eat with us, at least sit and keep us company.”

  “We made Mama order you down,” Erinan the teenager told her with a cheeky grin. “Ever since the treatments finished, you’ve been moping about refusing to eat. Imgran has been filling us in.”

  “It occurs to me that we were too precipitate in ordering you on your mission, Arais,” the dowager cut in, ignoring her mischievous offspring. “I feel we should have consulted more widely, and for a longer period of time.”

  “Oh no, Aunt Inna, you couldn’t have done that.” Ari was still unsure of much of her recovered life, but she was adamant on this point. “Who else could you have sent on a diplomatic mission to the Krat system?”

  “Mama could have sent me,” Onduin suggested, biting into a piece of toasted bread.

  Ari looked at her sharply. “Don’t be ridiculous, Dew, you’re the heir to the throne.”

  “Or me,” Erinan interjected.

  “We wanted them to take us seriously, Erin, not play simulations with us.” Ari looked at her aunt. “You had to send me. There was no other choice.”

  “And yet look at what happened,” the dowager said. “We lost you, our most beloved niece, and despaired of finding you again. And when we did finally recover you ....”

  All at the table were silent for a moment.

  It was true. After the shock of discovering that the third successor to the Abrengo throne had completely lost her memory, the Fa Drunn retrieval team took her straight to the Alpine Monks’ Retreat in the northwest corner of the great northern continent. There she was sequestered for three weeks, although she wasn’t under any doubt that, despite her isolation, regular and disturbing reports were being relayed back to the royal house.

  She had not behaved well. She had ranted and raved. Thrown objects around and destroyed furniture. Sobbed for days on end. The legendary calmness of the monks made it even worse, angering her to such an extent that she went on longer and more destructive rampages until, eventually, there was no more fine porcelain to break, no more chairs to hurl at walls, and for the moment at least, no more tears left inside her.

  And only at that point did the monks begin talking to her.

  She might have returned to the Royal Residence a week ago with her memory back, the dowager thought, but she had truly lost her innocence. Where once she saw an impulsive young woman, not uncaring but perhaps a little careless of those around her, now she saw someone more sober, more reflective. On balance, it looked to be a useful improvement, but the dowager wondered how much such newly-acquired self-discipline had cost her niece.

  “Before we begin the morning petitions, I will be asked again about the results of your mission, Arais. I have been telling the Council of your, indisposition, but they know that you’ve been back at the Residence for a week now, and I doubt my ability to distract them any longer.”

  Ari knew that, up to that point, her aunt had protected her well beyond what was required. The entire Residence staff had left her alone to walk the corridors and gardens, always discreetly present but never imposing. They had given her as much time as they could for her to recover from her ordeal, but now it was time for her to face her responsibilities again.

  “I know, Aunt Inna. After all, the future of our planet is at stake.” She hesitated. “They said no.”

  Erinan sucked in her breath. “Then we’re doomed.”

  “They didn’t find any part of our proposal attractive?” the dowager asked with a frown.

  Ari shook her head.

  “I related the basic conditions as instructed. Then, I added the secondary conditions--the alliance with the Royal House, free land parcels, and full shared access to our superior medical facilities. They still refused.”

  “They said no,” Onduin repeated in disbelief. She and her mother had spent weeks assembling the concession package. She had not even entertained the notion that the Krat would turn them down.

  “But when I was leaving,” Ari continued, “you said you would undertake a most rigorous analysis of the remaining genetic material. What did you find?”

  The fact that all three women refused to meet her eyes gave her the answer.

  “We have two problems,” the dowager explained, “the genetic error that afflicted all our men has permeated through fifty percent of our existing chromosome stock. But the constant harvesting and duplication of the other fifty percent to fulfill population demands has introduced errors in the remaining stock. I’m afraid that if Onduin wishes to bear children, we cannot guarantee they would survive infancy.”

  “How could the Krat be so selfish?” Erinan demanded, her face contorted in anger. “We weren’t afte
r all their men, just those who were willing to start new lives. After all, it’s the survival of our species we’re talking about.”

  Ari turned slowly to stare at her cousin, something suddenly--belatedly!-- clicking in her brain.

  Survival of a species.

  On the one hand, a rich world, vastly under populated and slowly fading away through genetic error in the male line, despite the latest research in biogenetics and reproductive technologies.

  And on the other, a lost remnant of the Seti home world, also doomed to extinction through lack of females.

  Both looking for salvation. And, if it wasn’t for a chance encounter at Hell’s Market, both oblivious to each other.

  “I’ve got to leave,” she said urgently.

  “Leave?” Onduin repeated. “You mean this room?”

  “I mean this planet. I think I have a solution.”

  But the dowager was skeptical. “If you’re considering approaching another species, Arais, then I’m afraid it’s too soon. We chose the Krat after years of research, and it will take almost as long to decide on a substitute. We have to consider the economic as well as genetic consequences of any offer we make ….”

  “I have a way around that,” Ari interrupted, her eyes shining. “Have you heard of the Seti?”

  Nobody had.

  “I’m not surprised. They are a very new member of the Fusion. Their home world, I found out, was located at the edge of the sector.”

  “Was?” Onduin quizzed.

  “It was destroyed.” She held up a hand. “Hold on, let me finish. They were set upon by a species called the Lasc Prein ….”

  “I’ve heard of them,” the dowager commented, her tone chill. Their reputation had obviously reached the ears of other Fusion members.

  “Oh, who are they?” Erinan asked.

  “Let Ari finish!”

  “--who destroyed their planet after a prolonged series of disputes, wiping out the entire population.”

  “What good are they to us if they’ve been destroyed?”

  “Will you let me finish, Erin? While the population on the planet was wiped out, their Space Fleet wasn’t. Although extensively damaged, they escaped….” She paused and eyed them before completing her explanation. “…all eight thousand of them. All male.”