Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 55108 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 276(@200wpm)___ 220(@250wpm)___ 184(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55108 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 276(@200wpm)___ 220(@250wpm)___ 184(@300wpm)
My words seem to have no effect, so I go quiet.
Zina whispers into her ear, and after a moment, Enya goes quiet, although she still sniffles.
Without thinking, I reach out my hand and touch Zina’s arm. “I promise, you’re in good hands,” I tell her.
It’s like a spark to my fingers. Her skin is warm and soft, and pulses with life. She’s so fragile—these humans are all so delicate compared to Zandians! I fight the urge to push the little one aside and cradle Zina in my arms, against my chest.
She gasps, and then her fingers find mine, and for a second, she holds my hand.
“Thank you,” she says, her voice faint. “Forgive us if we don’t believe it yet. We haven’t known much kindness.” She pulls the girl closer with the arm already wrapped around her. “And we don’t know what’s coming.” She looks directly at me—right into my unseeing eyes. My gaze alert lights up to 100 percent. She really wants me to hear her on this.
“What’s coming is asylum. For both of you.” I squeeze her fingers. I’m reluctant to let go, but I release her hand, so I don’t alarm her. “Do you know that many human females live on Zandia?”
I’ve been told not to say anything to either of them about Enya’s mother, or why we really rescued them. It’s not my story to tell. Dr. Daneth and King Zander will oversee the young’s reunion with her mother.
“I didn’t know.” Zina licks her lips. “I know nothing about your planet. Is there more fluid?”
“Of course.” I nod to the med tech and say, “Fluids,” and he immediately brings over a fresh tube of juice. “Do you need sustenance?”
“Not yet.” She sucks the fluid, and as I hear her lips on the tube, my mind goes elsewhere. I sense my own skin darken the way Drayk’s did a few minutes earlier, and a very different part of my anatomy awakens.
“You said… human females live on your planet Just… females?” I sense her body tense up. She’s scared.
“Mostly females, yes. As breeders. Well, not always breeders, some unmated humans are permitted to remain and work, if the king grants them asylum.” This doesn’t seem to comfort her. “Females pick,” I blurt, trying to make it better. “They choose which males they wish to be bred with. To mate.”
“Oh.” Her voice is taut. “I see.”
I’ve still not calmed her fears.
“Not Enya,” I hurry to assure her. “The young will not be given to any male. But when she’s of age, she will select. She will control it.”
She narrows her eyes. “Great.” A beat. “I suppose it wouldn’t matter if you were lying. We’re here, regardless. Going where you take us.” For the first time, her shoulders droop.
“It does matter.” My voice is firm, almost angry—but not at her. I’m furious at life, at fate, for putting her into a place where she has to say that. “It matters to me and to our honor. Zandians don’t lie.”
I touch her arm and my horns thicken at the zing of sensations. There’s no mistaking it—I want this female. Badly.
I force myself to concentrate. To say something to put her at ease. “You must have been through a lot.”
It was the right thing to say.
“Yes, we have.” Her odor, despite the sweat and dirt, bewitches me. There’s something essentially female beneath it, a scent I want to smell over and over, to figure it out—
I swallow. “Well, you’re out of Ocretion hands now. And Zandians don’t keep slaves.” I blink. Wonder what she thinks about me. What I look like to her. I know I’m large, more muscular than most Zandians, even. Probably she thinks I’m some kind of monster.
She coughs again.
“Are you all right?” I lean in, reach forward, intending to run my fingers over her pack, so I can link up my tactile sensors to the output port and read her vitals.
She shifts, perhaps in surprise or alarm, and instead of contacting the pack, I put my palm firmly onto her chest. Her breasts. Taut, firm perfect breasts.
She squeaks.
My cocks hardens instantly, horns tilt in her direction. I should remove my hand. Should apologize. Instead I find my thumb shifting to lightly brush over her nipple, growling when it stiffens under my touch.
She gasps and I yank my hand away.
“I’m sorry, I did not intend—” I try to make sense of the riotous thoughts swirling through my head. “I intended only to touch your pack. The medical pack. It’s on your shoulder.”
“Yes, I know, it’s there, ah, yes.” Her voice is high and tense. But I don’t think I hear anger. “It’s all right. I don’t mind. I mean, I don’t, ah.” She takes a breath. “I’m fine. Thank you. Fine. Yes.”
“Okay, good. Fine. Yes.”
Somehow, I’m holding her hand again. How in the stars did that happen? “I just want to ensure you are not suffering any… thing. Issue. Ahem.”