by Robyn Bachar
“Hello, beautiful,” Bryn greeted. Sabine stirred and smiled at the sound of her lover’s voice.
“I was just thinking about you.”
“Good.” Bryn kissed her. “I picked a mate for us. You’ll like him. He’s pretty. I’m going to take you to meet him now.”
Despite her mate’s brusqueness, Sabine sensed Bryn’s anxiety like needles prickling across her skin. They had both been dreading this moment, but there was nothing to be done other than to soldier on. She trusted Bryn. Bryn was her rock, her calm center of steadfast strength.
“Pretty is good. He agreed to both of us?” Sabine asked, surprised. What happened to Bryn was horrible. No male would want a sterile female as a mate, but Bryn deserved to be honored for her service to the resistance, not punished for what a former master had done to her. Maybe this male recognized that. Or maybe like her he was so fuzzed on phase pheromones that he could barely think straight, and would agree to any terms in order to sate his lust.
“Yes. It helps that he can afford us. Jace is Second Son of House Morningstar,” Bryn added.
“Is that important?” she asked.
“I’m sure he thinks so,” Bryn muttered.
It meant little to Sabine. Bryn had many tales of her life as a shadow sword, and of growing up on Cyprena, but Sabine had never been to the Cy’ren homeworld. Sabine pulled her closer and nuzzled her neck, and as she breathed in her lover’s familiar scent she caught a tang of blood. Intrigued, Sabine took a deep breath and caught the male’s scent on Bryn’s jacket. The phase’s hunger surged until her body shook from the need.
Sabine kissed the fresh bruise on her lover’s throat. “He bit you?”
“He did. I’m covered in your scent,” Bryn said. “It made him frisky. He’s very eager to meet you.”
Bryn was fully clothed, and Sabine frowned, deciding that she preferred the warm press of flesh against flesh. She nipped the skin below Bryn’s ear. Sabine was tired of talking, more concerned with the promise of her phase finally coming to an end.
“Can we go now?”
“Yes.”
“Good.” Sabine kissed her, pouring her passion and frustration into it. Reluctantly she drew away, and then slid from the medical bed and stood. Her legs were wobbly for a moment, and she clutched Bryn for balance.
“Do you want to dress first?” Bryn asked.
She snorted and shook her head. “Not for where we’re going.”
Sabine leaned on Bryn as they left the room. A human woman frowned at them in concern—the doctor, though she didn’t remember her name. Before the phase, Sabine had been very good with names, but now some days she barely remembered her own. It was hard to concentrate when flooded with constant sensation, consumed by the endless needs of the phase.
Sweat beaded on her brow as she stumbled along with Bryn, but then she was pulled into a cramped side corridor. Bryn kissed her fiercely, until all thoughts of their destination fled from Sabine’s mind.
“I love you,” Bryn said. “I need you to know that.”
Sabine blinked up at her. “I do. I love you too.”
“I’m so sorry, a’gra. I swore that when we went free I’d never share you again, but…” She trailed off, tears slipping down her cheeks. Sabine had seen Bryn whipped and beaten by their master, enduring terrible pain, but she never once cried. Bryn said that shadow swords never cried. Her lover’s anguish splashed Sabine like freezing water.
Before the phase, Sabine had been an aleithir—another of the few Cy’reni words she knew—able to read the emotions of those around her. The needs of the phase usually overrode the ability, so Bryn’s grief must be awful for it to crack Sabine’s fog.
She took Bryn’s face in her hands. “It’s not your fault. It isn’t anyone’s fault. Even before the phase started, we knew it would happen, and we might need a male mate when it did. I love you. It doesn’t matter who owns my body. You have my heart. You always will.”
“And you will always have mine.”
“He’s just another client to please,” Sabine assured her. “The most important thing is that we will be together.”
Bryn kissed her as though afraid to stop, but then she trailed light kisses down the side of Sabine’s neck, to her breasts and down her torso as she fell to her knees.
“I thought we were going somewhere?” Sabine asked, confused. Her breath caught as Bryn gazed up at her with hungry heat.
“We are. I thought I might take the edge off for you first.”
Bryn leaned in and ran her tongue along Sabine’s sex. With an eager moan, Sabine braced herself against the cool metal wall as the familiar pleasure of her lover’s skilled mouth arched her back and curled her toes, and then she was lost to the sensation.
Chapter Five
Bryn tried to keep her expression neutral as they approached Jace’s quarters. This was madness—sharing Sabine for an hour or two was one thing, but Jace was now a permanent client, complete with mate marks. In Bryn’s opinion, the only mate marks Sabine should wear were Bryn’s, and now they would both be branded the property of House Morningstar.
The door was unlocked, and when they entered Bryn was surprised at the emptiness of the room. One would think that the second son of a ruling house could afford a few comforts, or have picked up mementos of his travels, but at least it was clean and fairly spacious.
Jace sat on the edge of his bed—the comfortable, large mattress of a transport instead of the narrow bunk of a proper military ship—with the sheet draped over his lap. He rose once the door shut, and Sabine pounced on him, nearly knocking him back atop the mattress. Bryn swallowed the jealous growl that threatened to choke her and forced a laugh instead. Having been through the phase, she understood what needed to happen next. She hated it, but she understood it.
Bryn edged around the two Cy’ren as they pawed at each other, watching them closely. She wanted to be certain he wouldn’t hurt Sabine, unintentionally or otherwise. Sabine couldn’t say no in her state. The master had figured that particular detail out after a client had knocked Sabine around during a session and Sabine hadn’t set off the panic alert. After that, the bastard found new, higher-paying, sadist clientele for her. Pain as pleasure had never been Sabine’s thing before the phase; maybe it would be a lingering effect, a permanent change in her tastes, but they wouldn’t know for sure until the phase was over.
Leaning against Jace’s desk, Bryn eyed the couple. What Jace lacked in experience he seemed to make up for in enthusiasm. After a few moments of Sabine’s phase-addled attempts to maul Jace—dear gods, she was going to devour him, he’d better have more stamina than he looked—Bryn sighed and stepped in. She took a handful of Sabine’s long, wavy hair and gently pulled her head back. Jace glared at the interruption, and Bryn held Sabine still.
“I’m offering expert advice,” Bryn said. “You did say that you wanted to learn.”
“Proceed,” Jace replied.
“Bite her,” she said. “Like so.” Bryn tugged Sabine against her and bit her, keeping her mate in place with one hand while the other circled Sabine’s waist and dipped to stroke her sex. Sabine moaned, and Bryn indulged in drinking from her throat. She tasted divine, and Bryn happily drank her down as Jace watched. The phase pheromones had to be torturing him, and Bryn drew away to let him respond to her “lesson”. He pinned Sabine between them as Bryn continued to stroke Sabine, bringing her to a quick climax while Jace drank from her.
When he pulled away Bryn released Sabine’s hair, and once free she eagerly returned his bite.
“Sabine, don’t drain him dry. He’ll pass out, and you won’t be able to play with him,” she warned.
Sabine stopped and stepped away, licking her lips as though she had tasted a fine delicacy. Jace wavered for a moment, and then he glanced in Bryn’s direction.
“Don’t mind me.” Bryn waved a
nonchalant hand toward the bed.
“You’re still dressed,” Sabine complained.
“I’m going to leave for a bit. You two need time alone,” she said.
Sabine pouted. “But I want you both.”
“I did like the look of you with nothing but a sword,” Jace commented. “Despite the fact that you were growling at me at the time.”
“No naked dueling. It only ends in tears.” She forced an empty, cheerful smile. “You can both have me later, but for the next few hours you need to be alone together to bond. It’s a phase thing.” Bryn’s focus turned to Sabine. “This is Jace, by the way. You two haven’t been formally introduced. Jace, this is Sabine.”
“Jace.” Sabine repeated the name as though tasting it. The two peered at each other, and Sabine smirked. “You were right. He’s very pretty.”
Jace frowned. “I’m not pretty.”
“Yes you are, Second Son. Lucky for you she likes pretty.”
Bryn swallowed hard past a knot of emotion that threatened to choke her. She had to leave, and this was the best time to do it. Bryn tore her attention away from Sabine and glared at Jace. “Be good to her. And for gods’ sake, don’t hurt her. She’s had enough of that. I’ll return in a few hours.”
Jace nodded. “Very well. Dr. Morgan can help you if you need anything in the meantime.”
She forced another smile for Sabine. “Be gentle, he’s inexperienced. Try not to wear him out too much.”
Unwilling to look, Bryn gritted her teeth and marched out of the room. Her eyes blurred and burned as she hurried away through unfamiliar corridors. She didn’t have a destination—she didn’t have a purpose. Bryn had spent the past two years planning her escape and looking after Sabine, and now instead of freedom they had a new master.
She’d failed.
The increasing hum of machinery warned that she was nearing the engine room, and Bryn hugged her arms to her chest and scowled as she realized that she still wore Jace’s uniform jacket. It was almost tempting to take her sword to the garment in frustration, but that would only leave her with a gaping coverall with a broken zipper. She took several deep breaths and forced herself to admit that it wasn’t his fault. Sabine had been right that it was no one’s fault, just an unavoidable fact of Cy’ren biology. The only things that allowed a female to avoid the phase were age, sterilization or pregnancy. Their master hadn’t allowed for pregnancy or sterilization, profiting from Sabine’s unquenchable sexual appetite.
Despite her dark mood, Bryn grudgingly accepted that this was a good arrangement. She didn’t want to share Sabine with Jace, or with anyone, but they wouldn’t be parted. There were plenty of worse things that could have happened. He seemed decent enough for a lord’s son, and sincere in his desire to make his new mates happy. The true test of his word would come after the phase ended, because with the pheromones driving him he’d promise them anything. Bryn was intrigued by the idea of a virgin nobleman—Jace could have bought himself enough mistresses to fill a transport. Why had he abstained?
She needed something to occupy her for the next few hours. Was she supposed to be on duty? Captain Hawke had mentioned that Dr. Morgan needed to clear her first. Perhaps she ought to start there—but the rumble of her empty stomach reminded Bryn that she hadn’t eaten in some time. Food first, med bay second.
It was strange to walk the decks of a ship again. She had served aboard the Sabre for nearly three years before it was destroyed. For a long time after she’d had nightmares of shrieking alarms, burning corridors and the screams of dying crewmates. Sabine had helped her overcome that—sometimes the best cure for a bad dream was to be held and reassured afterward that everything would be all right. Squaring her shoulders, Bryn shook the memory off and stepped into the mess hall.
The ship’s cook was human—or at least humanoid, because his skin had an odd greenish cast to it—and seemed friendly. He filled her tray without question, and then Bryn scanned the room for a seat. It was fairly crowded at the moment, filled with the techs and specialists who kept the ship running, and Bryn wondered what time it was. The mass of food on her plate seemed appropriate for an evening meal. Protein, carbs and sauce of some sort, she guessed. Cy’ren and humans shared similar dietary needs, though not always the same tastes. Most of the crew was human, like the crew of the Sabre had been. Even after generations of access to interstellar flight, the Cy’ren still struggled to train their people in ship operation. Only high-ranking Cy’ren could afford such an education, and those who could seldom went off-world. It begged the question of why the Second Son of House Morningstar was serving with the resistance. Was he running from something?
She spotted a familiar figure seated alone at a corner table—Malcolm. He was hunched over four data pads spread before him, frowning down at the screens while his food sat untouched. He and his lover Alexi had visited the brothel once or twice a week for over a year. As such she felt like she knew him pretty well—or at least she knew what he liked—and Bryn wouldn’t have pegged him for an indexer. Really the man didn’t belong on a jump station at all. He blushed every time he came to their establishment, and avoided removing more clothing than absolutely necessary.
Bryn took the seat next to him. “Malcolm. Eat.”
“I’m almost finished.” Malcolm looked up at the sound of her chuckle and blinked at her. “Oh. Bryn. You look different with clothes on.”
“So I’ve been told.”
Malcolm winced. “Sorry. That was rude of me. I’m not used to dealing with so many people. Alexi…” He trailed off, his shoulders slumping.
“He didn’t make it?” she asked, and he shook his head. “Oh, baby. I’m so sorry.”
Looking miserable, he fidgeted with his spectacles, and Bryn squeezed his shoulder. Alexi was the reason Malcolm came to the brothel—he wanted to make his lover happy. Alexi had been boisterous, outgoing and generally good-natured. He was the sort who hired a few girls just so he could be the center of attention and make a show of how virile he was. Malcolm mostly watched, which was probably typical for an indexer. Their profession was more passive than active, gathering other people’s data instead of performing their own research.
“Sabine is with Lieutenant Commander Harrow now?” he asked. “You’re wearing his coat.”
“Yes. Eat your food. You’re skin and bones as it is,” she scolded.
“I’m almost finished,” he muttered.
“What are you working on?”
“Decrypting files for the captain. Slaver files. Something they found at their last stop. It’s not difficult, just time consuming. I can’t resume my search for the Lazarus data until we reach Cyprena.”
“Lazarus data?” she asked.
“It’s why the mercenaries were after me. I…oh, I probably shouldn’t say more. But Lieutenant Commander Harrow can tell you about it.” Malcolm yawned and rubbed his eyes, and then scratched at the high collar of his shirt as though his skin itched. He always seemed to be drowning in layers of mismatched clothing. She’d never seen him naked, but Alexi had been the sort to strip the moment he walked through the door.
“When was the last time you slept?” Bryn asked.
He shrugged. “Been awhile. I don’t remember.”
“Okay. Here’s the deal. Put the work away. Eat your food, and then get some rest. You can start fresh after that.”
“Are you going to put me to bed?” he asked absently, and then winced. “Not like that. I mean…”
Bryn laughed. “I know what you meant. Alexi looked after you like I look after Sabine, didn’t he?”
“Yes.” He sighed with clear relief.
Bryn speared a mouthful of food. Bland, but hot. Better than most of the food she’d had the last few years. “Try it, it’s not bad,” she encouraged.
Convincing the indexer to eat was a battle she was all too familiar with. Sabine�
�s appetite had been poor since the onset of the phase. After confiscating the data pads, she coaxed him into finishing half of his plate. She tried to engage him in conversation, but Malcolm was quiet and constantly apologized when he did manage to say something. He watched the rest of the crowd in the mess hall with guarded, furtive glances.
After Bryn choked down as much food as she could stomach, she escorted Malcolm back to his quarters and stepped inside after him.
“Could you stay? I don’t mean in a sex way,” Malcolm explained in a rush. “You’re very pretty, and I appreciate that you were always nice to me, but I don’t really think of you that way.”
“I know, baby. You prefer the company of men to the company of women,” she replied.
His eyes widened. “How do you know that?”
“I paid attention.” Bryn smiled and squeezed his shoulder.
“I do like women,” he clarified. “I mean, they’re attractive. But I loved Alexi, and I was there for him. Not for me, or you, though you were always good at your work.” Malcolm winced. “That sounded wrong.”
“I understand. I can stay for a few hours, but then I’ll need to check on Jace and Sabine.”
“Did he take you both as mates?”
“He did, actually. I wasn’t expecting that, but I’m grateful for it.”
“So why are you here and not there?”
Bryn cracked a dry smile. “You’ve never seen two Cy’ren in phase before, have you? They won’t even notice that I’m gone. They need time to bond, to get acclimated to each other during the next step of the phase. I’ll join them after that.”
“You don’t want to share her,” Malcolm said, and she nodded. “I understand. I never wanted to share Alexi either, but I wasn’t enough for him.”