by Robyn Bachar
“How do you feel?” he asked.
“Better. My head is clearer. I suppose I have you to thank for that. I want to drag you back to bed and ride you until you beg for mercy, but no withdrawal symptoms. No strong ones, at least.”
A dull, aching pain throbbed through her body, but it was usually overshadowed by the lustful needs of the phase. It was one of the main reasons the master had kept her in phase in the first place—it enabled him to set her up with clients who wanted rougher trade than Sabine had previously been used to. Though some females enjoyed such things, she never had a taste for it. So far, Jace was a refreshing change. Yes, he’d left a few bruises on her and Bryn, but that was out of overzealousness, not out of a desire to cause pain.
Jace closed his eyes and his breath hitched. “You are going to be the death of me.”
Sabine giggled. “I’d tell you not to get used to it, but Bryn accused me of being voracious even before the phase.”
“Good to know.” Jace opened his eyes again and glanced past her at the screen on his data terminal. Sabine turned to see what he was working on, and her brow rose at the image of a young Cy’ren female. Her silvery hair was cropped short and neat, and she stared at the camera with pride and determination.
“Is that Bryn?” she asked.
“Yes. This is her service record.”
“She looks so different, especially in her uniform. I’ve known her over two years, and this is the first time I’ve seen her in clothing,” Sabine admitted.
Jace’s eyes widened. “I thought she was joking about that. You truly had no clothing?”
“The master said it was wasteful. We didn’t need it for our work. He kept the environmental controls high enough so we didn’t catch a chill.”
“Bastard,” Jace growled.
She didn’t disagree. Not all of her masters had been cruel. Most were merely ignorant—unable or unwilling to see the suffering they caused. They thought of slaves as just another possession, like furniture or machinery, but still provided basic needs like food, clothing and shelter. The brothel’s owner had been the first and only master who’d been determined to make her feel like nothing.
“It was a power play, meant to control us,” she explained. “We couldn’t escape, because even jump station security couldn’t miss a naked female roaming the halls. He wanted us to feel like nothing because we had nothing. But it didn’t quite work.”
“No?”
Sabine smiled. “We still had each other.”
“I see.” Jace kept his expression neutral, but she felt his jealousy like a twist of gnawing hunger. Yet it vanished as quickly as it flared. “Would you like to read her record?”
“I can’t.”
“I’m sure she wouldn’t mind.”
“I can’t read. I never learned. Bryn promised to teach me. She stole a data pad once to start, but Ama caught her.”
Jace looked as horrified as Bryn had when she’d learned of Sabine’s illiteracy. It was strange to them but normal to her. Most of the other born slaves she had known couldn’t read. Another power play, intended to keep slaves in their places. Again, it prevented escape attempts, because most slaves wouldn’t get far without the ability to read a map or signage. Jace gently drew a finger over her owner’s marks. There were six in total. Bryn had four.
“Is something wrong?” she asked.
“No, not wrong. I was thinking about my family. I’m not sure you’ll like them. I’m not sure I like them,” he admitted.
“Is it nice, where your family lives? Bryn used to tell me what House Wintersend was like, but I assume your home is different.”
“Very different. Wintersend shares a city with three other houses. House Morningstar has its own city, and my family has its own compound within it.”
“You have your own city?” The sheer enormity of the idea was almost too much to wrap her mind around, especially after having spent the last few years confined within a few rooms on a jump station.
“My father has his own city,” Jace corrected. “One day it will go to my brother, Wylarric.” He stroked her hair, studying her with a pensive expression. “There are things we need to discuss. Soon, before Bryn leaves.”
“Leaves?” Sabine asked, startled.
“Only for a short while. The captain wants her cleared for active duty. Do you think you can stand to be alone with me for a few hours?” he teased.
Relieved, Sabine smirked. “I can, if you can keep up with me.”
“Good. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll finish dressing and get us something to eat.”
For a moment she considered demanding that he bend her over his desk before he left, but if she was spending a few hours alone with him they would both need a meal to fuel them first. Sabine kissed him lightly and rose, deciding to return to the warmth of the bed.
After Jace left, Sabine kissed Bryn awake. “Good morning.”
“Is it morning already? Did you even sleep?” Bryn asked.
“I slept well. I’m feeling better. Well, not cured better, but no shakes or dizziness.”
“Good.” Bryn rubbed her eyes and glanced around. “Where’s the second son?”
“He’s bringing us breakfast.” Sabine giggled at the shock on Bryn’s face.
“Am I still dreaming?” she asked.
“No. He said he wants to speak with us before you leave to be cleared for duty.” Sabine caressed Bryn’s cheek and gazed at her thoughtfully. “Will you be gone for long?”
“To be cleared? Not too long, a few hours—”
“No, I mean, when you’re off fighting for the resistance. I assume I can’t come with you when you do, right?”
“Ah. Right. I don’t know how long I’ll be gone. It depends on the assignment. But I’ll always come home to you, I promise. I love you.”
The warmth of Bryn’s devotion enveloped Sabine, and she smiled. “I love you too.”
“I suppose I ought to get cleaned up if I’m leaving the room.” Bryn kissed her and slipped from Sabine’s embrace.
“Can I watch you shower?” she asked, and Bryn laughed.
“Sure, a’mhain.”
Sabine eagerly followed Bryn to the small washroom. It must be such a luxury, she mused, to have such a thing to oneself. The girls had shared a communal shower—never any privacy, never a moment’s peace. Leaning back against the sink, Sabine pleasured herself as she watched her lover under the spray of the water. Bryn grinned and blew her a kiss before cupping her breasts for Sabine’s approval. Sabine licked her lips and thought of Bryn’s sweet taste but resisted the temptation to join her.
“You’re beautiful, a’gra.” Sabine’s voice was low and husky as the sensation built within her. The phase demanded more, and she whimpered as she increased her pace.
“You’re going to jump the second son when he gets back, aren’t you?” Bryn teased.
“Gods, yes.”
Chuckling, Bryn shook her head as she washed her hair. Yes, Sabine would fuck Jace when he returned, and she moaned in anticipation. A few hours alone with him, with his cock all to herself… For a moment she felt guilty about daydreaming of Jace and not Bryn, but Bryn would be back, and she didn’t seem to mind. In fact, Bryn’s energy was calm and content, and that was almost as miraculous as the breaks in the fog of Sabine’s phase.
There was strength in Bryn, an intensity that had never been beaten out of her—it was what had first drawn Sabine to Bryn. She’d never met a female like her before. Most females, Sabine included, were used to keeping their gaze downcast, but Bryn held her head high and looked everyone in the eye. It’d gotten her into trouble with their master on more than one occasion, and Bryn learned to adjust, but her will was never broken.
It was Bryn’s strength that had ignited a desire in Sabine for a better life. She wanted more than the same day lived o
ver and over again, doing the master’s bidding. She wanted freedom and a future with her lover, and for the first time in her life she’d truly thought of escape. They had dreamed of returning to Cyprena, of building a life together in their own home in the Wintersend compound. Now they were free…after a fashion. Now their home would be Jace’s home, decorated with his things, purchased with his money.
She spotted movement past the doorway and realized that Jace had returned. Sabine darted after him, her line of thought forgotten.
“Go get him,” Bryn called after her, chuckling again.
Jace barely had time to set the tray of food down before she pounced on him. For a moment his eyes widened as she kissed him. Then the phase caught them and the storm broke, all other thoughts abandoned. With a hungry growl he shed his clothes, but he didn’t lead Sabine back to the bed. Instead he lifted her as though she was light as air and pinned her against the wall. The metal was cold against her bare skin as she wrapped her legs around his waist and his cock plunged into her sex.
Sabine cried out—dear gods, he was amazing. She hoped it wasn’t all the phase, and she could look forward to more exquisite pleasure from him afterward. Jace pounded her, relentless and frenzied. The sensation built until the explosion of climax overwhelmed her. He followed soon after, and she shivered as each pulse of his cock sent delicious waves of ecstasy through her. After he withdrew and set her down, they both turned at the scolding tsk from his desk.
“Careful. You can pull a muscle that way.” Bryn was seated in his chair, calmly braiding her hair.
Jace snorted. “I’ll keep that in mind. You’re wearing my jacket.”
“And your pants and shirt too. Thanks.”
He chuckled and brushed an affectionate kiss against Sabine’s hair before sauntering over to Bryn. Jace took hold of her chin and tilted her face up to meet his as he bent to give her a scorching, possessive kiss that made Sabine’s pulse race to watch.
“I’m not on the menu next,” Bryn warned when he drew away.
“I know. Later, though…” He trailed off, and Bryn’s face flushed.
“Greedy,” Bryn said. Sabine didn’t hear any venom in her voice though, and she knew Bryn didn’t mind his attention.
Sabine joined them at the desk and eyed the food warily. She should eat, though the sight of it turned her stomach. The phase pushed her to crave sex and not food, but this new, gnawing hunger that the doctor called withdrawal was something else. For now she was content to give in to the demands of the phase, but the other need—it was like chasing a dream. She missed the warm oblivion that the drugs had caused, where she didn’t care about the phase, or what her clients did to her. Though she understood the danger of it, and why she couldn’t ever allow it to happen again, the knowledge didn’t dissipate the craving.
Jace redressed quickly, and then opened his locker and searched through the clothing within. Finally he produced a black robe and held it out to Sabine, and she frowned at it. “You should have something to wear,” he said.
“Why?”
“Because…” He frowned, fumbling for words.
“Because civilized people dress for meals, and we’re civilized now,” Bryn said.
“Oh.” It seemed an unnecessary fuss considering she would just shed the thing after the meal, but Sabine shrugged and accepted the garment, even though it was too big for her. She belted the sash tightly but still felt as if she were drowning in fabric.
“It’s not that. Well, not just that. I want you to have something. A lot of things, really,” Jace said, still seeming flustered. “I want—here, we can discuss it while we eat.”
Sabine sat on Bryn’s lap. Jace studied the pair for a moment, and then chose a plate from the tray and took a seat at the edge of the bed. Bryn began to eat, and Sabine waited, knowing her lover would coax her into following suit.
“What’s on your mind?” Bryn asked.
“I’ve been thinking about what you said, about how being a mate is not far from being a slave. I don’t want you to feel like that. I want you to be happy. To be able to pursue whatever interests you have.”
“Within limits,” Bryn said.
Jace sighed. “There would need to be some limits, yes. As my mate I expect you to be faithful to me, and not become involved with any other males.”
“That’s fine by me. As long as Bryn and I are together,” Sabine said.
“I have no interest in other males.”
He nodded. “In addition to being my mate, I’d like to offer you the position as my shathlinn, Bryn.”
Bryn’s brow rose, and Sabine peered at them both. She had never heard the term before, and she spoke only a few words of Cy’reni. “What does that mean?”
“It’s like a bodyguard. Permanent personal protection,” Bryn explained. “You worried that someone’s going to assassinate you?”
“The captain often threatens to. She suggested this idea. You have an excellent service record, and I’ve experienced your skill with a blade firsthand,” he replied dryly. “As my shathlinn, you would be expected to be always at my side. It would allow us to serve together aboard the same ship. The position would also offer financial advantages that aren’t granted by the mate rights currently available to you.”
Financial advantages sounded encouraging. Jace was projecting genuine sincerity, though Bryn remained guarded. “Say yes,” Sabine urged, and Bryn chuckled.
“Let me ask him a few questions before I agree to anything, a’gra. You don’t have a problem with having a female shathlinn?”
“I don’t have a problem having a shadow sword as a shathlinn,” he said. “There are a few other things you should know.”
“Oh?” Sabine picked up her plate and helped herself to mixed fruit of some sort. Bryn was too busy stabbing the food on her own plate to offer her a bite. The syrupy sweetness turned Sabine’s sour stomach.
“Yes. As you’ve become fond of reminding me, I am the second son. My older brother, Wylarric, is the heir. He views me as a threat, afraid I’ll attempt to remove him and become heir myself. He tried to have me killed when I was twelve years old, and again when I reached my majority. I became a shadow sword to learn how to defend myself. I joined the resistance to put as much distance between us as possible to keep him from trying again.”
“That’s awful,” Sabine said.
“And you didn’t think we needed to know this before agreeing to become your mates?” Bryn asked. Anger sizzled through her, and Sabine squirmed atop her lap.
“I was not thinking clearly.”
“Because you were thinking with your cock instead of your head,” Bryn retorted.
“Perhaps.” Jace shrugged. “I’ve been often informed that males only have enough blood to power one or the other.” Bryn snorted with surprised amusement, and though Jace was attempting to appear unaffected, Sabine noted a furrow in his brow and a line of tension in his shoulders. “Judging by how you bested me, I was confident that you would be able to protect Sabine.”
“Do you really think your brother would try to kill me?” Sabine asked.
“It is possible. Cy’ren have always been a people of strong instincts. We’re jealous, territorial. Wylarric sees me as a threat to his power, and I am, whether or not I plot against him. He has daughters, but no sons. Until he produces one, I am his heir. I hadn’t taken a mate before this out of concern that she wouldn’t be safe on Cyprena. But with you, Bryn, I knew that this could work. Who better to protect my mate than a shadow sword who would always be at her side?”
“And if I hadn’t been here? Would you have left Sabine to the wolves?” Bryn asked.
“Of course not. I would have made arrangements for her protection. But no bodyguard will ever be as motivated as you.”
“It sounds like a gilded cage, with hungry beasts clawing at it,” she countered.
; Jace sighed and hung his head. “Perhaps it is. But it’s all I can offer. Regardless, I do want you to be happy. You both deserve happiness.”
“What would make you happy?” Sabine asked. It seemed to her as though he had been avoiding his family, like a runner trying to keep one step ahead of the slavers. Afraid to let anyone close enough to him to become a potential target.
“I’m perfectly happy.”
“No, you’re not.” To emphasize her point, Sabine set her nearly untouched plate down and crossed to him. Sitting beside him, she traced the furrow of his brow with the tip of her finger. “You frown too much. It’s beginning to wear a crease in your skin here.”
His pale eyes widened, and he took her hand and brushed a kiss against her knuckles. “That’s very observant of you.”
“She’s good at that,” Bryn commented. “She ought to be. She’s an aleithir.”
“Really?” Jace’s brow rose.
Sabine blushed. “That’s what Bryn says it’s called. I haven’t been able to read much since the phase began, though. It’s beginning to come back.”
“You two can discuss that while I’m gone.” Bryn set her empty plate aside. “I’ll think on what you’ve said, but I believe I’m wanted elsewhere at the moment.” She rose and straightened her borrowed jacket, and then crossed to them, kissing them both affectionately. “Make sure she eats something. Other than you.”
Jace chuckled. “Of course.”
Sabine watched her lover leave, and then turned her focus back to Jace. Bryn’s suggestion teased her with thoughts of sliding to her knees and sucking Jace’s cock, but she pushed the images aside. Not yet.
“My sister, Andelynn, is an aleithir,” Jace said. “Until now, she was the only one I had met.”