The Price of Discovery

by Leslie Dicken

  “But what? Either I am your Mharai or whatever…or your body follows Earth’s rules when it’s here.”

  The words from his conversation with Ankra tumbled inside of his head.

  “If you ask me, you aren’t with child because Greg is not your Mharai. It’s as simple as that.”

  “I think you’re wrong. I think it has something to do with the different atmosphere on Earth. Maybe that’s the reason they can’t control their fertility.”

  So was it Earth’s atmosphere that lured him to Erin or could it be that she actually was his Mharai? Hadn’t he had just about every sign that pointed to her as lifemate? But she was a human, just like Rita, just like all the others who regarded him with fear, repulsion, or annoying curiosity.

  Erin sighed. “You know what, Drakor, just forget it. I thought maybe I could help you. Maybe I could help your planet or something, but I’ll just stick around here with my own family.”

  He said nothing, his gut in turmoil, and watched her walk back up the hill and disappear around the front of the house.

  Was she really pregnant? He never believed he would have the chance for a child.

  Vehicle doors slammed and then a series of shouts snapped Drakor from his thoughts. Before he could react, Brundor came running down the hill, Sitora tight in his arms.

  “Activate the shuttle!” he yelled. “The others have arrived.”

  Drakor’s blood turned to ice. No. They couldn’t be here yet. He hadn’t tried to get his sister from Rita’s grasp yet, he hadn’t settled the issue with Erin yet.

  But he had to save his family.

  Drakor hastily punched in the code and their lifeline home appeared next to him. Brundor entered the code on the side and the gangplank lowered to the grass.

  “Go on and get in,” Drakor called. “I’m going back for Ankra.”

  His heart frantic and his throat tight, Drakor sprinted up the hill. Around the front of the house, he found several men wearing dark suits arguing with Rita. These must be the other FBI agents she sent for.

  His sister leaned against the black vehicle, her face calm and Greg’s arm around her shoulder. They looked peaceful, happy, and in love. But how could she feel that way with a human? Greg couldn’t be her Mharai, could he?

  A sudden “No!” caught his attention and found Erin in the middle of the melee. Drakor moved closer but hung back near the house in the shadows.

  “You don’t need the rest of them,” Erin cried. “You have Ankra, let the others go.”

  “Our orders were to retain all of them,” one man answered.

  “They must return home. Why isn’t one enough?” She turned to Rita. “Can’t you do anything? You can’t let them keep everyone.”

  But when Rita shook her head, Erin ran from the group and headed toward the backyard, not seeing him nearby.

  “Hurry!” she shouted as she ran. “Go, before they stop you!”

  The same agent from earlier ran after her and the rush of adrenaline fired in Drakor’s veins. Save Erin. He had to save Erin.

  But the man reached her first. A quick jab of his gun to the back of her head knocked her to the ground.

  Drakor collapsed to his knees beside her, a frenzy of explosions echoing inside his skull.

  The sounds of voices muted as he leaned over Erin’s body. He could not see her sky-colored eyes or hear the sounds of her voice. All vision beyond her still form transformed into a haze as he focused on her.

  Something or someone touched his shoulder and he roared. Primitive. Powerful. The contact ended and he hunkered down over her, shielding her, cradling her in his lap.

  Amid the surge of protection, desire ebbed away…desire for passion, desire for home, desire for life. He wanted nothing if he did not have Erin.

  His father’s death plagued his troubled mind. Along with his mother insisting she join her mate in another life. She would rather be dead than be without him.

  The truest test of finding one’s Mharai. The willingness to die to remain together forever.

  In an instant, his vision and hearing cleared. He leaned close and heard Erin’s small breaths in his ear. She would live. And so would he.

  Drakor stood, lifting her in his arms. He carried her to the waiting shuttle, expecting resistance from the agents, even expecting a bullet in his back.

  But behind him he heard Rita’s voice. “Let them go, that’s an order. One is enough.”

  Drakor yearned to say good-bye to his sister but he didn’t want to turn around and chance his luck. They could return here in a few months or so. He could check on Ankra’s welfare and Erin could visit with Greg. But right now he had to get everyone out of here before Rita and her agents changed their mind.

  He headed up the gangplank and Sitora squealed. “Erin! You’re bringing Erin!”

  Brundor eyed him suspiciously. “Why do you bring her?”

  Drakor kissed Erin’s forehead then smiled when her eyes fluttered open. “Because she’s my Mharai and I can’t live without her.”

  About the Author

  To learn more about Leslie Dicken, please visit www.lesliedicken.com.

  Send an email to Leslie at leslie@lesliedicken.com. You can also follow her at twitter: http://twitter.com/LeslieDicken or friend her on Facebook.

  Look for these titles by Leslie Dicken

  Now Available:

  Taboo

  Beauty Tempts the Beast

  Time might march on but hidden in each human are the embers of evolution that flicker to life when nature insists.

  Evolution Embers

  © 2006 Mary Wine

  Earth is in trouble, flooded with pollution and uninhabitable for females, who are instead sent into space to live. As the birth rate becomes predominately male, the human race must find a way to stabilize the population. No chances will be taken on relationships doomed to failure because of personality conflicts. Males that desire a female to mate submit to intense testing and wait for a female whose results match. They will also agree to share-one female can provide children for two males and stabilizing the population must take precedence over personal choice.

  Jala is an Estroko, a female gladiator who trains and competes in martial arts. Only females can be Estroko and winning freedom from matching is an Estroko’s ultimate reward, but a dishonorable knee sweep ends that dream for Jala-sending her to be matched for reproduction.

  She comes face to face with a pair of males who consider her their match-and their possession. Jala won’t abandon her dreams because science says Cassian and Sion were meant for her. Cassian and Sion can’t fathom why Jala ignores the passion igniting between them.

  In an era when science controls attraction, what happens to the tender emotions that can bind more than just the body? Love doesn’t show up on test pages, it flows through the blood and takes root in the heart.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Evolution Embers:

  “Yefet is quite warm this season. You won’t be cold once we transport to the surface. Cassian and I have provided a sturdy home for you.”

  She hissed softly, making him raise that eyebrow again. Jala didn’t care if he did hear her. She wasn’t going to start holding her tongue to keep his ego polished. Even if she’d heard human males expected that sort of master-like treatment from their matches. Listening to gossip wasn’t the wisest idea but every negative comment she’d ever heard about ending up matched was surfacing from her memory to torment her.

  “I won’t thank you for building me a cage.”

  “It’s better than your training facilities.”

  She grinned and showed him an even row of teeth. “I guess that depends on who you ask. What you call a training facility was what I knew as a home.”

  “Females enjoy security.”

  He said it like he believed it. Jala felt her grin turn into a smile. “I enjoy taking care of myself.”

  “You shouldn’t have to.”

  “And why not?” She wasn’t smiling any longer
. Arrogant, egotistical male! She didn’t have a scrap of patience for their y-chromosome barbarian attitude. “I can provide for myself just fine! Just because I was born a female doesn’t mean I need a free ride. The law shouldn’t force me to be some male’s dependant.”

  “Match. You will be my match and it’s not a dirty word.”

  She snorted at him. Sion shook his head and stared at the defiance shining from her face. No one ever snorted at his orders! Hostile attitude certainly seemed almost too weak a word for her current mood.

  “Sion is a whole lot more even tempered than I am, Jala.”

  The opposite doorway was filled with the commander of the ship. He had darker features and black hair compared to the light golden hues of Sion. She flinched as she applied a name to one of them. Her fickle hormones were already turning against her. Flooding her blood stream and making certain she noticed little details about her male companions. Those embers of evolution encoded right into her genes, the damn things had been blissfully dormant but now it appeared her allotment of mercy had been exceeded. The Resource Department’s tests had dumped her right into close quarters with the sort of males who she found too attractive for her own good. During a competition, she could focus and avoid the issue. Cohabitating with them was going to be a much more difficult test of her composure.

  Living among females was nice and uncomplicated. You trained hard and indulged in friendly companionship. Men ruined that balance just by being male. They caused a chain reaction in the body that spelled disaster for any woman who wanted to keep her brain from becoming a slave to her uterus.

  “You seem to have missed a few lessons in manners.” The commander walked towards her with solid steps as his dark gaze cut into her. “Snorting is not an appropriate response to any officer.”

  Jala very precisely looked at the top of her arm. When a man joined Interlink force, his service number was laser inscribed on his left shoulder. Not that she could actually see her arm through the insulated suit but the commander’s face tightened as he understood her gesture.

  “It appears I didn’t register to follow your dictates. That’s too bad for you.” Her words sounded spiteful but she refused to care. Their approach was too certain, their words too full of their own authority over her. The walls were pressing in on her as she struggled to just breathe, her lungs felt too heavy to inflate. She felt like was a puppy at a pet store as it was boxed and sent home with whoever had paid the price for it. Forever expected to wait upon the whim of the owner for morsels of affection as well as the most basic of necessities. It was a humble position for a woman who had been so close to earning a living as the master and owner of her own school.

  “What in the cosmos is that?” Sion’s hand snaked up the pants she wore to clasp around her calf. Her legs were bent with both feet up on the bench she sat on because she’d been rubbing her knee. She hadn’t checked to make sure the fabric was pushed all the way back to her foot. Sion had sat on the other side of her feet and she’d left them there to keep the man from getting too close. That meant he could see up the baggy leg of the suit and his medically trained eye instantly found the brown bruising decorating her leg.

  He shoved the fabric up her leg as his eyes examined her. His face tightened with rage as he identified the severity of the injury.

  “Why wasn’t this treated?”

  “Because it didn’t matter once I’d lost my final match because of it. Let go of my leg.” She tried to yank her limb out of his grasp. His fingers tightened as he aimed harsh disapproval at her.

  “Do you have some kind of fetish for pain?” Sion asked the question in a whisper-soft voice. He was almost afraid to hear her answer. There were rumors about Estrokos liking rough handling. Her little rosy nipples weren’t pierced but that didn’t mean she didn’t enjoy other kinds of pain. Any female who drove herself hard enough to reach her senior year had to be able to work through pain, and it was possible that her decades of training had warped her senses until Jala considered it enjoyable.

  His hand was stroking her foot. Jala frowned as the firm strokes felt amazing while they worked at the throbbing agony that gripped her limb. The strength he had in that hand was amazing. It made her want to melt into a puddle and just enjoy the motion of his fingers. Comfort wasn’t something she was used to getting from anyone but herself. Only little girls got tender attention, but once they began to grow up, each Estroko student was expected to appear strong no matter what personal pain they might be enduring.

  An alternate dimension…demons…a dangerous game…will fiery passion be their only defense?

  Lord Night

  © 2006 Jessie Verino

  Temp agency owner Shannon Miller likes to play video games, but she never expected to find herself in one, let alone with a sexy scientist who makes her body melt with desire.

  Physicist Damien Richards is blind—and not only in matters that concern his sight. Despite the accomplishments he’s achieved in creating an alternate dimension, he still believes he is unwhole due to his physical impairment.

  When a lab accident propels the two into an experimental, alternate dimension, they find themselves playing a dangerous game, unable to return, fighting demons as well as a passion that could consume them both. Will they be able to face their personal fears and win the game of love?

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Lord Night:

  “Allow me to satisfy all your hungers this evening.”

  He led her inside, closing the doors behind him. She settled on the plush rug, leaning provocatively against silk pillows before the warmth of the fire. The little gold clasp of her robe winked at him, inviting him to explore the secrets it hid. But he wanted to go slow and savor the rest of the evening. Enjoy Shannon. He backed away from her before he acted on carnal impulse, and turned his attention to the champagne.

  The loud pop brought an explosion of bubbles over the lip of the bottle and sprayed his chest with the cold liquid, helping him maintain control.

  After he placed the two flutes filled with the sparkling wine on a silver platter, he added a little taste of everything, and two personal fondue bowls brimming with warm melted chocolate.

  The mirror above the mantle reflected his nude image bearing the large tray. Rather like a male slave of ancient Greece servicing his mistress. He smiled at the thought of playing the meek role before turning the tables and dominating the unsuspecting mistress with his dark passions. The thought had him hard and throbbing.

  He placed the tray beside her on the floor. “Mistress, my humble offering.”

  He watched her gaze move from the tray to his rigid cock. Her tongue moistened her lips. “Not so humble a feast at all.”

  “Champagne?” he offered.

  She took the flute and held it high, never looking away from his midsection. “To feasts. May they always be…bountiful.”

  He held the other glass to hers and answered. “May you always have your fill.”

  She bit on her lower lip. “Everything looks delicious. I don’t know where to start.”

  He settled on his knees next to the tray. “Allow me,” he said and reached for a plump strawberry. He bit into the succulent fruit, releasing the sweet red juice. He traced the fleshy morsel over her parted lips, tempting her, before allowing her to take it into her mouth.

  Sweetness burst on her tongue when she sank her teeth into the berry.

  She watched in anticipation as his fingers hovered above the tray, but he didn’t choose another strawberry. Instead, he produced a small red mask from the tray. “I have a few surprises myself. This will make the experience more…tantalizing, more daring.”

  Her stomach quivered at the thought, and a delicious shiver ran from her hardened nipples to her swollen labia, releasing a scintilla of moisture. She leaned back into the pillows when he moved to straddle her, and she stretched languidly, rubbing her legs together, trying to increase the sensation.

  He placed the mask over her eyes. “Turn over,” h
e commanded.

  She felt the tug of the mask as he tied it into place. When she rolled onto her back, she opened her eyes, testing it, but couldn’t see even a speck of light through the thick red silk.

  Even sensing his movements, she still gasped in surprise when the next strawberry touched her lips. Warm, creamy chocolate coated the fruit and it spread over her tongue as she ate. Oh yeah, she could get used to this.

  “I need another sip of champagne.”

  The brush of his fingers against her bare skin tickled, but the light caress didn’t linger. He grasped the amethyst and pulled gently on the chain. “You didn’t say please.”

  She arched her back and lifted herself to her elbows, careful not to let the slight tension lesson. “Please?” The word escaped her in a breathless supplication.

  The cool rim of the flute coaxed her mouth open, and he allowed her one sip of the sparkling liquid before denying her another.

  Her frustration mounted as he played with her this way. Each time she felt the tug of the chain or the taste of sweetness on her lips, she begged him to satisfy her, or end the torment. He refused to do either.

  He sucked her firm nipples, holding them taut with the chain, until she cried out from the agonizing pleasure of it, only to be rewarded by the caress of his breath across the wet buds and nothing more. She squirmed beneath him, trapped between his strong thighs and the chain, helpless to do anything but whimper in pleasure.

  When he finally unfastened the gold clasp of her gown, it fell away, exposing her fully to his gaze. The head of his shaft played against the skin above her mound. The little droplets of moisture he left behind only heightened her fervor.

  “Do not move,” he commanded. The weight of the chain lessened and he placed the amethyst between her breasts.

  She had begged for relief from the sweet torment earlier, but now the loss of it made her crave it all the more. The heat of his breath caressed her bare stomach when he crouched low over her, like a predator stalking her scent.