Ravished: A Dark Sci Fi Romance (Centauri Captives Book 2)

by Kallista Dane

  “She’s sleeping. Best not to disturb her.”

  “How…how is she?”

  “I think we’re out of danger,” he replied. “She’s better, though still very weak. Luckily, your mate is as much of a fighter as you are. She doesn’t give up easily.”

  “And her…” I couldn’t bring myself to ask the question.

  “Her mental state is fine.”

  “So it was just the tea making her say those crazy things.” I breathed a sigh of relief. “I should never have given it to her without your permission, but she seemed to like it last time. Thank the gods your serum worked,” I added.

  Moju shook his head. “It wasn’t the tea…and it wasn’t my potion that cured her. I’ve been running tests in my lab. In every one, the serum broke down.”

  “Then Terrans must have antibodies for the virus in their blood, too.”

  “She didn’t when she first fell ill. But she does now. And I know why she’s still throwing up.” The last words were delivered with a smile.

  I frowned at him. “Yes. It’s because she’s sick. I hardly think it’s appropriate for my chief medical officer to find that humorous.”

  “There’s a difference between finding something humorous and being happy. This is my happy smile. Your mate is not out of her right mind. Little Dylolo is making her better.”

  “Now, you’re the one who sounds mad.”

  “Not at all. Females have a powerful connection with their offspring we males cannot begin to understand, from the time they’re in the womb. If she believes Dylolo communicated with her, who am I to doubt it? Though, from a medical standpoint, all I can tell you is it seems this fetus is carrying his papa’s antibodies for the virus, and, somehow, they’ve been shared with your mate. Your unborn child saved his ama’s life, Dylos.”

  He clapped me on the shoulder, beaming. “Congratulations, Admiral! You’re about to become a father.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Trina

  “No, I am not leading the battle.” Dylos’s voice never rose, but I recognized the tension behind the words. I also knew how hard this decision had been for him. One he would never have made without the advent of little Dylolo who currently grew beneath my heart. I pressed my palm to my still-flat abdomen, humming his favorite tune.

  Commander Joran, whose mission to lead the other arm of the fleet had been paused during the admiral’s illness, protested loudest. “But Dylos—that is, Admiral, sir, we need you. No other can take on such an important task.”

  Dylos had expected this response, had shared his plans with me in the privacy of our quarters while I regained my strength after the virus nearly stole not only my life but our child’s. I had mostly listened, amazed that this man who held his people’s future in the palm of his broad, capable hands would entrust me with his thoughts. My master, for I still called him that, was firm and unyielding, but also warm and loving. My eyes filled with tears—something that happened often now—at the thought of our child on his lap while he sang that silly Terran song they both seemed to love.

  The young commander was fierce in his loyalty to his people and his admiral. Also, for an Arythian officer, humble. Ready to defer to Dylos, but also to stand behind his decisions. Although Rahal had technically been in charge during the admiral’s illness, his role had been more to bolster Joran’s confidence, and test his readiness to take on the day-to-day command of the fleet.

  While the father of my babe sat in his command chair, speaking to his captains and other officers, most of whom were still present only in hol form, I stared at my screen, finding it hard to concentrate on the quartermaster duties I’d only recently been allowed to resume. While I had been under the weather, others had once again stepped in, but I still had some catching up to do.

  Under the weather. Try, at death’s door. Whatever made me think I was immune to the virus that nearly took the admiral’s life? While he was ill, I didn’t consider my safety—a sure sign of being in love. But afterward, I made the mistake of assuming and only fate and the kindness of some Arythian god kept me from passing it to the crew. Moju believed enough time had passed to feel fairly confident no one else would be coming down with it, although he couldn’t be 100 percent sure, so a slight edge of nerves remained.

  The medic also felt confident it would have been nearly 100 percent fatal to any of the others. To me, if not for the tiny fetus who had saved my life by passing along his father’s immunity. I’d give up anything for him, brutally kill any being that tried to harm a hair on his head or on Dylos’, a fierce protectiveness I’d never experienced before the event that should have been bad and yet was nothing but good. Perhaps I should send that weasel Ravensworth and his wife a birth announcement. And a thank you card.

  But thoughts of the birth drew my eyes to the baby’s father who was nearly twice my size. How large were their children at birth? A flashing light in the corner of the screen before me indicated a problem with one of the planting beds. As quartermaster, I was ultimately responsible for food supplies, and when I saw which bed it was, I jumped to my feet with a gasp.

  “Trreena?” Dylos and his officers were all looking at me. “What is it, Quartermaster? A problem with supply?”

  “But a minor one, Admiral.” Our formality drew grins from the tall, muscular crewmen who surrounded him. And lovers wouldn’t address one another that way, but while on the bridge, we agreed we must maintain standards. Still, the banked flames in his eyes carried the message that once we were alone, he would strip me naked, bend me over, and show me just how much he wanted me. The secret place between my legs throbbed in the rhythm only he’d ever been able to elicit, and I wished we didn’t have hours of duty left before that could happen. “No need to interrupt your meeting. I just need to go check on something in the greenhouse area.”

  But he waved his officers aside and rose. “Quartermaster, your reaction indicated more than a minor issue. I believe I will accompany you to determine the extent of the problem.”

  Oh jeez. “Admiral, I assure you, it is not a matter worth ending your meeting.” To me, it was huge. Gigantic. The salsa bed, the very first human food I’d be able to eat, once it grew, was sending out distress signals. Not comparable to an epic battle with a world-killing enemy. But I fell asleep every night dreaming of dipping the ngast chips I’d finally tried out into a spicy, chunky pico de gallo. He came to my side, and I murmured, “Really, Dylos. It’s just a small thing.”

  “You paled, tassi,” he said, escorting me from the bridge. “You’re too recently cured of the virus to take chances. Perhaps I should go check on the problem while you rest.”

  “No!” I protested, and he jerked back.

  “What could have you in such a state?” His concern had his skin flickering through a variety of pale shades that reminded me of spring on Earth.

  Now, I had the admiral of the entire fleet worried about me because my tomatoes weren’t getting adequate amounts of minerals. I felt like an idiot, and tears sprang to my eyes.

  “Tassi.” He stopped and turned me toward him, his gaze searing through me. “You can tell me anything. Have the crops failed?”

  I sniffled and buried my face in his uniform front, soaking it with my ridiculous tears.

  “Trreena.” He tipped my chin up. “We can replant. We always plan ahead and have extra stores, and the other ships all grow as well. But I must know.”

  I was upset, sure, but why was I sobbing like this over tomatoes? “No,” I wept. “It’s nothing like that. Just…I have to get to the tomatoes.” I turned and raced for the lift to the greenhouse level, but not only was I still a little weak, his legs were much longer and he caught up to me.

  “Toh may toes?” he queried, slinging an arm over my shoulders and bringing me close to him. “Is that one of the Terran plantings?”

  “Yes.” I waited for him to be angry or disappointed, but when I met his gaze, I found, to my shock, humor. “What’s so funny?”

  He ca
ressed my cheek. “Mantsk told me that breeding humans have odd moods and even desires for specific foods. Is this what is happening here? Does my son”—the pride in his voice stopped my tears—“want these toh may toes?”

  “Yes, no.” I wiped at my wet cheeks. “I don’t know. But I feel like if I don’t save them, I’ll die. It’s so ridiculous.” I was so ridiculous.

  But my master, the admiral of the whole fleet, linked his fingers with mine and led me to the lift then rode down with me and escorted me to the greenhouse. The area was one of my favorites on the entire ship. The lighting imitated sunlight, starlight I supposed. “Arythios…does it have sunlight like Earth?” I asked him as we moved between the various planter beds. “I mean, you are so colorful, and so are the crops you grow here.” I trailed my free hand through the waving rainbow heads of tall grain. They even had simulated wind, for pollination I’d been told.

  “Yes,” he told me, pausing to pick a deep-purple berry, at least it seemed to be a berry, growing on a low bush. Like so many things of Arythian origin, it was larger than those of my home planet, about twice the size of a blackberry. “Taste this, see if it doesn’t put your toh may toes to shame.” Dylos held it to my mouth, and I bit down, my senses immediately overwhelmed by the sharp sweetness, unlike anything I’d ever tasted.

  “Why haven’t I had one of these before? They are like heaven,” I marveled.

  “Well, the truth is,” he said, after savoring the other half of the berry. “They just ripened, and they are so limited, we are saving most for seed. For our new home world.”

  “These are the tyree berries?” I clapped a hand over my mouth. “You shouldn’t have given it to me,” I protested. “They are too precious. Nobody eats them.” As quartermaster, I was tasked with making sure of it, in fact.

  “We won’t have another,” Dylos assured. “At least not until we have thriving bushes laden with their scented beauty on the hills of our new homeland—wherever that might be.” Wherever…

  “Thank you for the gift of the berry.” Yet another way he’d showed me his respect, caring for me. “But as quartermaster, I must caution you not to do it again. Our commander is very strict.”

  The corner of his mouth quirked in a smile. It lit up his face, but his skin tone reflected another emotion entirely. “Yes, Quartermaster, he is strict.” He drew me close, his arms like bands of steel around me. “Would you like me to show you how strict?”

  My breath stalled, but I forced out, “Yes, Master, I believe I would.”

  Dylos lifted me, urging my legs around his waist and took possession of my mouth in a kiss that left no doubt who the master was. Or who might decide to strip me naked and take me right here in the greenhouse area. Where anyone could come. The idea was far less displeasing than I’d ever dreamed. I looped my arms around his neck, giving him my trust, as his hands roamed my body, opening my jumpsuit to free my breasts then squeezing and massaging them. Rubbing his thumbs over my rapidly stiffening nipples.

  I moaned into his mouth, shuddering as he worked his way down my body, awakening every bit of skin he revealed. How could someone from so far away know just how and where to touch me when nobody back home ever had garnered any interest from me. I had never believed in destiny before, but as we flew across the galaxy, I found new proof every day.

  Dylos lifted me higher and was just about to close his lips around my breast when a clatter came from behind us. And apparently, my master was more concerned about the crew seeing me naked now than he had been before because he fastened my suit and turned to face the intruder, tucking me behind him. “Who is it?”

  “Admiral, Quartermaster, I beg pardon. I did not mean to interrupt your…inspection.” The chief gardener was nothing if not discreet.

  I slipped around him, when he did not immediately reply. “Creek, we are here to inspect the bed of Terran vegetables. The sensors reported some issues with the tomatoes in particular. Can you make the necessary corrections?”

  “Of course, Quartermaster.” Creek moved between the beds toward the one with the problem. “In fact, it is already being addressed. Let me show you.”

  Just the scent of the tomato leaves reawakened the craving temporarily derailed by the berries. I felt as if I never ate another tomato I would not survive. But as Creek explained the mineral balance and light adjustment, he felt sure would bring the drooping plants back in line, Dylos stood behind me, not touching but so close I once again had trouble breathing.

  And I knew where my true craving lay.

  Although I still really wanted a tomato.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Dylos

  I stared up at the unfamiliar pattern of stars overhead, but my mind was elsewhere. Beside me, Trreena lay curled against my body, her breathing deep and even.

  I’d had the images loaded just for her. A computer-generated night sky projected on the ceiling of our quarters, the exact duplicate of what she’d seen in her Terran world. I planned it to surprise her, but, instead of being delighted when she saw it, she burst into tears.

  Everything seemed to make her cry. This morning it was a yellow blossom she found broken off one of the to may toe plants. Yesterday, she sobbed when the cook presented her with a basket of ngast chips he’d made just for her. Concerned for her welfare and that of our unborn son, I put Moju to work researching the problem. He assured me it was a common response among pregnant females from her world, and it did not reflect a chronic state of unhappiness. Trreena herself tried to explain the difference between sad tears and happy tears, but they were both colorless wet drops leaking from her eye sockets. Try as I might, I could not distinguish between them.

  Seeing to the happiness of the little human by my side had become my most important task. I’d never thought of myself as a family man. My Arythian mate, Illora, was crushed when we failed to conceive a child, but I was secretly relieved. Back then, I was on the path to becoming a high-ranking officer of the Arythian Starfleet. Males of my race took the responsibility of being a father seriously, and I would have had to sacrifice my career ambitions to live up to that task the way my sense of duty demanded.

  But now? The loss of my own ama, my sister, my mate—and our entire world—had put things in perspective for me. The gods had granted me a second chance. Given me not a breeder but a sweet and kind mate. A partner in life I grew to appreciate more and more every sol unit. Not only did I respect her intelligence, I found her wildly attractive, with a sensual alien beauty that stirred my cockheads even more as pregnancy changed her body. The breasts that had barely filled the palms of my hands were swelling like ripe ranafruit, and the taste of her juices was irresistible. I couldn’t get enough of her.

  And little Dylolo. Though my son was no more than a tiny bump in her belly, the fierce protectiveness I felt, the overwhelming love, came as a shock. Fatherhood no longer seemed like an onerous duty. Instead, it was a gift. Another blessing from the gods. I wasn’t alone anymore. I had a family.

  With that realization, I knew what I must do. I slid out of bed, carefully so as not to disturb her rest, and made my way through the silent halls of my ship.

  “Master?”

  Still drowsy, her voice soft and warm, I heard her as soon as I entered our chambers. She called me by the name I’d demanded on our first night together. Then she’d done it under threat of punishment. Now, it had become her pet name for me. A title she bestowed out of love, not fear.

  I stepped into the room, hands behind my back, unable to hide my grin.

  “I reached for you when I woke up, but you weren’t here. Where were you off to so early?”

  “I was on a very important mission.”

  Her face fell. “Oh. I thought you’d decided to take some time off.”

  “You’re right. I’ve handed over my duties as commander of this ship to Joran. My mission this morning was a purely personal one.” With a flourish, I presented her with the tiny bouquet I’d picked from our garden bay.

  �
��Flowers! Oh, they’re lovely.” Her eyes grew damp. “You’ve never given me flowers before.”

  “They’re tassiflowers.” I waited for recognition to dawn, but she simply buried her nose in the blossoms.

  “I’ve never seen any flowers like these. The petals are fringed, creamy white around the edges, going from soft pink to deep red in the very center.”

  “Yes. Tassiflowers.”

  “Oh!”

  Now, it would come. I nodded expectantly, awaiting her next words.

  “I need to get these in water.” She slipped out of bed and put the bouquet down to don a loose gown. “Thank you so much,” she added.

  “Is that all you’re going to say?” Disappointment made my words come out sharper than I’d intended.

  “Thank you, Master,” she replied, her voice quavering.

  It was still there. In her eyes. In her voice. The flicker of fear.

  I cursed my own stupidity and gathered her into my arms. “I’m sorry, my love. You’ve become so much a part of my life that I forget sometimes you’re not from my world.” I took the flowers from the bed and held them out to her again. “On Arythios, when a male wishes to make a formal proposal, he gives the female a gift bearing the pet name he has chosen for her.”

  “Proposal?” The fear was gone. She merely looked puzzled.

  “I don’t want you only as a breeder. I want us to be a real family. You, me, our son. And perhaps one day a daughter or two. Trreena of the Terran world, the gods have blessed me. They sent you across the cosmos into my arms—and my heart. I present you with these tassiflowers as a symbol of my wish to formalize our union. I will declare before all that I claim you and you alone, forevermore, as my one and true Mate.”

  Moisture began welling in her eyes again, so I went on quickly. “If you accept, you’re supposed to take the gift, then say, ‘I will kneel and declare to all of Arythios that I yield to you and you alone, forevermore, as my Master and my one and true Mate.’”