by Renee Rose
Oh, I know all about it. My belly flutters again, a wetness growing between my legs. My face grows warm. I shake my head.
Lily still thinks I’m worried about discipline. She tilts her head. “Oh they’re dominant—you’ll have to follow their rules or suffer the consequences, but sometimes the consequences are worth it.” She grins.
“Well you just have one dominant warrior giving your orders. I’ll have three.”
Her smile stretches wider. “Three warriors to pleasure you at the same time.”
I can’t help but grin at her waggled eyebrows. “It’s like you’re the one who wants three mates. What if I told Rok?”
“Oh, Mother Earth, he’d tie me to the hoverdisk and take his sword belt to my ass if I told him I wanted more mates!” She rolls her eyes at my shocked giggle. “That’s the part of this rehabitation plan that I fear will fail. Zandian warriors are possessive. It’s hard to imagine how they’ll learn share one female. But I suppose if Zander orders it, they’ll follow. They are nothing if not loyal subjects.”
I think about my three mates. They hadn’t appeared to be competing with each other. But they’re cousins. Maybe they’re used to sharing. It’s another point in their favor, not that I’m tallying.
“Just think, you’ll have three warriors utterly devoted to you. Three to take care of you.”
Before now, I’ve never had even one being take care of me. But she’s right. The males did take care of me, even though I had little say in how things went. Just for argument’s sake, I play devil’s advocate. “Three warriors as my slave masters.”
“You’re not a slave anymore,” Lily urges. “I mean, not really. It’s different—you’ll have some choice. You heard what the king said. If they can’t make it work, you can petition for new mates. You’ll see.” Her eyes, when they meet mine, dance with empathy and something else—a confidence.
If she only knew I share her confidence about my mates. It’s whether I’ll be able to keep them as my mates that scares the crap out of me.
I search the crowd for them. I’ve been looking since I arrived, and now I see them, elbowing their way to the front. Ronan looks right at me and gives me the most dazzling smile. Relaxation washes over me, like everything is going to be fine. As his smile turns wicked, the relaxation morphs into arousal.
How can it be these males already trained my body to respond at the sight of them? This morning in the washtube, I thought I should be afraid of Jax, the way he came at me with so much aggression. But instead his passion made me feel powerful. To know that he couldn’t hold back, was too excited to be with me—it awoke parts of me I never knew existed.
I look away quickly. I don’t know if any of those males will be able to keep me, and I don’t want everyone here to see my heart in my eyes. Still I can’t resist shooting one more glance in their direction. This time Tarren looks at me and scowls, but I can still see male interest in his eyes. He’s worried.
My fear ratchets higher.
King Zander is answering questions, but he gives an impatient flick of his hand and the crowd falls silent again. “Those Zandians willing to volunteer, step forward and be counted.”
There’s a great shuffling of bodies and beings. Humans shift to the side where I’m standing, Zandians males move toward the makeshift dais where Zander stands.
My mates are among the first to step forward. Master Seke speaks to them, but without the voice amplifier, I can’t hear what he’s saying.
Lily murmurs, “I heard for the first groups that volunteer, King Zander’s going to waive the DNA testing and let them request a choice, to make the whole thing more appealing.” She reaches out to touch my freshly pierced earlobe. “So that means you’re all set.”
I try to school my face to keep it from showing my extreme relief.
From the looks on the faces of all the Zandians, making mating more appealing is not at all necessary. They seem practically bursting to start the mating process immediately, even before any kind of domes or assignments, judging from the hungry looks on their faces.
“Where are the domes going to be?” I peer into the distance, but nothing is visible but debris, all the way to the horizon.
“I’m not sure, but I think some are far from the capital,” she explains, “in the areas of the planet that have been overmined.”
I feel a pinch of anxiety. What if things go wrong with my mates and I have no friends around to comfort me? No other humans?
But then I catch Jax’s thoughtful gaze. He’s staring across the plaza at me as if he’s deciphering every small emotion bouncing around inside me. As if he plans to alleviate every worry.
“I heard from Thalia there are places on the planet that are still lush and beautiful, with the natural crystals unmined.”
I remember Thalia is one of the few Zandian females. She’d been kidnapped by the Finn and held here before Tomis, her warrior, rescued her.
“Too bad we won’t get sent there.” I try to imagine shimmering crystals, walls and caves of them, crystals sparkling amidst green plants. I don’t miss the slaves on the agrifarm, but I do miss working with plants, and the smell of verdant life. My fingers itch to touch soft leaves again. I cross my arms over my chest as a hot breeze attacks me from all sides. I slide my gaze to my friend. “Will you and Rok homestead, too?”
She shrugs. “I don’t know. I think he wants to. We’ll have to see if King Zander allows it. I know he won’t stand for me being mated to other males, though.”
I almost laugh out loud at the thought. Her male is as dominant and possessive as they come. It probably takes males who have already bonded or are family, like mine, to make this work.
“Eventually, teams will rebuild the cities as well.” Her voice loses some spark as she joins me in searching the horizon. “Although it does seem a monumental task.” She sighs. Then her voice brightens. “But think about how exciting it will be, Riya. We have a planet now. It’s ours.” Her voice is full of pride.
Lily is the one who sold the idea of freedom to the humans on the death pod. She was on it, too, and her mate Rok brought it down with the help of King Zander. I think she’s probably also the one who sold the idea to Rok and Zander to engage humans in the Zandian war effort. Otherwise, we’d all be dead. I’m grateful for her influence. Still, I think she’s overly idealistic or optimistic to call this planet ours.
“It’s the Zandian’s,” I correct her, biting my lip.
“No.” Her voice is fierce. She’s as much a warrior as her mate when she wants to be. I stare at her. “Riya, you heard him. It’s ours. All of ours. Zandian and human together. Our shared DNA will mix and rebuild this world into something powerful and strong, stronger than either of our species were alone. They are in charge, yes, but our DNA is half the story. It’s ours too. And I, for one, am grateful.”
I sure as hell hope she’s right. Even if my DNA won’t be making any personal contributions.
“My nephew is proof, Riya.” She’s referring to little prince Zander. Her voice, softer now, is still firm. “He’s all of our future, yours, too. Soon you will have a child of your own, more than one, and you will know how amazing it feels to know that you are providing life. Not just for this planet rotation, for a thousand eons, star willing.”
My heart swells with untested emotions. As a slave, I was taught that I was inferior, lower, stupid. Good for nothing but breeding to make more slaves. That my human race was annihilated because they were weak, and I was lucky to be alive as a worker. That the future was not mine, and I only existed to serve the superior races on their way to galaxial domination. The idea that me—my DNA, is useful and even powerful? It’s a strange new idea, and it frightens me.
But I can’t participate the way they need me to. I will eventually be found out as useless for the future. I should disclose the truth now. At least to Lily.
Hell, she may not be able to bear young either. She was a sex slave before Rok rescued her. She may have been altere
d not to conceive.
But I see my males looking over at me with—oh stars—is it pride? And I can’t even bring myself to speak the words out loud. I can’t consider the alternative to being their mate. Maybe I could petition to stay on Zandia anyway, devote myself to being a helper in a dome, even if I’m not a mate, but the thought makes me feel dead inside.
Besides, I don’t even know if the Zandians would consider that worth the food and air I’d be consuming, or if they would just send me away? I can’t risk it.
Tarren
We’re queued up in front of Zander to petition for our homestead and I’ve lost sight of Riya. My hands curl into fists at my side. Ronan tosses me a curious glance. I know I’m radiating aggression, but I can’t dial it back.
There’s too much at stake right now. If Zander insists on DNA testing for Riya and matches her with another group, I will vecking kill every member of that group with my bare hands. No beings are going to get between us and our mate.
Even if it means defying my king.
Veck.
Could I do that? I’m not sure. I owe everything to King Zander. His fortitude and determination are the reason we won back our planet and have this opportunity to return home.
Still, my need to have Riya by my side eclipses all else.
We step forward. King Zander has taken a seat where he is listening to the petitions of his subjects one by one.
Jax steps forward first and I’m grateful for my cousin’s silver tongue. His ability to smooth any situation over. “King Zander, my cousins and I have claimed and pierced our mate. We are ready for your assignment to a homestead.” He says it with utter confidence, even though I know he’s as worried as the rest of us. That’s his gift—presenting things in a way that makes beings fall into his plans.
Zander nods. “Who is your mate?”
Jax clears his throat. “Her name is Riya.”
Zander activates his voice amplifier. “Riya.”
I scan the crowd of humans, searching for her. She emerges, face pale and pinched. My fists squeeze tighter. I want to do battle for her. Kill any being who’s ever frightened her, but I can’t comfort her yet. Not until we win this bid for our future.
“Come forward,” orders Zander, and she moves as if traveling through a thick mud. Her every step seems to take forever. No, that must be my perception—I want to get this over with faster.
She turns to look over her shoulder at the human, Lily, who gives her a human gesture I don’t understand. The thumb of one hand is lifted in the air.
Riya looks back at me and touches her earlobe, as if checking to see if the proof of our claiming is still there. The crystals sparkle in the light, sending a surge of possessive pride through me. I lift my chest.
Ours.
She’s ours like no other could ever be.
And no others will ever take her from us.
When she approaches the king, we flank her, Ronan and Jax on either side of her, me behind.
King Zander looks at all of us in that thoughtful way of his. “Riya.”
She curtsies. “My lord.” Her voice wobbles a little. It’s probably her first time meeting the king, which only compounds her stress.
“Have you willingly mated these three males?”
She appears as surprised by the question as we are, but nods without hesitation. “Yes, my lord.”
He lets his gaze travel over each of us again. “And you are all willing to serve Zandia through this rehabitation project? You vow to defend the land, provide your labor toward rebuilding and re-vegetation and remain there for at least five solars, after which the land will belong to you.”
“We do, my lord,” Jax answers. Ronan and I bow our agreement.
He turns to the warrior beside him. “Do we have Riya’s slave data?”
Riya stiffens. I’m not the only one who notices. Jax sends her a speculative look. Ronan catches her hand and squeezes it.
Zander’s assistant shakes his head. “I don’t have it here, my lord. I can locate it and send it to your data cuff.”
Zander waves a dismissive hand. “Send it to her mates when you find it.” He turns to Riya. “What purpose did you serve for the Ocretions?”
She swallows audibly. “I worked on an agrifarm, my lord.”
Zander’s expression brightens. “That will serve your team well. Your skills will be in high demand on the Egantian Mine site. And what were you sentenced to death for?”
Riya shifts on her feet. Her face has gone pale. “I killed a guard, my lord.” Her voice cracks.
I squeeze my fists so hard my knuckles pop. I know, without a shadow of a doubt, if Riya killed someone it was because they forced her to. King Zander seems to know this, too, because he shows no shock or disapproval. “In self-defense?”
“Yes, my lord.” Her lips barely move.
He lifts his fist in our traditional salute. “You depart immediately. You’ll be briefed on the flight. You already know how to construct the dome. Further instructions and expectations will follow. A transport craft is standing by with all your materials and equipment. Please accept my gratitude for helping rebuild Zandia.”
Immediately. I suspect we’re all surprised, but I’m not sorry. The sooner we get settled with our mate on our homestead, the better. I want everything settled and sure.
My cousins and I return the salute and Riya curtsies, although I suspect Ronan’s holding her up because her knees appear wobbly.
As we walk away, my whole body fills with exultation. Yes. We asked for her, and by the stars, she is here. An uncharacteristic smile stretches my face, pinching my healing wound. I assume Ronan also wears his goofy grin, but I only have eyes for Riya.
She looks terrified and relieved, at once. Well, that’s understandable. This is something entirely new for all of us. Although our mating together was phenomenal, forging a lifelong bond is something we will all learn together.
When we reach the edge of the gathering, we stop, and I hold out a hand for Riya. She doesn’t take it, though. She bites her lip. “So what do we do now?” Her voice is low, and despite the obvious joy that flashed on her face when Zander thanks us, she seems scared.
Ronan lifts their twined hands and kisses the back of hers. “Well, I suggest that all four of us mate right here in front of everyone, just to prove we’re a team. You know how that kind of thing always brings a crowd together.”
Her lips part and brows come down, like she’s not sure if he’s serious. Ronan laughs. “I’m teasing you, Riya. Trying to make you smile.”
“You idiot,” I snap, trying not to punch him in the jaw. His joke is as stupid as it is inappropriate. Our mate is scared and requires reassurance. “Riya…”
But then she giggles, the relief on her face is evident. “Very funny.”
I turn away. “Let’s go,” I snap. Part of me is grateful Ronan, always the light-hearted one, made our mate smile in the midst of her unease. I don’t want to be jealous, because that is simply not a useful emotion. But part of me seethes as she continues to grip his hand more tightly when we enter the transport craft.
“Do you have your things prepared? Ours are ready to go, including supplies for the homestead.” Jax touches her arm, and she nods, swallowing hard.
“The few things I have,” she replies with a short nod, staring out the window, before looking back at us. “I don’t come with a large inventory… of items. Just a few articles of clothing.”
Ronan gives her that smile of his, the one that melts hearts around the galaxy. “All we care about is you,” he says, honestly. “We will make what we need on our homestead. Together.”
She twirls a lock of her dark hair around one finger, still nervous. “I suppose that’s true.”
I want to reassure her, but veck if I know what homesteading will be like. All I know is how proud I am that she’s our mate.
4
Tarren
Now that we’re all seated close to each other, I breathe in he
r scent: amazing. A sort of light, floral aroma, something that seems like it would shimmer if it were a color. And underneath that, something musky and pleasant and… aroused? I lean in a little bit to see if I’m right. Veck, she is aroused. I hold back the urge to grab her and take her right there. First we need to get to our homestead.
“Have you been told anything about the planet?” I’m curious to see what kind of information she’s been given; how useful she’ll be from the start.
She blinks, and her eyes—so wide and pretty, make me get hard. “When we were on the training pod, we had some meetings together to learn about Zandian history, biology, and agriculture. Natural resources. Nothing of what we’d do here. Or what would be expected of us.” Color tinges her cheeks.
Is she thinking about what we expect of her… sexually?
Because I sure as hell am.
I fight back a triumphant grin. This little female might be nervous, and has a traumatic past, but she still wants us. This much I can tell.
“And what are your expectations of what your role will be?”
“Well, for me.” She takes a breath. “I imagine I’ll prepare my own meals since you three don’t eat much. I’ll keep our domicile orderly and assist all three of you with tasks as appropriate re-vegetating the land. I’m going to create and tend our garden and be the caretaker for any animals. Will we have domestic beasts?”
I stare at her in surprise. “What for?”
She flushes. “To eat. On the agrifarm we kept many beasts that provided food products.”
I nod. “That sounds like a wonderful idea. I’ll see if we can catch some beasts for you to domesticate.”
Her eyes widen. “Well,” she stammers. “I-I don’t know if I know how to domesticate animals that weren’t born that way, but,” she swallows and nods. “I’m sure we’ll figure it out.”
Damn, our mate is brave.
“I personally plan to cultivate my knowledge of local and imported herbs and botanicals to help create new medicines for humans and Zandians. And of course… young. If, er, when we have young, I’ll take care of them.” She avoids my eye and I notice her fingers are closed in a fist.