by Chloe Cox
She’d watched as Kragen had shrugged off the last of those chains as though they were useless toys, and the knowledge that he had the power to dominate not just her, but every single Leonid in this room, made her insane. Andie let her eyes drift down, to a drop of sweat glistening on his warm, silvery skin, and she shook with the effort of holding back. All she wanted to do was lick it off.
All she wanted was to feel his weight on top of her. Between her legs. Inside her.
No. He won’t claim you. That’s not where this is going.
Andie shook her head, as though she could clear those thoughts, like her brain was some kind of etch-a-sketch. Kragen had said, over and over again, that he would not claim her, because he was a condemned Leonid. It didn’t matter what Andie wanted—he had made the decision. And she needed to remember that.
Of course, if her plan worked, he wouldn’t be condemned anymore.
In fact, for her plan to really work, it would be better if he claimed her…
NO.
Andie forced herself to look up into his eyes. She didn’t want him like that. She didn’t want Kragen to claim her because it made strategic sense, or because his queen told him to, or because it would be better for the Leonids. She didn’t want to be bound to him for life for any other reason than that he wanted her. And she wasn’t going to set herself up for heartbreak like that.
“We have to go see the queen,” she said again.
Kragen grunted. There was still a shimmering protective shield around them both. Still a bunch of Leonid warriors watching their every move, while the Prince of all Leonids waited for them. Kragen didn’t seem to care. And for a moment, she thought…
“You are right,” he said, finally. “I promised.”
Andie swallowed. If he could be strong, she could be strong. She wouldn’t touch him again—unless she had to.
“Prince Rhazian,” Kragen shouted, without breaking his gaze. “Are they disarmed?”
“You heard Commander Kragen,” the prince bellowed. “You will disarm. Any of you that thinks I cannot handle the commander of my own guard, I’ll challenge you myself.”
With a resentful clatter, a bunch of swords and stuff hit the ground. Andie looked up—the phase rifles were still on the ceiling.
With a subtle pop, the shimmering shield that surrounded them disappeared. Andie blinked. It was like the pressure changed.
And then, suddenly, Prince Rhazian was standing next to them. Andie gulped. The prince was the only Leonid she had met, besides maybe Rune, who could hold a candle to Kragen. He was about the same height—so, huge—and with the same muscular build. The prince’s battle scars showed silver against his deeply purple skin, matching his silver eyes and silver hair. He was the only male who didn’t seem palpably wary of Kragen.
“It is good to see you, Kragen,” the prince said.
Even Kragen seemed surprised by that. But it was someone else’s reaction that got Andie’s attention. The purple-eyed Leonid who Kragen had called Centurion, and who Kragen had so easily dominated, seemed to be sputtering with rage behind the prince.
“Are you sure, Your Highness?” Kragen said, and for the first time he seemed…droll?
He clearly knew the prince.
The prince confirmed it with a laugh.
“We have much to discuss, Kragen,” the prince said. “Your methods are unorthodox, but you are not the only Leonid who sees the need for change. Now, are you going to introduce me to your mate?”
Kragen pulled Andie into his protective orbit once again, and she heard the snarl he just managed to repress. For a second, she felt high on his attention. Then he spoke.
“She is unclaimed,” Kragen said, perhaps too forcefully.
“My name,” Andie said, “is Andromeda Knowles.”
She kept her voice cold, but she wished she had the strength to step away from Kragen. One second, he was her protective mate, and she felt on the verge of a different future. The next…
Well, the next she was just this unclaimed human female who had business with the queen.
The prince looked from her to Kragen and back again, and Andie found that she wished she could read him.
And then, suddenly, the prince bowed low.
“It is an honor to meet you, Andromeda Knowles,” he said solemnly. “And it is an honor to escort you to meet my mother. Will you please follow me?”
“Uh…” Andie said, in total shock. “Sure?”
The prince turned, only to run into the vile Centurion who had, Andie remembered, called her “nothing.”
“With apologies, Your Highness,” the Centurion said, “there is construction in the main cargo corridor. We will need to take an alternate route.”
“Fine,” the prince said. “So long as we leave now. The queen will not want to be kept waiting for this.”
Andie didn’t like the smile she saw play across the Centurion’s lips as he nodded, turning on his heel to lead them in a slightly different direction. But the prince followed, and Kragen was ever present by her side, practically hulking over her. That dumb Centurion could lead them through a fire swamp and Andie would still probably be the safest female in the galaxy.
So why were the hairs on the back of her neck standing up?
“Remember to stay close,” Kragen said, low enough so that only she could hear him.
“No problem there,” she said. “Two minutes ago, these guys were shooting at you.”
Kragen shrugged. “I might have killed their commander. That was understandable.”
Yeah, she had some things to learn about Leonids. Which wasn’t exactly making her feel better about where this Centurion doofus was leading them. They were in a smaller group now, only about ten Leonids, including Kragen, Prince Rhazian, and the Centurion, and they had crossed the cavernous cargo bay to a smaller airlock. As they approached, the red light above clicked on, and the doors slid open, revealing a small, dark tunnel that set off a whole bunch of Andie’s horror-movie alarm bells.
It looked like it was normally used as a service tunnel. As they crossed the threshold into the dim lighting, Andie couldn’t stop her thoughts from churning. Specifically, her thoughts about Leonids, and their hunger. Because if there were humans on Earth who hated the idea of humans and Leonids mating, maybe there were Leonids who would rather feed on humans than mate with them.
That thought was not comforting.
“Hey Kragen,” Andie whispered. “What did you mean before, ‘not all Leonids can be trusted’?”
Kragen’s molten eyes darted down to her before resuming their vigilant stare.
“You have Humans First,” he said. “We have Draconids.”
“So not all Leonids approve of the idea of mating with humans?”
“No,” Kragen said, and pulled her even closer. “And they believe that I am a traitor.”
Andie had way more questions, but she didn’t get to ask any of them.
Because at that moment, the world exploded into violence.
Everything slowed down.
There was a blast of light and heat as the wall to the tunnel in front of them blew inward, raining metal and dust on the small party of Leonids. As Andie fell to her knees behind Kragen, nestled against the wall, she somehow had time to wonder what was happening, and how many of their escort had been hurt.
And then, even as more Leonids poured into the tunnel from the hole in the wall, and more came up behind them through the tunnel entrance, she had time to watch as those members of their escort turned on the prince, and then Kragen.
This is an ambush, she thought. We are going to die.
She should have known that was dumb. Because she had Kragen.
With a deafening roar, Kragen turned and unleashed a white hot beam of silvery light from his hand, and the Leonids who had been advancing on them from the tunnel’s entrance to the cargo bay suddenly…
Disappeared.
There was smoke, dust, the last remnants of light. And that was all
.
Holy shit.
Was he always like this? Or was there something different now, with the bond all screwed up and teased within an inch of its life? Could all Leonids do things like that? Was—
And then it hit her.
A rush of arousal, so strong that she fell to her knees. Andie looked up helplessly at Kragen as he fought off the attackers, her heart hammering against her chest, her pulse thudding between her legs. She cried out, her hands reaching for his legs all on their own, and for a moment he looked down.
He felt it, too.
And then there was another blast, and Kragen warded it off with nothing but a wave of his hand. The release of energy sent another wave of pleasure surging through Andie, this one so powerful that it came with a sensation of pain. She literally ached for him. For a moment, the only thing she could feel was the absence where Kragen’s cock should be.
She moaned.
Something was happening with the bond. Whatever this was, it was giving Kragen superpowers. Andie looked back to her left, towards the direction they’d been moving when they were ambushed, and wondered why Kragen just didn’t make everyone on that side of the tunnel disappear, too. The answer was right in front of her: Prince Rhazian.
The prince himself was deep in the fighting, and he looked almost as impressive as Kragen. There was a pile of Leonid bodies around him, and he moved easily, with the same athleticism as Kragen. But as Andie watched, one of the fallen Leonids behind the prince got to his feet, brandishing a blade.
Andie didn’t even have time to call out.
It was Kragen who saved the prince. With another furious roar, Kragen reached out his hand, and the Leonid with the blade flew straight backwards through the air until the back of his neck made contact with Kragen’s hand. With another roar, Kragen smashed the would-be assassin into the wall with a sickening snap.
Andie knew, somewhere, that she should be nauseated by the violence, but it was like her body was not her own. The bond beat inside her body like a second heartbeat, making her aware of one thing and one thing only: Kragen.
No. Pay attention.
She saw Prince Rhazian look briefly over his shoulder and nod his thanks before turning to the last remaining assassin. With an easy grace, the prince disarmed the lesser Leonid, then brought him to his knees.
“And now you will talk,” the prince growled.
The battle was over. They were safe.
Except Kragen was still defying the laws of physics.
He stood over Andie, where she literally clung to his legs. Andie stared at her hands in wonder—she had reached for him, needing to touch him, in the middle of a literal battle. And the feeling hadn’t gone away.
It wasn’t just a feeling. It was a need. It was, in that moment, her entire existence.
Andie needed Kragen. She needed him to dominate her. She needed to submit. She needed him inside her more than she needed her next breath, and she was done caring about the consequences.
“Kragen,” she whispered, and her hand slid up his leg all on its own.
Kragen answered with a growl, his hand finding hers. There was a flash of bright white light as his bare skin touched hers, a timeless moment that stretched forever in the space of a second. Then he pulled her up to her feet and slammed her into the wall of the tunnel, and suddenly it was just the two of them, alone. The rest of the world could burn.
Kragen’s eyes glowed white-hot, so hot the light coming from them was transparent. She could see his eyes clear as day as they raked her up and down with his gaze. Every where he looked he left a trail of fire on her body, and her hips began to move all on their own, her ass pressing into the wall behind her, her nipples hardening as her breasts began to ache.
Kragen advanced on her, growling, looking as animal as she felt. Andie stood still, but she was practically vibrating in place. She couldn’t tear her gaze away from his, and she didn’t want to. The bond between them felt like a real, tangible thing, like she could reach out and touch it, strum it, bring them both to the most shattering orgasms of their lives with just a few touches of her fingers.
She wanted to scream with a triumphant, carnal joy, because this, this, finally made sense. Her whole world distilled down to this moment, this bond, this male in front of her. For the first time in her life, Andromeda Knowles was completely certain about what she wanted. What she needed. And she needed Kragen ka Anok. She needed him to take her, to dominate her, to make her his. Because then he would be hers. Forever.
He stood before her, covered in sweat, breathing hard, the kravok radiating off of him, and Andie knew she could bring him down with just a word. If she said it, he would take her. Right here, right now. And there would be no going back.
Kragen inhaled deeply, his eyes flaring with desire as he did so. He was scenting her.
She realized she could smell him. He smelled like male, and sex. And home.
And then suddenly her hands were pinned above her head in one massive hand, and Kragen’s huge, muscled body was inches from hers, his warm lips on her forehead. His fangs grazed her skin as he dipped down, and she craned her neck, wanting to feel him there again. She felt his lip curl as his fangs extended, and she arched herself into him as he ran his free hand down the length of her body, squeezing and toying with her everywhere and anywhere he felt like. Andie realized he already owned her, and she let out a feral moan as the dull ache between her legs grew into a driving, pulsing need.
Kragen snarled as he pushed his hand between her legs, feeling the wetness coming through her useless panties.
“Yooouuu willlll beeggg,” he growled.
Andie felt a gush of heat between her legs, and knew she would, at his command, submit. It didn’t matter that they were in a tunnel, it didn’t matter that they weren’t alone. Nothing else mattered.
But some part of her was thinking she’d heard that tone of voice before.
He sounds like Rune…
But she never got to find out what happened next. Because the next voice she heard wasn’t human, either. It was a voice used to being obeyed, like the prince’s, but more complicated. More nuanced.
More female.
And it cut through the haze of the fever with all the psychic power of a ruling Leonid.
“I will have order,” the queen said from somewhere behind Kragen. “Now.”
27
Kragen seethed with effort. It felt like he was straining against his own skin as he fought to contain the fire of the hunger within. A few of the Royal Guard—his former comrades—and approached with more shackles back in the tunnel, and he had merely snarled at them. He was done with useless toys. He was done with pretense.
His whole world had shrunk to a single point of awareness: Andromeda. He felt her, near him. He felt every breath, every heartbeat. He felt that she was ready for mating.
Fight it.
He had fought it all the way to the royal chambers, which was now the most secure place on the ship. The Royal Guard had arrived with the queen just after he and Prince Rhazian had finished dispatching the would-be assassins, and they were now fanning out through the ship, rounding up any confederates. The remaining members of the separatist Draconid faction, who had always opposed mating with humans, would pay dearly for a mistake of this nature. Killing Kragen would have been one thing, but an attack on the prince was something else entirely.
And an attack on Kragen’s mate was a death sentence.
Separating from Andromeda, after he had pinned her to the wall and felt her need, felt her heat, had nearly killed him. Only the queen’s voice had cut through the haze of the hunger, reminding him of his responsibilities. Reminding him of his vow.
Andromeda would not be harmed.
Nothing had changed. He could not claim her without hurting her.
So he fought.
That did not mean he would win. The remaining members of the Royal Guard all watched their former commander with a wary eye. Only Queen Vana and Andromeda h
erself were unafraid.
“Is the ship secure?” Prince Rhazian asked. He was standing, not quite at ease, next to his mother’s informal throne. This was the reception room to the royal chambers, large enough for certain formal ceremonies.
“Nearly.” It was Lieutenant Dreker who now commanded the guard. Kragen approved of the choice. “We will keep the ship on alert for another twenty-four hours, but the immediate danger is passed. We will find the people responsible for this, Your Highness.”
Prince Rhazian was still obviously furious. Kragen did not care. That was no longer his business. He was watching the queen—who was watching Andromeda.
“Your Majesty,” Kragen said.
All eyes turned to him. Some weapons, too. Stupid. They would be useless against him in this state.
The queen’s gaze turned on him, and Kragen was, momentarily, grateful. She had been queen his entire life, and she was very powerful. It had been her voice that had brought him back from the edge. He had been so close to breaking. To giving in to the hunger that burned in his veins. He would have claimed Andromeda in that ruined tunnel, poured his seed into her and watched it change her, and then he would have destroyed everything he ever loved to protect her.
But in the past few days by Andromeda’s side, Kragen had learned that life was not as simple as the hunger made it seem. The hunger was a remnant from an older time, a simpler time. It had nothing to say about the complexities of protecting a mate who had a previous life, who had a home, who had a family, all of whom would be hurt by choices he made.
So Kragen looked his queen in the eye and told the truth, through the haze of the hunger.
“I did what I did because I believed it to be the right thing to do, and I still do,” Kragen said. “That is my only justification. I have no defense, and I know the punishment.”
The queen seemed to smile, slightly.
“That is not much of an argument, Commander,” she said.
“I am not here to argue,” Kragen said, and growled slightly as he felt another urge rise in his chest. Andromeda was standing so close to him. He did not look at her, for fear of losing control. But he could smell her. “I am here because she has something to say. And you will all listen.”