by Zoe Blake
It looked magnificent and utterly immense. ”How big is this ship?"
He rubbed his chin. "It's the size of your state of Pennsylvania. The best comparison I can give you."
That knocked the air right of her chest. "Pennsylvania?"
"Yes. A few of the ships are bigger. The largest is double the size of the Raplan-B.” Arten turned back to her, studying her. "What should I call you? Other than Drace's mate?"
"Sorry! I'm Rachel. Please call me that. Not the other thing." She stuck out a hand, inwardly cursing her lack of manners. He took her hand after staring at it for a moment, as if he had no idea what to do with it. Maybe he didn't. Maybe they didn't shake hands here.
"Very well, Rachel it is." He stepped back and made a slight but formal bow. "Welcome to base ship Raplan-B. We are honored to have you and hope you find happiness here."
"Oh." She blinked at his statement. "Thanks, but I'm not sure I'm––"
"Arten," Drace's deep voice sounded behind them. "It is good to see you."
"And you, brother." Arten turned and clasped forearms with Drace, and then pulled him into a hug. "I'm glad you're back. I've no taste for command."
Drace grimaced. "No sane person does. But the Raplan is intact. You couldn't have done that badly."
Arten rolled his eyes. "I much prefer my diplomatic role."
"I suspect those skills will be needed sooner than we expected." Drace's jaw tightened. "Have you been in contact with Harc?”
"Yes, but we'll discuss that with the representatives of all the classes." Arten gave Rachel a critical look. "Drace, your ma–– I mean, Rachel needs to be settled in and could do with a meal, I'm thinking."
Rachel wanted to know what was going on, but she was starting to sway on her feet. "I'm starving."
Arten beckoned to someone across the room with a curt hand motion.
Drace frowned at her. "I asked if you wanted something to eat on the shuttle."
Seriously? "I was a little overwhelmed. People don't eat when they're traumatized."
"Traumatized?" He raised a brow. "I saved your life. If you want to see traumatizing––"
"Now, now, lovers." Arten’s smile was tight. "One should never argue until properly fed and rested. Rachel, someone who is eager to meet you is coming and will help you get settled." He gave her an apologetic look. “My brother always was a grumpy traveler.”
Drace scowled at his brother and turned to speak with a contingent of uniformed officers. Rachel stood by in awkward silence while they spoke in Baylan. Well that was fine. Just fine. Never in her life had she felt so out of place, so out of step with her surroundings. Never in her life did she long for Nebraska and Gram’s sunny kitchen more than she did now.
Tears pricked the corners of her eyes. She turned blindly away, to the stunning artificial landscape stretching out beyond her. People walked stone paths. Children ran in the grass. Maybe a quarter mile away a market of sorts stood with rows of brightly colored stalls. Long pennants waved in a breeze that brought the smells of cooking food to her nostrils. It was an appealing scene. Nearby there was laughter. Many people made their way toward Drace, smiling and hurrying, clearly ecstatic to see him. When he turned away from Arten and raised a hand, they let out cheers and greetings. These people looked happy. They also looked human, which was as unsettling as it was a relief.
Then they seemed to notice her. She felt the press of hundreds of gazes on her as they roared a cheer. She nervously edged backwards and smacked into Drace's wide chest. His hands closed around her waist. Delicious ripples raced low in her belly. She leaned into his solid warmth and tried not to think about how their bodies clicked together, no matter what position they were in.
"Wave to them," he murmured. "News has spread that the Saar-king has brought home his mate. They wish to welcome you."
Her heart began to race. She raised her hand, uncertain. Many in the gathering crowd raised theirs in return greeting.
“Smile, Rachel." His voice purred at her ear. "Or else the people will think their Yana-queen isn't happy to be here."
He’d used the term before, but she’d felt too scattered to question it. “What is a Yana-queen? Is that what they think I am?"
Arten held up a finger. "If I may, we don't have an equivalent English word for the...partner of the ship ruler. She––or he––has authority and responsibility, but doesn't rule like the monarchs of old on Earth. She can help command a ship if her talents lie in that direction. Many Yana-queens focus on the people, on keeping our society running smoothly."
“That’s”—holy wow, she was a freaking office assistant, not the leader of a society—“a big responsibility. I'm not qualified for any of that."
Arten laughed. "A ship commander's partner is his or her equal, so you are capable of anything he is. In my brother's absence, I have been acting as both commander, Saar-king, and inter-ship diplomat." His mouth quirked in a rueful grin. "It's a bit much. So I'm glad you're here. That is, if you—” Arten cut himself off with a click of his tongue. "Well, I'm sure you two will figure everything out."
She was not so sure about that.
Drace's hands tightened briefly on her waist before he released her. His fingers pressed against her lower back as he led her away from the curious onlookers. "We should let them get back to their duties and––ah, there she is now."
Rachel followed his gaze and saw a pale-haired woman walking toward them. She shimmered in a flowing bronze bodysuit with a blue sash at the waist. Delicate soul markings on her shoulders, collarbones, and down her left arm only enhanced her ethereal elegance. Her beauty made Rachel's jaw drop, as did the exuberant hug and smacking kiss the woman gave Drace. She cupped his face in her hands and said something to him in Baylan. Since stepping foot on this ship, never more than right now did Rachel wish she could understand the language.
Drace was genuinely delighted to see her. His eyes lit up, and he let loose that devastating full smile of his. He was gorgeous with any expression, but that smile...ah, it turned Rachel's legs to pudding. But at the moment, that smile was for another woman. Her pulse raced. Her hands formed fists––oh hell, she was jealous. It took her by surprise, but here she was, getting hotter in the cheeks by the moment.
Just as she got her reactions under control, the woman turned from Drace and bestowed a radiant smile on her. That smile seemed familiar.
"I'm Kana," the woman said. "Drace and Arten's mother. It's so wonderful to meet you. You must be Rachel.”
"I am. Nice to meet you." She would not forget her manners this time. “I’m sorry...you’re their mother?" Rachel returned her quick, bright embrace. "You don't look much older than me."
"Ah, I like you already." Kana chuckled. "Baylans age much slower than humans. Our bodies don't change much after we reach adulthood."
"Wow. I mean, okay." Rachel shook her head in amazement. Aside from a few lines fanning the sides of her eyes, Kana's skin was smooth, and her body appeared firm, but there was a wisdom to her gaze. Something about the set of her mouth indicated this woman had vast life experience.
Kana chuckled. "You must be so overwhelmed. Let me take you to your rooms. Drace has a lot of catching up to do. We're so glad he's home and safe."
Kana chatted as they walked down twisting corridors, rode lifts, and crossed bridges. Everything was clean and spacious, as if the builders of this ship intentionally designed the different areas to feel wide open and unconfined. The older woman pointed things out, told stories, and generally filled the silence that would otherwise be there because Rachel's head was in such turmoil that she couldn’t hold an intelligent conversation. By the time they stopped in front of a pair of unmarked doors, she was utterly lost. She couldn't have found her way back to the grassy park for anything. She cocked her head at the door. There were no handles. How did one open it? How could she get out? And could she contact Drace if she needed him?
"Place your hand on the door and hold it there. It will register your hand
print and only allow access to you and those you allow. Drace, of course, has access."
Of course. "You know about him and me..."
Kana held up a hand, long-fingered like Drace’s but slender and graceful. "Drace communicated to me during your journey what is going on between you, and before you say anything else, let me say, I understand." She smiled, gently. "I was once in your shoes, too."
Rachel's eyes all but bugged out of her head. "You were from Earth?"
"Yes, about two hundred years ago."
"Two hundred years?" Rachel said. "Drace didn't tell me."
Kana laughed. "He wouldn’t, of course. My decision was not as hard as yours. My life on Earth was hard. My mate, Lasiter, who regrettably could not get away from his duties to greet you this day, offered me the choice of going with him or staying where I was, barely surviving as a servant in the American colonies. It was an easy choice, but I understand why it's not so easy for you."
Rachel swallowed with effort. “I–I don’t know what to think. Thank you for understanding. Drace doesn’t.”
“My son’s responsibilities are vast, and he can’t always see past them.” Kana rested a hand on Rachel's shoulder. “You'll help him to see. For now, eat. There's a meal set out for you in your quarters. Shower and put on fresh clothes. Rest. First, you must restore your body and mind. Whatever decision you make, Drace will always love you, and you will always love him." She tilted her head, sending her blonde hair tumbling over her shoulder. "That doesn't mean you are damned to misery should you choose to leave him. However, you will never know love like the love of your true mate."
Rachel felt her eyes go wide––deer-in-the-headlights wide––and her heart trip over itself. “Oh, no. We never talked about love."
"Talking is not usually the way Baylans discuss love." She gave Rachel a knowing wink that brought fresh flames to her cheeks. "No matter what happens, I'm grateful that my son found you. So many here never find their partner. Many go their whole lives without meeting the one they were meant to be with." With that wistfully delivered insight, Kana turned and left, leaving behind the comforting aromas of vanilla and lavender.
Rachel sighed as she watched Kana walk away. Her ass wouldn't look that good in twenty years, let alone two hundred. Jesus, alien semen did freaking amazing things to the human female body. She placed her hand on the door as Kana had instructed and waited until the door went warm and she heard a slight click. The door pushed open easily to reveal a sumptuous splendor that made her apartment back home look like a woodshed. The room was in an open plan, but loosely divided into a living area and a sleeping area. The massive bed was an inviting mass of blues and creams, piled high with pillows. The sitting area contained low-slung sofas in a bright array of golds, reds and greens. Plump cushions encircled a low table laden with platters of food. Beyond that, a translucent door led to the bath, she assumed. Everything beckoned, but the sight of food made her forget everything else.
Rachel sat at the table. Nothing looked familiar, but the smells made her salivate. After sampling almost everything she devoured the dishes she really liked. Next she headed for the shower. This, at least, was similar to hers. Aside from a few more options on the dial, she could close her eyes and pretend she was back home. That maybe Drace was hanging in the living room and they were a regular couple on Earth. But the instant she stepped from the stall and a whirlwind of gently scented warm air enveloped her and dried her, the fantasy fell away. This was a spaceship, and she was a long way from home.
When she left the bathroom, she found Drace sitting on the couch, his head resting against the pillows and his eyes closed. Rachel held closed the neck of the flowing robe she'd found in the bathroom and tiptoed toward him. In sleep, his face was relaxed. He looked impossibly young like this, even though he had to be quite a bit older than her. Definitely older than the thirty-ish she'd originally assumed. Rachel perched on the edge of the sofa cushion beside him and watched his chest rise and fall and the slight twitch of his eyelids.
On impulse, she let her fingertips caress his brow. His eyes snapped open at the slight touch. His hand flashed out and grabbed her wrist.
Rachel sucked in a breath. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to––"
"Never apologize for touching me." Drace jerked her to him, holding her close. "I've been starving for your touch. For you."
Her body melted against his. His head bent and his lips came to hers. He kissed her with what seemed a sigh of relief. Wide hands smoothed down her back, over her legs, and back up under the silky robe. She didn't resist. Her body had been craving his touch, as well. And his possession. She kissed him back, opening her lips, meeting the thrusts of his tongue with hers. He groaned and pulled her tighter against him. All the hard angles, the muscled planes of his body molded against her. This man was an addiction. Everything about him was pure pleasure to the senses. He was her fit—no way could she deny it.
Her mind wandered to a scenario of what it might be like remaining here with him. Allowing whatever changes would happen to her body to happen. Having his children. Becoming one of these people and living far past normal human years. The idea sent a strange warmth through her body, like a home fire, stoked low and warm. A part of her yearned to give it a try. Maybe she would find something else to do—something meaningful. But staying with Drace wasn't like moving to another state, or even another country. And accepting a place in Baylan society wasn’t a coat one could try on and discard if it didn’t fit.
If news of the Baylans’ arrival on Earth got out to the American public, there would be a war, as the Dept. 6 agent who attacked her at the lake said, or at least aggression on the part of the humans. Rachel would be on the enemy’s side. And worse, she’d be abandoning her gram. If she stayed here, she’d forever be an alien in an unfamiliar culture, unable to return to her own. Cut off from her only family.
Drace's hands skimmed over her ribs to her breasts. He squeezed gently, palms gliding over her hyper-sensitive nipples. Arching into his touch like a cat, she lightly ran her nails over his back. He groaned against her neck, easing her down onto her back. Her robe fell away. He unfastened his suit and pulled it off. The scar on his abdomen was a light, white trace on his skin, nearly invisible. Rachel traced a finger down it, then continued farther to grasp the thick, engorged organ standing at attention. He murmured, gripped her hips, and jerked her toward him. Soft, fragrant pillows cushioned her from beneath and hard, aroused man pressed down from above.
"I want you, Rachel," he rasped against her skin. He let out a guttural noise and slipped a hand down her belly, her hips to the aching center between her thighs. His skilled fingers were soon slippery with her wetness, driving her to madness. "Say you want me, too."
Her heart beat faster. Her breathing grew ragged. In his arms, under his spell, there was no resistance. Only this overwhelming need, this passion that obliterated all else. Logic, rational thoughts––reduced to rubble under the power of his touch on her skin. The power of the bond they shared. "Yes," she breathed. "I want you inside me, Drace. One more time."
With one quick move, he scooped her up and carried her to the bed. He dropped her on cool sheets and covered her with his body. He smelled of musk and man and a hint of the forest they'd just been in. It was intoxicating. One hand shackled both of hers. The other grasped his shaft and held it at her opening.
"One more time won't be enough." He teased her swollen pussy with the head of his cock. "You'll never stop wanting this. Neither will I."
Rachel did not want this to be the last time. The thought of never feeling his brand of exquisite pleasure was unthinkable, but to bind herself to an alien... "I want you now, Drace."
He caught her mouth in a mind-melting kiss, swirling his tongue around hers in a sensual dance. "You will choose me, Rachel." He pushed forward, sheathed himself in her tight heat. "You'll never be satisfied with another."
She arched as her needy body accepted him deep inside her. He began moving inside
her when pleasure exploded in a shattering orgasm. She gasped as wave after wave of ecstasy rolled through her. Sensation pulsed in time with his steady thrusts. She cried out, teeth clenched as her body sang with pleasure. She was alive. So gloriously, exquisitely alive. Even as the orgasm subsided, he pinned her with his powerful body and changed the rhythm. Need built again. His body possessed her, controlled her completely. She sighed into his strength and locked her legs around his hips, slipping into a rhythm that was theirs alone.
They came together, a scream from her lips, a growl from his, but she was not sated. She wanted more of him. She wanted more of herself. When he roped an arm around her waist and pulled her close, she didn't resist. His breathing evened and quieted––likely the first deep sleep he'd had in a long time. From where she lay, she could see out the round window, to the blue and green planet swirling below them. She fell asleep with tears on her cheeks and a sob tucked deep in her throat.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
"Wake up, brother."
The lights went from dim to blazing. Hurried footsteps sounded on the carpet.
Drace unwound himself from his mate and sat up, stretching. "Arten, I didn't give you the passcode to my chamber so you could barge in––"
"The Veska-3 is visible and in range."
Drace was sure his heart stopped for a moment. He didn't need Arten to explain further. "Visible and in range,” meant one thing––Harc Lassen-Roi, Saar-king of the Veska-3, had put his massive base ship inside Earth's atmosphere and allowed it to be seen. A flurry of thoughts rushed through his head. He leaped out of bed stark naked and furious. "Fucking son of a bitch. He was supposed to consult with all the Saar-kings and the elder advisors. Our father would never have approved this.”
Arten folded his arms. Drace’s normally pleasant mannered brother wore a dark scowl. "Apparently he thought consultation with himself was enough."