“Shelley, you’re on the adventure of a lifetime,” Monica said. “Suck it up and make up your mind to have fun!”
Jasmine rubbed Shelley’s back. “It’s okay, Shelley, I’m a little sad too. And it’s kind of scary knowing we’ll be a million miles from nowhere if something goes wrong.”
Shelley dropped the crust of her English muffin. “Thanks, Jasmine, that makes me feel much better.”
“Actually,” Tiber said as he dipped the fingers he’d been eating with in his water bowl, “with all its redundant protection systems, this ship is safer than anyplace you could be on Earth.”
“See? Relax, you two.” Monica turned to her father eagerly. “So how soon can you engage the flare drives?”
“It will be at least three days before we make our first flare jump,” Cecine replied, tearing a piece of toast into pieces and dipping it in the little bowl of jelly he indulged in most mornings. Shelley had tried it once and didn’t see the attraction. It tasted like hot salted prunes. And semen. Why did all the Garathani food and drink have to taste like semen?
“That long?”
Chewing slowly, he smiled at Monica’s crestfallen expression. “Yes, that long. And as slow as our travel seems now, it’s nothing compared to how slow it will seem once we’re well away from the solar system. When you traverse deep space under conventional propulsion, it feels as though you’re not moving at all because your perspective on distant stars doesn’t change perceptibly.”
Monica sighed. “Well that’s going to be boring.”
“I’m sorry to disappoint you, my daughter, but interstellar travel isn’t a sport for the terminally impatient.”
She rolled her eyes but smiled. “Now he tells me.”
“On the bright side, once we’re clear of major gravitational influences, your mates will have considerably more free time. I suspect we may not see much of you for the next three days,” he added.
To Shelley’s amusement, the unshockable Monica blushed. “Father!”
“Once we reach Garathan,” he continued, “all crew members will take six weeks’ leave in staggered shifts while the Heptoral is refitted.”
And then Monica and Jasmine would both return to Earth with the ship to recruit another batch of candidates. It was a daunting thought. Alone on an alien planet—well, not alone, exactly, but not surrounded by friends and loved ones… Who would she hang out with and talk to when she wasn’t working?
She rolled her eyes. Your kids, single mother. Welcome to the next eighteen years of your life.
“Time for the fifty-million-mile oil change, lube and tire rotation?” Monica asked.
Cecine’s grin mirrored hers. “Precisely. It’s unfortunate your brothers are on Aptorm for several more months. I think Arak and Jax will enjoy you a great deal.”
“Do they know about me?”
“Certainly they know about you. I’ve sent them several hours of video messages describing you in great detail.”
Her eyes sparkled. “Are they scared?”
“They’re…intrigued.” He stood up. “And now if you ladies will excuse me, I must prepare for this morning’s council session.”
“Better you than me,” Monica said.
“Have a nice day, sir,” Jasmine piped up before the door closed behind him.
Hastion jumped to his feet. “Please excuse me,” he said through clenched teeth as he followed the minister into their quarters.
Frowning, Shelley took a pensive sip from her cup.
“Wonder what’s up his butt lately,” Monica murmured.
Shelley choked and tea dribbled out of her nostrils.
Pounding her back, Jasmine said, “Whoa, are you okay?”
Shelley nodded, holding up one hand to halt her as the other covered her mouth and nose. “Wrong pipe,” she wheezed, coughing hard. “Napkin?”
“Been there,” Jasmine said, handing her a paper napkin from the dispenser Monica had somehow acquired while she continued to cough and clear her throat. Holy shit, Monica had an uncanny knack for finding truths without even looking for them. She must have been a whiz at Pin the Tail on the Donkey.
When the spasms finally eased and she’d blown all the residual tea out of her nose, Monica gave her a penetrating look. “All right, let’s have it.”
Shelley looked away, feeling torn. She hadn’t intended to say anything about what she’d seen that night, and not just because she didn’t want to explain what she was doing in the minister’s quarters. What happened between him and Hastion was nobody’s business but their own.
On the other hand, Monica was right—Hastion’s tenseness after all this time seemed out of proportion to the embarrassment he must have felt at literally being caught with his pants down, and she wondered, not for the first time, if Hastion had accepted the minister’s attentions not because he wanted to but because he had to. Even before he noticed her that night, he’d seemed pale and upset.
What if he had to yield to Cecine because of his rank or something? The possibility of sex between Garathani males was such a recent development, there were probably no laws to protect weaker males from the stronger ones. What if, like Earth, Garathan had a history of allowing its leaders to compel the sexual compliance of their subordinates and Hastion had just been the minister’s unlucky pick that night?
“Oh, now you really have to spill it,” Monica said with narrowed eyes. “What’s going on with Hastion?”
Shit! What was she supposed to say? Sorry, Monica, but your father might be fucking Hastion against his will.
Yeah, that would go over well. And surely it couldn’t be true. The minister had been wonderful to her and her family. And he’d arranged for Jasmine and Shauss to be together. And he adored Monica. Hell, he even seemed to adore the twins. Surely a man who adored babies couldn’t do something so awful.
But as much as she wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt, it was possible Minister Cecine was using his power to abuse sweet, beautiful Hastion. She had a responsibility to say something, do something, to ensure he wasn’t.
Shelley licked her lips nervously. “A couple of weeks ago I went to your father’s quarters to thank him for helping my family, and while we were sitting there, Hastion came out of the hallway.”
Monica looked at her blankly. “And?”
“And he was…” she licked her lips again, “…just pulling up his uniform. He had nothing on underneath and his whole package was on display because his zipper was apparently stuck. And all your father had on when he came out was pajama bottoms. He’d just gotten out of the shower and was pulling on a shirt.”
Jasmine and Monica looked at each other and then Jasmine said, “Shelley, Hastion moved into the minister’s suite when he joined his guard. They’re basically roommates.”
Shelley blew out an impatient breath. “The minister didn’t even look at him when he said, ‘I believe I told you not to move, Ensign.’” Her tone dropped in a fair impression of what she’d heard. “There was definitely a postcoital vibe going on there.”
Monica’s lips moved silently. Oh my fucking God.
“That’s exactly what I said.” Right before I gave myself several orgasms fantasizing about it.
God, she hoped the sex between them had been consensual or she’d feel really bad about that.
“Well shit. Hastion would have been perfect for the male-male mating demonstration I’ve been pushing for, but my father…?” Monica shuddered.
“The thing is,” Shelley forged ahead, “Hastion seemed very upset and shaken. Very upset. And shaken.”
Jasmine gasped and leaned toward her. “Oh my Lord,” she whispered, “you think Minister Cecine raped my brother?”
Monica scowled. “No. Fucking. Way.”
“That’s not what I think,” Shelley said carefully. “And I really don’t want to believe he’d do something like that. He’s been totally awesome to me and the twins. It’s just…Hastion is such a nice, easy-going guy and always so ready to
help, I’m afraid he might have trouble saying no even if he wanted to.”
Jasmine looked troubled. “Shauss does think he’s very submissive—maybe even more than I am.”
“And my father is arguably the most dominant male in the galaxy,” Monica said. “It could be a match made in heaven.”
“If they’re both on the same page,” Jasmine qualified.
“Why wouldn’t they be? Have you ever seen my father force someone to do something they don’t want to?”
Jasmine sent her an arch look and Monica scowled again. “That was different. He thought you were in cahoots with Pret. He wouldn’t have let Shauss rape you.”
“Bull. He would have let every male on this ship rape me if it was the only way to get you back. And remember when they found out I was Narthani, or thought I was? He told Shauss to do whatever he wanted with me and then dispose of me however he saw fit.”
Shelley’s eyes widened. “You never told me that!”
“It’s still different!” Monica said, shaking her head. “You’d just admitted to being Narthani. What was he supposed to do after all those millions of people were killed, present you with the key to the ship? And I still think he knew Shauss wouldn’t do anything too bad,” she added.
Jasmine crossed her arms. “Then you don’t know your father or Shauss.”
“My father is not a rapist!” Monica said hotly.
“I’m not saying he is, Monica,” Jasmine replied in a soothing tone. “But Garathani laws and customs are very different from ours, and it’s barely been ten years since their society went through a major upheaval. You know things get a little uncivilized when governments topple overnight and a new leader has to fight to get things under control.”
Monica blew out a breath. “I know.”
“And look at what they had to start from—basically government-sanctioned slavery, and they were the slaves.”
“Which is why I know he wouldn’t do that to Hastion.”
“And I tend to agree.” Jasmine sighed. “I just wish I knew why Hastion doesn’t seem happier about whatever happened.”
The three of them sat there looking at each other until Monica said, “I think we should just wait and see what happens. Let’s keep an eye on him, and if he’s not back to his usual cheerful self within a day or two, one of us should try to discreetly feel him out about it.”
“Shelley, I think it should be you,” Jasmine said quietly. “He seems like he’s kind of been avoiding me lately, and you’re not related to either one of them so you have no vested interest in the outcome of their relationship.”
Shelley nodded. “I’ll talk to him if I get the chance, but maybe you should talk to Tiber too, and find out if he can do a little subtle digging. He is the ship’s shrink.”
“I will.”
“They probably didn’t even have sex,” Monica said. “Maybe they were working out. Or maybe they were sparring and Hastion lost.”
Jasmine shook her head. “You know he doesn’t have that kind of ego.”
“It was sex,” Shelley assured them. “The minister works out in the Command training center, not his quarters.”
Monica raised her brows. “And how would you know that?”
“My quarters are on the Command Deck now, remember? I use the Command training center too.”
“You work out with my father?”
Shelley snorted. “Like I’d let any guy see me working out. I ran into him coming out of there after he’d just finished his workout.” All seven lean, sweaty, mostly naked feet of him.
“Oh my God, you’re drooling,” Monica said abruptly.
A painful blush threatened to blow the top off Shelley’s head. “I am not!”
“Oh yeah? So what was he wearing for this workout?”
“Oh, one of those suits they work out in or something. I really didn’t notice,” she said with an airy wave. Pushing back her chair, she stood up. “It’s probably time for me to get the kids up.”
As Jasmine giggled, Monica pointed at her. “Shelley, sit.”
“I have to go,” she said desperately, her whole body seared with embarrassment.
“Sit. Down.”
Oh hell, there was no getting out of this one.
Hastion followed Cecine into the living area with some trepidation. It had been three weeks since the minister used him so brutally, and while his body had recovered in short order, his mind and emotions were still deeply conflicted. He was ashamed of how much the minister’s forceful attentions had excited him—if it happened again, he might lose control, and while the prospect horrified him, part of him desperately longed for it.
Especially when he saw how much in love Shauss and Tiber were with each other, and with his sister. He was so unbearably lonely, he could hardly stand to spend time with them anymore—watching their affectionate ease with each other only emphasized how distant and impersonal his relationship with the minister remained.
There was some consolation in knowing he might eventually attain that sort of closeness with Shelley, but he couldn’t truly begin to work toward that until she was informed of the truth. It didn’t feel honorable to woo her under a cloud of deception.
Between his confusion over the minister, their ongoing deception of Shelley, his envy of his sister and his isolation from the rest of the crew, he was intolerably stressed. He felt like a carnival performer trying to juggle too many swords—sooner or later he was going to slip up and find himself impaled by one or more, or perhaps all of them.
“Sir, when are you going to inform Shelley of our mating?” he asked without ceremony.
Cecine turned to face him. “I’ve decided to extend the classified status of our bond indefinitely.”
Hastion frowned. “But why, sir? There’s clearly no danger of her trying to escape the ship now. Where would she go?”
“Not that it’s your place to question me,” Cecine said with a dark look, “but she’s already coming around on her own. She did come to Garathan of her own free will, after all, and her attraction to both of us is obvious. I believe she can be persuaded to agree to the bond without having to endure the trauma of being forced.”
“That’s entirely possible, sir, and I’d hope that eventually she would accept it eagerly. But we cannot keep the truth from her forever.”
“I disagree, and the decision is mine, Ensign.”
Hastion ground his teeth. “Yes, sir.”
He left the suite without another word and stalked down the corridor, seething with frustration so profound he wanted to scream with it. Perhaps he should try to talk to Tiber. Surely he understood the importance of trust in a bond, even if the minister didn’t.
His mood soured further when he reached the Command tranlift and found Ensign Mikal standing early guard duty.
“Hastion,” Mikal boomed with a nasty smile, not budging from in front of the door. “It’s been too long since I handed you your ass in the arena.”
Monica would say Mikal was simply talking out his ass, and generally Hastion let it blow past him like so much foul wind. The male was older than he by at least two decades and had the muscles to prove it, but between the ears, he was still an adolescent bully.
“If you say so,” Hastion replied in a bored tone.
“Shall we say three o’clock, in the baya arena?”
“I have late duty.”
“Tomorrow then.”
Hastion’s jaw tightened. “I’ll be there.”
Shelley flopped back into her chair with a groan and leaned forward, burying her face in her hands.
“Jasmine and I happen to know they all work out practically naked,” Monica said in a deceptively casual tone. “They wear this itsy-bitsy thing called a brief to keep their junk from giving them a black eye when they run.”
Even in the midst of extreme mortification, Shelley couldn’t hold back a snort of laughter. “They’re not that big,” she said into her palms.
“Don’t try to distract me. You ha
ve the hots for my father.”
“No, I— Gah!” Shelley let her head drop to the table and covered it with her hands. “It’s just that my hormones are driving me crazy right now, and when…” She bit her bottom lip, drowning in the memories of Hastion’s sculpted torso and free-swinging junk, and Cecine’s lickable, sweat-drenched body, and the delicious tension in the air between them that night.
“And when…?” Jasmine prompted.
Shelley finally looked up. “You know how it is. They’re both so ripped and gorgeous, and when I think about them together, it makes me…” She sighed. “It just really makes me wish I’d packed a vibrator and a two-year supply of batteries.”
“Sorry, we can’t relate to that,” Monica said deadpan.
Jasmine shook her head. “No, not at all.”
Then they both snickered.
Shelley frowned. “What’s so funny?”
“Um, Shauss and Tiber…?” Jasmine said with her brows raised.
“What about them?” Then Shelley gasped. “You mean they…?”
Jasmine nodded, her eyes sparkling. “Just about every day. And they are so hot.”
“They are.”
Shelley gaped at Monica. “How do you know?”
“I got to watch Shauss claim him,” she replied with a superior smirk.
Shelley let her head drop again and then banged it on the table a couple of times. “Oh my God, I hate you both.” She looked up again. “Wait, what about the commander and the cromag. Do they…?”
“Yeah, right,” Monica snorted. “Not in this lifetime.”
Jasmine giggled. “The commander and the cromag. It sounds like a romance title.”
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