V'hor's Nestmate

by Michelle Howard

  V’hor’s Nestmate

  A World Beyond Novel

  By Michelle Howard

  Published by MH Publications

  Copyright © 2019 by Michelle Howard

  Table of Contents

  Copyright Page

  V'hor's Nestmate (A World Beyond, #8)

  Dedication

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Epilogue

  License Notes

  This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. The eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this novel with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this eBook and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please buy an additional copy for each recipient.

  No part of this book may be distributed in any format, in whole or in part without the express written consent of the author.

  Thank you for respecting the author's hard work.

  This is a work of fiction and is not a reflection or representation of any person living or dead. Any similarity is of pure coincidence.

  Dedication

  Always for the readers and fans who love the A World Beyond series and its characters as much as I do. Thank you.

  Prologue

  The room was empty of all its previous occupants save one. The energy and excitement of such a momentous event dimmed. Pride at producing a full clutch faded in lieu of irritation. A violent hissed left Peshla Dahreel’s throat as she gazed at the four newborns wrapped in the gold cloth of the royal line. Everything hinged on making sure no one discovered the truth of her perfidy.

  She glared at the remaining individual in the bedroom with her. The birth assistant cowered on the other side of the ornate cradle with its plush blankets and hand carved etchings.

  “If you speak of this, I will make sure your maternal line ends with you, Adira.” As a threat it was simple, but powerful. Peshla’s authority had grown in the last years.

  The woman, girl really, bowed her dark head and murmured, “Yes, Supreme Matire.”

  Supreme Matire. Peshla straightened her back though it twinged from the remnants of giving birth just hours ago. After meticulous planning and effort, Peshla had attained her ultimate goal—the right of leadership for all of Serpine.

  Each house and the ruling Matires now fell under her command. Her own Matire had given her sound advice as a fledgling female. Accept nothing less than your worth. She’d groomed Peshla for this very day though she hadn’t lived to see it.

  Enemies had been made along the way and disposed of accordingly. It was a small price for securing her line. And secure it she had by giving birth to four children.

  Throughout her carrying, her nestmate had walked with his head held high, preening from the speed at which she’d conceived after their official nesting. C’Ri was a fool, but a rich one with pure royal bloodlines to match her own. Now all she’d worked for might be in jeopardy because of a single foolish miscalculation. The ultimate prize could crumble before her in a wall of shame and humiliation she’d never recover from.

  Peshla’s gaze drifted back toward the infants. Three females and one male. Ire rose like a tidal wave and caused her hands to tremble. “Leave.”

  Adira jerked, vertical brown pupils flickering before she made haste and darted through the door. It closed softly behind her. Trying to calm down, Peshla ran her hand along the fine edge of the cradle, tracing the words which spoke of the lineage for the newly born. A proud lineage.

  The girls slept peacefully, but the boy’s green eyes, a match to her own, were open. Wispy strands of blond hair stood up about his ears as he stared up at Peshla and cooed.

  How could she have been so stupid! The thought renewed her outrage as she considered all of the ramifications of her problem. And yet. She pulled back the gold cloth covering his tiny body and winced as it revealed the proof of her duplicity.

  Reckless! She’d been reckless and lured by the danger emanating from one who showed no respect or concern for her authority. Now this was the price of her betrayal.

  “I see not even childbirth can keep you down, Peshla.”

  She spun around in the direction of the voice. The fine material covering the window on the far side of the room parted to reveal the stranger who’d spoken. Peshla went rigid and stepped away from the cradle.

  “How did you get in here?” Outrage in her words.

  He slid the knitted mask from his face, baring his tanned countenance. His blond hair was in disarray and actual worry flashed briefly in his blue eyes before he blanked them. Smooth lips lacked their usual taunting grin as his tall form strode toward her, then around her rigid body to see into the cradle.

  There was no point in trying to block him. D’Lan was a trained assassin. Probably better than any Serpine male and that was the highest compliment because her people had perfected the art of seamless killing without a trace.

  Against her will, Peshla admired his daring. Not just in standing in her room, but getting to her planet without notice. She was sure the defense system would reflect no evidence of his vessel’s arrival. To get into her home proved a greater display in cunning. Peshla didn’t take her security lightly.

  Instead of responding to her demand, D’Lan glanced at the uncovered child. It only took one look to know what she and the birthing assistant had already realized.

  Pain bit into her palms. Peshla raised her curled fists seeing the dots of blood her nails caused from her violent clenching. Such emotion exposed weakness and Peshla never wanted to be considered weak. She dropped her arms and walked stiffly back toward the cradle, but on the opposite side of D’Lan in order to keep him out of striking distance should he choose.

  “The others?” he asked without looking up.

  Peshla’s nose curled. At least there was one small mercy. “C’Ri’s.”

  The three girls were from her nestmate while she’d apparently conceived the boy from her one night with D’Lan during a diplomatic meeting away from Serpine. If she’d known the possibility of carrying another during the early stages of a current pregnancy, she’d never have taken the chance.

  As if he heard the thought, D’Lan faced her, the half-smile playing about his mouth only hinting at the cruelty he was capable of. How dare he be amused at her predicament! She wished she could rake the smug humor off with a swipe of her nails.

  Peshla controlled the urge. Rumor swirled heavy around the blond assassin and to attack him in the room with the very evidence of her deceit would only be compounding her stupidity.

  Peshla tried not to repeat mistakes. “How did you get in here?”

  She needed the answer to how he’d bypassed her heavily guarded home for future measures.

  “Your security will never be tight enough to keep me away if I choose.” He stretched his arms forth and casually wrapped the baby in the golden cloth. Cloth which had been hand sewn and gifted for each of the babies from another in her matriarchal line—her Matire’s sister.

  “How did you guess?” Even she hadn’t expected this horror.

/>   “I didn’t. I came to congratulate you on the birth of your children.”

  Bitterness coated the statement. D’Lan hadn’t taken it well when he’d discover she was already bonded to another at the time they’d sex shared. He’d wanted more. Revulsion swirled deep in Peshla’s belly. As if she’d give up all she had worked for on a male with nothing.

  Thankfully, his adverse reaction served as a reminder in solidifying her vow to avoid sex sharing with other males in the future. Their sensibilities were so easily offended.

  Admittedly, if she had stayed her original course, she wouldn’t be in this position now. D’Lan lifted the tiny bundle and held him close. Peshla’s heart froze then hammered out a rapid beat. There was no way she’d let him take the child. This...abomination was her first born son despite his physical flaw.

  “His name? Have you chosen one?”

  She had. When she thought she was birthing a son of pure lines. Still, it was too late to change. “V’hor.”

  He quirked a brow. “Bright star.”

  Peshla’s mouth fell open. “You know the Serpine tongue?”

  “You should pay better attention to who you decide to sex share with, Peshla.”

  Staring, she still couldn’t identify one feature of their race. Round eyes instead of diamond pupils, full lips and no extended canines. If Peshla had known he was remotely connected to Serpine, she’d never have let herself share a bed with him. His smirk said he knew what she searched for. Nothing about him appeared Serpine and yet he had to be. It explained why no anomalies had shown in her medical scans while she carried.

  It was a lot to take in and questions needled at her. Questions she didn’t want to have regarding this male.

  “My father was not as careful as he should have been when giving his heart. My Matire was a harsh partner as Serpine females are wont to be. Years later, thanks to the kindness from a former Matire banned from your world, he escaped with me.”

  A blast of fury caught Peshla off guard. The Matire who aided his father should have been punished for stealing a son of Serpine. It was one of their strongest laws. Wanting to say as much, she parted her lips to speak.

  Small sounds of distress came from the baby, interrupting what probably would have been another mistake compounding the one in front of her. Peshla dismissed the explanation of his origins and fought the urge to snatch her child from him.

  D’Lan swayed in place until the baby settled then met her gaze head on with eyes that held a darkness she never wanted to see turned on her again. “What do you plan to do?”

  The same question she had contemplated the moment she’d seen her son’s naked form and heard the birth assistant’s gagging noises. Except now Peshla knew what she’d do. Had to do. “He will be raised along side his clutch siblings.”

  D’Lan arched a brow and snorted, his masculine features expressing doubt. “You will lose your seat as Supreme Matire when the truth is known.”

  Never! “He will be C’Ri’s son as they are C’Ri’s daughters.”

  D’Lan stilled. “And your nestmate is fine with this?”

  Now it was Peshla’s turn to snort, the sound filled with derision. C’Ri did not rule her. He submitted to her leadership as the law required from all males. The problem, however, was greater than whether C’Ri accepted this son not of his blood.

  If anyone found out she’d lain with another, it threatened her role as Supreme Matire. Especially as she’d already been carrying the heirs of her nestmate.

  Peshla could recover from many things and maintain control, but this would create questions about her honor for befouling her filled womb with the seed of another. A mixed breed outsider at that.

  “I will handle C’Ri.” Already she planned ways to hide the evidence so the truth never became public.

  The air around them thickened. Temper sparked in his gaze. “No harm will come to my son under your care or any others, Peshla.”

  The demand inherent in the statement roused her own ire, but she tamped down the emotion to focus on convincing him to her way of thinking.

  “Do not be foolish. The life of a Serpine male comes with harm. As soon as he is old enough, he will train alongside others in the art of assassination.” Her upper lip curled as she flashed her venomous fangs. “He will be more like his blood than even he will ever know.”

  D’Lan flinched from the not so subtle verbal blow, but continued to stare until Peshla faltered. He lowered the baby back into the cradle with a gentleness she wouldn’t have expected from a man who made his living killing. She should have though. During their one night together, he’d touched her with a similar kindness.

  Once he straightened, he stalked toward her. Peshla backed away and tripped over the hem of the strapless birthing gown she wore. She fell back onto her bed among the clean linen Adira had prepared.

  With a shift of his weight forward, D’Lan braced his hands by her head and crouched over her sprawled figure. Surrounded by his heat and imposing frame, Peshla gasped from his dominant posturing. Desire stirred and what should have been abhorrent to her nature was instead arousing.

  He leaned into her, chest to chest. “It is in your best interest to make sure you and your nestmate see to his welfare. If he dies, you die.”

  The words were coldly stated and lacked artifice. From his expression, it was clear he was aware of what she’d considered as a solution. And he was not pleased. Sweat beaded Peshla’s brow, each breath she drew a pant.

  It was the small unexpected pulse of arousal that pushed back her budding terror. Giving in to her desires had led to her current situation. No more. In a harsh whisper, she snapped, “Step away from me. Now!”

  D’Lan straightened and backed off. Relieved, Peshla rose on unsteady legs and glared. Shoving her hands into the deep pockets of the gown hid the trembling of her fingers. “Don’t ever think to threaten me again in my own home.”

  “If I thought it would do any...” D’Lan broke off on a harsh laugh and shook his head. “I’d heard about your ruthless streak. Didn’t expect to cross paths with a Matire, let alone the head of this forsaken world. You had me fooled. Cold hearted...”

  The insult fell before he completed it. His head jerked to the side with a suddenness that had her turning as well.

  Voices carried in the hall. Peshla recognized C’Ri’s distinct booming tones. Guards would be struggling to keep up with his fast pace in his eagerness to greet the children she’d birthed.

  C’Ri may have given up his role in their combative service once he became her nestmate but he kept up with his former training. Peshla tangled her fingers in the material of her inner pockets. If D’Lan’s presence was noted—it was too much to contemplate.

  D’Lan folded his arms over his black clad chest and widened his stance. Satisfaction glimmered in his gaze. “Maybe my warning will go over better with the man himself.”

  “You would ruin me?” He didn’t answer. Her pulse leaped as her nestmate drew near. Peshla flung a hand in the direction of the cradle, hissing. “You will ruin him as well.”

  That got his attention so Peshla continued. “No one off world will accept his Serpine nature. He will be shunned unless he has the backing of a powerful family. Surely you can relate to that.”

  More silence. Appealing to his better nature was a wasted effort. Obviously he didn’t have one. The thump thump of boots approaching was outmatched by her pounding heart rate. The pressure in her chest became near stifling. Peshla swallowed and lowered her pride. “Curse you! What do you want? Anything, if you’ll leave.”

  “Anything?” he repeated with utmost calm.

  “Anything,” she agreed, awaiting an outlandish demand.

  “Don’t reveal me as his father.” Peshla twitched. It wasn’t what she’d expected at all. “Raise him side by side with his sisters as you stated.”

  It went against her nature to cede to a male, but she had already intended to do such. C’Ri was almost upon them. Her room, which he
only visited to sex share, was at the end of the long hall he currently traversed. “Yes. Agreed.”

  “You will protect him? Your promise, Peshla.”

  “Yes, yes, yes!” She snapped.

  The latch on the door clicked. Taking a deep breath, Peshla smoothed her hair down and hurried across the room toward the entrance in hopes of stalling her nestmate with an excuse.

  It opened before she reached it. Frozen, she stared at the distinguished form of C’Ri Dahreel, an eager light in his bright blue gaze and wide smile on his narrow face. The loose flowing blue shirt and hand stitched black pants highlighted his broad physique. He was handsome with an easy going personality. His family traced its lines back to several royal families before Serpine had done away with the monarchy in favor of the Supreme. It was the last that convinced Peshla to select him as worthy.

  “I would see our children, my nestmate.”

  Prepared for anger, the soft inquiry confused her. She spun around. D’Lan was gone, the window closed and the material pulled taut to block the view outside. C’Ri moved to stand next to the cradle. Peshla hurried to his side and grabbed her son in a feigned desire to cuddle. C’Ri’s brows crinkled but he nodded. “A son?”

  “Yes. Three sisters as well. A full and healthy clutch.” She made her voice strong and confident though inside she quivered.

  C’Ri stroked a finger down the cheek of one of the females then another until he’d caressed all three. He came closer to Peshla and she held her breath as he rubbed a finger over the downy layer of hair on the only male child. “They all have your blonde hair, Peshla.”

  Unlike his dark waves.

  “Yes.” Licking her dry lips, she added, “We are in need of rest.”

  C’Ri squeezed her shoulder. “I will have Adira take them to the coche we prepared.”

  “No!” They couldn’t be sent to the nursery where anyone could see. His pleased visage turned to surprise and confusion at the exclamation.

  “I want them near me,” Peshla stated. She’d control the male child’s exposure to others that way.