by Bex McLynn
"Ass," she said under her breath.
Yet despite how his high-handed entrance irritated her, she felt a fluttering in her belly. She was happy to see him.
"Good morning, Thane." She sighed, slowly getting to her feet.
He looked thrown for a second, as if puzzling through her greeting. Perhaps the Teras didn't exchange niceties like hellos and goodbyes. Although, he always bristled whenever she addressed him.
Seph, resigned to his surprise visit, waved him on through. "Won't you come in, then?"
He hesitated, a suspicious look on his face. Closing his expression, he crossed the threshold like he stormed a gate—just the thane thaning about with stony expressions and one-grunt replies.
For a second, she regretted giving him access to her space. He overwhelmed her. He wasn't an elephant in the room, but a prowling tiger. He was a huge predator, and his visit felt like an invasion.
"I see you come bearing gifts." Once said, she realized how lame she sounded. It didn't matter that he did, indeed, grip the handle of a rather large case.
"I've brought you armor."
"Oh." Her confusion flattened her reply.
"And a WristCune."
Now the WristCune did excite her. "Oh!"
He paused, case poised to open, and arched his brow in reproach.
She knew what she sounded like: a woman who cared more about a fancy gadget than she did her own safety. In her defense, she really, really wanted a WristCune. She'd be able to search the AthNet and get some freaking answers.
He pulled a shiny new WristCune from a compartment within the armor case. "You know how to use this device."
She had gotten used to his mannerisms, always stating and commanding. Never asking or conversing.
"I'll figure it out," she said, her palms itching as she held them out to receive her WristCune.
Eagerly she strapped it onto her arm. For her, the device was the size of a smartphone, while on a Teras wrist it looked like an oversized smartwatch. Immediately she began tapping on the screen, bringing up a menu of options.
The thane watched her progress and grunted. Very well. Then he said, "Put the armor on after you bathe."
She chose to ignore the insult about her hygiene. Instead, she scanned through the entry she pulled up on the AthNet. The thane mumbled something about leaving, but with her eyes locked on the screen, she snagged his arm.
She read the entry about clutch once. Twice. After the third pass, the words just blurred on the screen. Her heart pounded and her skin prickled all over.
She shook the thane's arm in her grasp. "It's a harem!"
Her outrage echoed in the room. She stared wide-eyed at the thane, her chest squeezing in mortification.
The thane arched a brow.
"Harem?" The word sounded guttural coming from the thane. "Human?"
That's all he had to say?
"Harem. Human. Both H words. Harem's a human word for clutch." Although, instead of being a sultan, she'd be a sultana. And Rannik had become her first acquisition. Oh god. Her stomach flipped, in a bad way.
He narrowed his eyes. "So you've done this before."
"What? No." Seph shuddered. "No. I'm a one guy kinda gal."
The thane grunted, as if he doubted her. And she didn't know if he doubted that she had more than one man, or that if she had a man at all.
"One. Man. Only," she said.
"Then Rannik is your second."
"What? No. There is no man. But if there was a man, he'd be the only one." Just like Highlander, there can be only one. Besides, her one and only man right now was Xander.
The implications of the term clutch hit her again. Pissed at his non-reaction, she rattled the thane's arm a second time, really laying into him.
His arm, a stout limb of solid, corded muscle, didn't budge. He just glanced down at her hand clasped onto his forearm like it was a piece of lint. A minor nuisance. Something easily flicked away.
"What the hell, Thane?" she said. "You let me form a clutch with a kid?"
Furious, she shook his arm harder, because, obviously, she wasn't affecting him at all. Not her words or her assault on his person.
"Why would you let me do that? I'm not doing that with Rannik! He didn't take advantage of me when he thought I was a sexbot. I'm not going to do it to him."
"Athela are rare amongst the Teras." As he spoke, he shifted closer. With a small turn of his arm—the arm she clasped—he reached out and wrapped his entire hand around her elbow, locking them together. "It's considered a privilege to clutch with one."
Had his voice gotten deeper? More gravelly?
"But I'm not an Athela."
He nodded his head and hummed. As you've said, but still...
"I'm human, an alien. No one would want to do that with me, because I'm not Teras. Right?"
His eyes glowed as they roved over her face. "You have an otherworldly appeal."
"That whole sefura thing?"
"Masquerading as a Lassie was feasible because men have ordered such custom models in the past." He adjusted his gentle hold on her arm, his many-jointed fingers rippling yet not releasing her. It felt like a caress. "They would be enticed to seek clutch with you."
She felt his voice, down low, right between her legs. Oh god, her pussy clenched when he rumbled 'clutch.'
This was unexpected, and although it didn't feel unwelcome, it definitely seemed implausible. Because there was no way the thane wanted her. Each time he said the word 'clutch,' he spoke with disdain. She read too much into this.
She looked up at him, and for the first time, she saw beyond the distinct Teras features. Heat simmered in his gaze, and his firm lips and strong nose were masculine and rugged. His body was huge, muscled like an athlete who needed both mass and speed in equal measure, not just bulk.
The thane was sexy.
Seph tried to refocus, to pull her thoughts away from the fact that if she raised onto her toes, the thane would still have to dip his head so that their lips could connect.
"I don't want to clutch with anyone." God, she so did not. She had a child waiting for her.
She thought a flash of disappointment crossed his face, but he arched a brow again. She couldn't read the gesture this time. So you say? No matter? What a shame?
"I need to free Rannik from this," she said, looking up into his face. "How do I release him?"
He turned fully toward her, making slight adjustments to his body. His shoulders and neck muscles swelled. He huffed softly, once, through his nostrils.
"Just an announcement," he rumbled, and she felt it in her core.
This needed to stop. She couldn't go weak in the knees and damp in her panties every time the man spoke. He was a gruff, autocratic leader of his house and commander of this ship. The thane spoke all the time, telling her what to do, when do it. Always thaning. This turned her on?
"I think he'll be mad at me," she said. "He already is mad at me. I wanted to repay him."
"Repay him?"
"He purchased me, and he won't get that money back."
The thane shrugged and reached out with his other hand, picked up a coil of her hair, and ran it delicately through his fingers. "He's young. He was deceived. There's value in the learning experience."
"And when he gets older, if he wants to, he can clutch for someone else? This won't hurt his chances, will it?"
Again, another shrug that told her nothing. He just continued to play with her hair, keeping her on edge. Waiting for something.
"Well, is this a common practice?" She felt a blush heat her cheeks. "I mean Athela and clutch. Is this something Teras men do?"
"Common for some."
"Common for you?"
Why on Earth did she just ask that? It was that prying, awkward question she'd ask if she was fishing for a one-night stand. After this mission with Prykimis, did the thane have someone to go home to? If the Teras clutch, did they even marry? Date? Hookup?
Her ill-timed prying br
oke the moment, because the thane stiffened and stepped away from her.
"No," he said. "I do not clutch."
All right. She suspected as much. If he was anything like her, she assumed his responsibilities interfered with such activities. For Seph, raising Xander by herself left little time for dating, or those one-night stands she mostly bungled with her stupid, prying questions.
Yet, his answer still disappointed her.
Her eyes swept over the thane. He was a strong man in his prime, add to that his position as a thane, he probably had no problem scratching an itch without forming commitments. And clutch sounded like a commitment, considering Rannik treated it with such reverence.
At a loss, she lifted her wrist. "Thank you for the WristCune."
He grunted and nodded, his typical reply. You're welcome. Like it would choke him to say so aloud.
"And I'll release Rannik from his obligation as soon as I see him."
"Very good," the thane said. "The Trine will be arriving later today. You'll meet with them."
"All right."
For a second, she thought they would be stuck in an uncomfortable silence. Trapped in the same space without looking at one another or speaking. And she very much wanted to look at him. To look but not touch because she didn't 'do' relationships anymore. Especially not with a man who had people flocking around him, eager to curry favor. A man at the center of attention. A man who was so out of her league.
But the second ended, and the thane said nothing further. He turned abruptly and left her.
Chapter Nine
Seph showered and dressed in the new uniform but skipped the newly-forged armor. Standing in the lav, she stared at her reflection in the mirror.
"You are tenacious, Seph." She made a quick mental note—except with Rannik—before continuing sternly. "A pit bull. Your eye is on the prize. You know what you want. You want answers. You want a spaceship. You want a damn map. And you ain't taking no shit."
The thane's aide informed her an hour ago that the Trine's ship had arrived and to expect the women posthaste. She was dust free and determined.
Her WristCune pinged. Huh, the thane just texted—well, Cuned—her.
Thanemonger (she renamed his contact record): Trine here. Go to Athel Hall. PH.
PH. Posthaste. ASAP did not exist in the Teras jargon.
She stared at the screen and thought-beamed her reply. She thought-beamed really, really hard. Nothing happened. Well, that failure disappointed her. She had hoped she could use her spagery—space magery—on all kinds of tech. The WristCune the thane gave her was lighter and shinier than any gadget she had back on Earth.
She Cuned back: Got it. XOXO
She snickered, wondering what he'd make of hugs and kisses. She selected those characters based on their visual resemblance to x and o, so she may have just sent him a swear word in one of the other Tendex languages. Seph searched the AthNet on her device. Ah, xoxo. She just called him 'old' in Kraai. Well, he deserved that. He was older than her, at least, she thought he was, but that depended on how old she was after—
Seph jolted and shook herself, disrupting the track that her brain train traveled. It did her no good to think too much about what happened during her abduction. To worry about distance traveled and time lost. Xander wasn't her excuse to panic. He was her reason to get shit done.
"Seph." She heard Rannik call out to her. "The Trine awaits in the Athel Hall."
Rannik! She hadn't seen him since last night. She hustled from the lavatory only to find the cabin empty and the hatch leading into the Hall was open.
Teras voices, breathy baritones with a feminine, jazzy timbre, spilled from the Hall and into the cabin. Seph paused for a moment and listened. The women were speaking Terish—the core Teras language that she had started to get a better handle on—and bickering in a rather casual manner, like they knew each other too well and dropped formalities long ago. These ladies were closer to the human meaning of the word clutch—a clutch of clucking hens.
God, a group of ladies. Ever since high school, she had never fared well amongst a tight group of girlfriends. Mean girls was a wholly inadequate term for the bitches she had faced after her brother, Rem, and Xander's father, Thew, had been killed.
But for Rannik, for Xander, she'd do this.
Seph straightened her spine, threw her shoulders back, and strode into the room. She looked about for Rannik, but all she saw were the three women.
And the women saw her.
"[Athela Academe Trine,]" Prykimis said.
"Yep," Seph muttered, still feeling uncertain. "I'm aware."
"Oh! By Direis! She's adorable!"
A woman about Rannik's height descended on her in a fluttery flurry of silky fabric and floral scents. She grasped both of Seph's hands, gently pulling her arms away from her body for inspection.
She switched from Terish to Tender. "Dear, you are just precious. Just look at you."
Seph, flummoxed by the woman, robotically did as ordered, and looked down at herself. She didn't know what the woman was going on about. Seph was five-ten with stretch marks and a soft belly. Perhaps it was the novelty of the Fleet uniform. The other women wore flowing skirts that delicately swept the tops of their shoes.
Even though the sani-stall did wonders on her hair—her coppery curls soft and beautifully coiled without using detangler or cream—she felt frumpy compared to the woman who examined her. After spending so long observing nothing but the Teras men, Seph was fascinated to finally see a woman in the flesh. Somehow the woman managed to be both delicate yet towering. She by no means had the girth of the men, but she stood taller than Seph, perhaps a bit over six feet. Her eyes sparkled more gold than green—more like Rannik's than the thane's or the doctor's—and she had lovely sculpted eyebrows, though the men lacked facial hair. The lady astounded Seph with her glamorous cosmetics, particularly using a foundation that muted the appearance of the praal on her face, yet dusted a bluish powder across her cheeks.
"Oh, Vedma, she is such a find!" the woman gushed. "We're told your name is Seph. I'm Lady Arana from House Conari. Vedma, Hyva, come give your greetings!"
"Ech." The old woman just batted her hand, shooing away the offer. She took a seat at the large banquet table in the room.
The third woman approached, and as she got closer, Seph realized she was a young woman. She wasn't a budding adolescent, like Rannik, but someone freshly bloomed into adulthood. The young woman reminded Seph of a needle, thin and straight and sharp. The young woman looked not at her, but past her, leaving Seph to feel like a thread being passed through the eye.
"I am Hyva of the Trine. No house designation yet. Good greetings to you, Seph." Her voice was exacting, as if saying what was required and nothing further. But she hesitated, then added. "Seph is not a Teras name, although you resemble a sefura. There is a similar Apinazeru word, Sephr, used amongst mated pairs. But the diminutive is Sephrah, not Seph."
Then Hyva clamped her mouth shut. Her eyes trained on Seph, yet still in a way didn't look at her.
All that chatter felt strangely genuine, like Seph had direct access to Hyva's thoughts.
"My full name is Josephine," she said, readily accepting that Hyva was an odd duck, but a good egg. "Seph is the diminutive."
"Shall I call you Josephine?" Hyva tilted her head, causing her thick, straight bob to brush enchantingly along her chin.
Seph felt herself getting a girl crush. It was almost a relief to have someone look at her and have absolutely no reaction—not astonishment or lust or anger. "Call me Seph, please."
"Very well." She abruptly redirected her attention elsewhere.
"Come sit. Come sit." Lady Arana guided her to sit at the table and gave her an encouraging smile. "You probably have so, so many questions, and so do we, but I find it's best to just sit and let things come as they may."
She still struggled with the necessity of introducing herself to the Trine. Even if she decided to master technopathy, wh
y bother? She wouldn't be able to use it back on Earth.
But the thane had a point. As long as she was here, and people regarded her as some type of rarity with coveted abilities, she had to be responsible. Forge connections that could get her home.
"I do have questions," she said. "About clutch and how to make sure I never form one. Ever."
"Ever?" Lady Arana laughed and settled back into her chair. "Clutch is a valuable resource. Remember, the woman chooses. You established your first clutch, and Thane Jahat was powerless to absolve it or infiltrate it without your consent. Athela fought for that privilege, Seph. Don't dismiss it so quickly."
Seph frowned. "Because I'm only here temporarily."
The old woman—Vedma, Seph supposed, since she didn't bother introducing herself—scoffed.
"Clutches are not permanent," Lady Arana said, her voice had a sultry quality. "My dear, I'm a clutch connoisseur. While you are with us, you should reconsider. I'd hate for you to miss out."
"She needs to think with more than just her clutcher, Arana." Vedma pounded both her gnarled fists onto the table.
Seph flinched and yelped, her hands flying to her chest.
"See these rings?" Vedma snarled.
A heavy ring circled each of Vedma's middle fingers. Set in a dark metal were blazing orange stones.
"Oh, by Direis." Arana sighed heavily and patted Seph on her shoulder. "Yes, she sees those ridiculous rings. Only asteroids are smaller, Vedma."
Vedma, nonplussed, said, "They're handed down from Elder to Elder."
Seph, recovering from her jolt, politely said, "Very nice."
Vedma smiled at her hands. It was the first soft look to cross the old crone's face.
"Pretty stones, ain't they?" She tilted her hands, the light catching the stones, setting them aflame. "But they are not the same."
"They're not?" Seph didn't begrudge Vedma; rather she fell into her role, dutifully asking questions so the point could be made. Assuming Vedma had a point to all this. Seph had her doubts. "One is counterfeit? Fake?"