Kept by the Zandian (Zandian Brides)

by Renee Rose

  The king regards me. “I hope that is true. One planet rotation they may discover what truly happened.”

  I nod. Mother Earth, I hope they don’t.

  “I have discussed your case with my advisors. You will receive temporary, provisional asylum, based on your behavior over the next three lunar cycles. If you pass probation, you will receive full asylum.”

  “Thank you.” I utter the words automatically, then register the “temporary” part. “Excuse me? What? How does it work? My lord,” I add hastily and bow my head. “I am grateful yet don’t understand.”

  “You will be assigned to a temporary guardian. One whom,” and he emphasizes the next part, “will observe and correct your behavior as necessary.” He raises a brow. I think I see the flicker of a smile on his face, but I cannot focus on his expression because all I can think about is the punishment Drayk administered. It was intimate and charged, and I can’t imagine accepting it from any other being. I would hate another master to touch me that way.

  “Your judicial guardian will make a report at the end of your probation period and determine whether or not you pass for asylum.”

  “I… see.” I don’t see. “And am I supposed to, ah…” I wave my hand, feeling dizzy. “Do…”

  The king raises a stern brow. “It is a master and trainee relationship, and that is all.”

  “And may I ask, who will be…”

  My voice trails off as I see him step up.

  Drayk.

  Relief is followed swiftly by arousal. A slow pulse between my legs at the memory of how he touched me there. How he bared me for his correction.

  “Captain.” I speak, and my face grows hot. My nipples tighten. “I—” That is all I can manage at this point.

  King Zander nods at Drayk. “Captain Drayk will be your guardian for the next three lunar cycles, after which your case will be reevaluated. It is incumbent upon you to learn the ways of Zandia and acclimate to our planet.” He looks at me, and his gaze—although stern—is not unkind. “Welcome, Taisha.”

  I wonder whether I should ask to speak to Lamira right now—after all, Leylah made it seem urgent, but based on Drayk’s response on the ship, I decide to wait. Clearly Drayk is suspicious of me, but once he gets to know me and I explain about Leylah’s gifts, he’ll have to understand. I just know it.

  “Be sure to obey Captain Drayk.” King Zander pierces me with his gaze.

  “Yes, my lord. I will,” I hasten to agree, flicking a glance at the imposing captain, his muscles rippling under his crisp white uniform. “I certainly will.” My ass clenches at the thought of more punishment. It’s not an unpleasant thought.

  “If you pass probation, then you will be eligible for mating selection.” King Zander says this as if it’s the most normal thing in the world. “But until then, you will not entertain offers.”

  Behind his back, I see two Zandian warriors eyeing me keenly, looking me up and down, the way one might appraise livestock, or vegetables at a sale stand. I look away wildly, only to see another one with the same expression.

  Drayk steps closer and makes a low growling noise, and my body reacts against my will, my nipples hardening in response to his presence. Mother Earth, the attraction is still there, stronger than ever. But then I notice two other Zandian males murmur to each other and nod at me, as if they wish to take me right now.

  I suck in a breath and inch closer to Drayk. The room starts to whirl. My heart thumps. I know these are Zandians, and they are only looking in a kind of admiration for humans, but I am accustomed to the necessity of hiding my face and skin from the Ocretions to avoid notice.

  Here, with my flowing white gown and bare arms, my form outlined by the diaphanous silk, my curls streaming out like rays of the sun, I am not only on display, I feel like a sun in the center of a solar system.

  It’s too much.

  “Please?” I look up at Drayk.

  He seems to understand, and scoops me up in his arms before I swoon. “Stand aside,” he snaps, and the Zandians part effortlessly. “I must take my charge to her quarters.”

  Chapter 11

  Drayk

  “This is where I live. And you, for the duration of your probation.” I push back my guilt at insisting she required this probationary period. Tell myself it wasn’t for selfish reasons. It’s for the good of Zandia.

  Yeah, right. And the good of my cock.

  I shouldn’t care what she thinks of it—she should be happy she’s here at all. Still, I’m gratified when she smiles.

  “It’s so comfortable.” She reaches out a tentative hand towards a cushion on my hoverdisk—the oval-shaped floating bed in my chamber—then draws it back. “Can I touch… things?”

  She doesn’t realize she’s not a slave anymore. Doesn’t understand how things work on Zandia.

  And I’m an asshole for not wanting to clarify. I vecking love when she calls me Master. That submissive drop of her eyes.

  “You can touch anything you want.” My voice is lower than expected and my face warms, thinking about what she did on the ship. How she touched me and made me explode with passion.

  “I clear my throat. “I mean, regarding the fabrics and textures in this place, of course. And there are foodstuffs that I understand humans enjoy.”

  I step back and point to the storage areas. “You may investigate the nutrition station at your leisure, and part of your protocol here is that you must eat three meals a planet rotation, as that is considered the most healthy thing for humans—”

  She starts laughing, a delightful sound. Like bells, or water.

  I stare, enchanted. “Did I say something humorous?”

  She stops immediately. “It’s just—I must eat three times a planet rotation, as if that were a chore. Do you even understand how we humans would love that…” She trails off, her smile fading. Her eyes go distant, and she looks out the window, but I’d bet any amount of stein she’s not seeing the bustling city center or the hover cars going by.

  She looks at me again, her face somber. “I welcome the chance to eat three meals a planet rotation,” she says formally. “That will absolutely not be a problem.”

  I step closer and touch her arm. “You will never go hungry here, little human.” She lifts those dark eyes to mine and the air charges between us. I drop my hand and step back, clearing my throat. “You will obey all the rules I set out. You will rise and retire for sleep when I schedule you to do so. You will accompany me on city visits and behave in public. As you prove your worth, you will earn more freedoms to interact with other humans.”

  She stiffens and turns away. “I understand,” she offers finally. “May I have my pack?”

  “You mean your poison syringes?” I raise my eyebrows. “No, you may not. That is in safekeeping with Dr. Daneth and his scientists. They will be working on ways to reverse engineer it and understand the chemical makeup. When I deem you a safe risk, you may”—he emphasizes the may—“be allowed to watch and offer help.”

  Taisha

  “My other things in the pack.” My pulse pounds. What has happened to the coin? It was in my pack, and now it’s gone. I’ve lost it. How could Leylah have expected me to keep it on my person through all I’ve encountered? Mother Earth, even if I’d tried to stuff it in a body cavity, stars forbid, they’d have found it during my med exam.

  Leylah’s gone now, and I’m millions of light years away, but I know in my bones that I need to do what she told me. It’s critical—I don’t yet know how, but I sense it. Once again, I get a tiny flicker of light, of voices. I shut my eyes and touch my temple, and it’s gone. Nothing.

  I look back at Drayk.

  “Your pack is in my keeping.” He eyes me. “You may earn it back with good behavior.”

  King Zander said this is a master / trainee relationship only. But I suddenly wonder what Drayk means by good behavior.

  I step closer. “Good behavior?” I lower my voice unintentionally, as I think of the delights of hi
s body. Of mine. I lift my palms to his wide, muscled chest.

  His horns shoot out, twitching in my direction. The irises of his eyes change from brown to a brilliant amethyst.

  He draws in a sharp breath. “Taisha.” He covers my hands with his own, roughly. “I-I can’t. You heard what King Zander said. I should never have taken advantage of you on the ship. I apologize.”

  Oh.

  With apparent effort, he drops his hands and steps back, away from me. “I’m your superior.” He draws his chest up. “I’m responsible for you.”

  “Right.” I try to hide my humiliation, the rejection cutting deeper than I could’ve imagined.

  He tilts his head. “Besides, I’m not sure you’ve told me everything I need to know. That Zandia needs to know.” He frowns. “You’re holding something back, something important. Until you tell me what it is, I won’t be able to fully trust you.”

  “I see.” My voice is dangerously wobbly.

  “I must be impartial.” He sounds almost beseeching. “King Zander is relying on me to do the right thing for all of Zandia.”

  I blink rapidly. So it meant nothing. “As you wish, Master.” I can’t keep a touch of scorn from my voice.

  He hears it and raises his brows. Steps closer. “I will not tolerate insubordination,” his voice is soft and dangerous.

  My body registers his nearness with prickles and heat. My breath catches at the memory of the way he punished me before. The intimacy of the act. How it aroused me.

  I can’t stop myself from pushing him into it again. I want those walls back down. Want to see his hunger again, feel his touch.

  “Stars forbid.” I roll my eyes. “You are clearly a being of import and stature. Everything you say must be listened to with intense concentration and approval, certainly.”

  It’s a dangerous game. I don’t truly wish to enrage him, especially if I am to prove my worthiness to him.

  “Taisha.” He steps right into my space, so close I feel the heat from his body soaking into my skin. He crosses his arms, and my pussy clenches at his expression. The way his muscles ripple.

  I push a little more. “Do you want me to bow? Or curtsy? Please, do teach me the ways of your planet.”

  If my voice was any more insolent, it would strip the paint from the walls.

  “That’s enough.”

  He moves like lightning and grabs me. “Your tone is inappropriate. And I am more than able to teach you to modulate it. Shall I show you how?”

  He started out with irritation. But now that his hands are on me, stars, his voice lowers and gets husky.

  “Yes.” My voice comes out breathy and soft. We stare into each other’s eyes. I love to see the way his irises deepen in hue the more he stares. When I glance up, the horns are thicker too, and although it was only the one time, I smile to myself, knowing exactly what that means. He may claim to feel nothing for me, but his body speaks the truth. “Definitely.”

  He wraps a fist in my hair and gently tugs my head back, exposing my neck. He lowers his lips, and I think he’s going to kiss me there, but instead he murmurs, close to my ear. “Are you mocking me?”

  Tingles of heat flush over my entire body at what’s about to happen. I shake my head. No. Mother Earth, I’m fascinated by his face, his strong jaw, the planes and angles. His lips. Those talented lips...

  “Surely you remember the way I like to punish.”

  My face grows warm. Moisture gathers between my legs.

  He smiles, a dangerous grin. “Ah, so you haven’t forgotten. But perhaps you need a reminder of who is in charge.”

  “Um…” I’m lost in his gaze. Will he kiss me? Any second now. He acted so cold before, but it’s clear that he’s burning up for me just as much as ever.

  He turns me to face the wall and places both my hands on it. “Push your ass out for me, Taisha.”

  That voice. So rough and raw with lust.

  My body answers with complete obedience. I push my hips back.

  He pulls up my skirt and tugs the scrap of my panties up between my buttcheeks.

  I twist to look over my shoulder at him.

  His face is positively feral, like he’s having a hard time controlling himself.

  “Face the wall,” he orders. But his hands are gentle on my hips, and when he lays a palm on my ass—his hand so broad it almost covers both cheeks at once, I gasp at the sensation.

  “Ten.” He lifts his hand and cracks it down across both cheeks. “That’s one.”

  I whimper and squirm at the burn. So good.

  “Stay still. Two.” He slaps me again, but this time his fingers linger on my skin, rubbing softly, taking away some of the sting. “You need to listen to my rules and be respectful.”

  I bite back a moan at the rubbing. When I don’t respond, he grabs a fistful of my hair—not hard, but firmly. “Taisha, do you hear me?”

  “Yes, Master, I hear you. I’ll listen to your rules. Be respectful.”

  “Good. Let’s make sure of it.” He spanks me again. It’s hard and I love it. My body reacts just as on the ship. I soak my panties, which are rubbing against my clit, providing a much-needed friction. I lean into it. Mother Earth, but I like this. I want him to spank me and touch me between my legs, and lick my pussy, and then I want him to—

  “Ow.” The next spank is harder, and I wiggle my ass, mostly because I want more pressure against my clit. I want his fingers there, rubbing harder.

  “Drayk,” I whisper. I stick my ass back, asking for his hand.

  “Veck.” He curses under his breath. “This is… vecking…”

  Then he gives me the rest of the spanks in quick succession.

  He’s panting like he exerted himself, even though I know that’s impossible. I’ve seen his physique. He releases his hold on my panties, much to my disappointment.

  “That’s enough.” His voice is curt.

  He helps me to turn around. His horns are thick and stiff, his face a darker shade of purple. And his eyes! They glow completely amethyst—no trace of brown now at all. “I hope that taught you a lesson.” His voice sounds scratchy and deep.

  He wants me.

  Desperately.

  I can tell.

  I glance down at the bulge at the front of his breeches.

  “I must leave for some business.” Without looking at me, he gathers some items hurriedly. “Eat a meal before I return, and rest. If you have not…” he trails off. “Do not try to leave, because it will be locked.”

  Dumbly, I nod. The pulse between my legs has me buzzing all over.

  Then the door shuts behind him, and he’s gone.

  My ass tingles in a way that would be pleasurable if he’d finished what he started. I walk to the door he left through and lean my head against it, fingers between my legs.

  Damn you, Captain Drayk.

  I shove my hand down the front of my panties and gasp at the wetness between my legs. How swollen the flesh is.

  Remembering the way he touched me last time, I work my fingers, undulating my palm so I hit my clit with the heel of my hand and my entrance with my fingers. All I have to do is think of him.

  My huge, imposing, gruff, gentle giant. What would it be like to be fully claimed by him? To have him thrust his manhood right here, where I’m touching?

  That’s all it takes. I reach a climax, my internal muscles squeezing and pulsing as I pant against the threshold.

  Not nearly as satisfying as when he helped me, but a relief, nonetheless.

  “Well, I suppose it’s better this way,” I muse aloud. Leylah’s face floats in front of me, and I remember what she said: Never surrender myself, or I’ll always be a slave.

  Surely this is what she meant. I must keep myself strong and independent and not allow this being to worm his way into my heart. To care what he thinks or feels for me. After all, how can I carry out her wishes if I’m acting like a besotted pleasure slave, concerned with physical delights?

  I clench my f
ingers, remembering how the coin felt against my skin. “I need to get it back,” I whisper. “I have a mission.”

  My bones seem to vibrate with the desire to meet with Lamira, but at this moment—locked up in Drayk’s chamber—it seems an impossible task.

  I should count my blessings. I’m in a luxurious domicile with orders to do nothing but eat and rest.

  I can lie around and pretend I’m the master for once. I go to the storage units to investigate this so-called nutrition station. If there are foods that I’m required to eat, by all means, I plan to get started at once. Thank Mother Earth for small pleasures.

  Chapter 12

  Drayk

  “How goes the research?” I glance around the lab, which is filled with state-of-the-art equipment that looks complicated and fragile. I keep myself well away from all of it so I don’t brush against anything and create destruction.

  Dr. Daneth comes forward, after wiping his hands on a sani-cloth. “Slow.” His voice is measured and even, but I sense frustration. “The human only gave us a brief overview of how the toxin is created.”

  His mate Bayla adds, “And we do not have all of the required ingredients to recreate it. Nor do we have any Ocretion skin or tissue matter on which to test our samples.”

  “Ah.” I rub my hand over my temples. “Do I need to question her for you? Do you need to question her?” But I scowl at this thought. “She is still fragile—”

  “No. I believe she told us what she remembered. She did not know enough about it, unfortunately.” Dr. Daneth shakes his head. “She said she never created the toxin herself.”

  “Why would the old woman send her out into the universe without the knowledge? Veck.” I furl my brows. “It’s a kind of a waste of information and a vessel.”

  Dr. Daneth picks up a vial and holds it up to the light. It flashes iridescent, but still does not look exactly like the fluid in Taisha’s vials. “We assume she was possibly trying for protection—if the human, Taisha, were captured, she’d never be able to give up the exact formula. But we have enough knowledge to work with it, assuming we can at some point get the venom and fruit extracts we need from Romon-3.”