His Human Slave (Zandian Masters 1)

“Emotional?”

“Yes. Human females are quite sensitive.”

Veck. “So what do we do about that? Nothing?”

He couldn’t read Daneth’s expression. It had better not be amusement. “I will research now, my lord. I will bring you my recommendations in the morning.”

He blew out his breath. “Fine.” He knew he sounded peevish. He was often curt, but not usually so irritable. He was becoming as prickly as his little slave.

“Do you wish me to give her an analgesic for pain?”

He hesitated. If her only pain was from punishment, she deserved to feel that. On the other hand, if it was from losing her human maidenhead, he ought to soothe that wound. “Yes.”

Daneth produced a needle gun and filled it.

“No.” The terror in her voice struck straight through his chest. She rolled against him, cowering.

It shouldn’t anger him to see her afraid of Daneth. He hadn’t hurt her, at least Zander didn’t believe he had. She was foolish—the needle wouldn’t hurt, and the drug was only meant to ease her pain. But she didn’t trust Daneth. Didn’t trust him, either.

“Never mind. She doesn’t want it. You may go, Daneth.”

“I can take her to sleep in the clinic so the crying doesn’t bother you.”

The offer was tempting. She’d already taken up so much of his day, and now she threatened to ruin his sleep, too. But she’d tensed beside him as if the idea frightened her.

“No. I believe she’s finished. If she continues, I will call you.” He gave her a warning glance and swore he saw answering submission in the lowering of her chin.

Daneth left.

“Lights off.” Zander rolled on his side to face the human.

“Thank you,” she whispered in the dark.

Her human eyes couldn’t see him—she blinked in his general direction, but with an unfocused gaze. His eyes worked fine in the dark. It gave him a chance to study her. She looked sweet. Not like the kind of rebellious human who would take a hunk out of his thumb with her teeth.

“Release my wrists...please, my lord?”

He liked her begging. More than he ought to. His horns roughened. “No.”

She’d be likely to attempt murder during the night.

She must have expected that answer because she didn’t protest. “I need to relieve myself,” she said.

“What does that mean?”

Embarrassment colored her skin. “Empty my bladder.”

It might be a trick to get her hands free. But then again, she had eaten and drunk not long ago. He commanded her wrists cuffs to release and turned on the light. “The washroom is there, the door in the corner. You have thirty seconds.”

She scrambled out of bed and ran to the bathroom door, throwing it open. She didn’t bother turning on the light or shutting the door. He heard the sound of her relieving herself and the flush of the waste. She washed and returned, surprising him by holding her wrists back out. He reattached her cuffs to the head of his bed and brushed a lock of her copper hair from her eyes.

She drew in a ragged breath.

Emotional hurt. What in the galactic kingdom did that mean?

“Was the life I took you from so preferable to this one?” His words sounded bitter to his own ears, as if he’d expected her to thank him for buying her and forcing sex until she bore his offspring.

Her green eyes blinked. She had beautiful, long lashes—black as night. “You took me from my mother—the only person in this galaxy who loves me. The only person I love.”