His Human Slave (Zandian Masters 1)

He hadn’t risked seeing her—he knew where it would lead. Straight to pushing her down and spreading those long, beautiful legs. Straight to pumping his aching cock inside her tight, wet channel until she screamed and begged for release. Straight to breeding. His body craved her nearly every moment of every planet rotation. But more than the loss of the sex, he missed the sound of her voice, her scent, her lovely face. He missed holding her, the sound of her soft sighs as she slept.

They hadn’t had enough time together. He had barely begun to understand her. Had only seen her smile and laugh a few precious times. Had barely learned who she was—what she liked and didn’t like, what her past held. Why hadn’t he tried to discover these things? He’d been impatient and unkind. He’d thought her beneath him, not worthy of his time. Yet she’d still cared for him. Cared enough to anger him, to goad his worst punishment because she feared for his death.

Perhaps if they’d had more time together before the assassination attempt, he’d understand her better. He’d learn to discern her lies from truth, or to understand why she lied or who she protected. Was it her mother?

He’d demanded an update on the search for her mother daily. Daneth said the Ocretions were pretending they couldn’t locate her, most likely to get more money out of him. “Then pay it,” he’d shouted the last time he asked for an update. He hoped for a clue about Lamira from her mother. But even if she did not provide him with the information he sought, he wanted Lamira to have someone she loved with her. She deserved that. He’d taken her away from her mother and now imprisoned her in his guest room with very little interaction with any other beings. She must be terribly lonely. He’d refused to watch her hologram, but he felt certain she wept there in that room, all alone.

It wasn’t a permanent solution. He knew he needed to make a decision about her. The decision should be to send her away. He could find a decent place for her—maybe even some underground location where humans lived free. Once he reunited her with her mother, he would send them both away.

But why did that decision make his heart ache as if it would cease to beat?

~.~

Lamira thought she would die. She’d been cooped up alone in the beautiful room for eight planet rotations, with no word or sight of Zander. Barr himself had come up a few times to serve her food—at least he missed her. He watched her eat with sad, concerned eyes. He didn’t know what happened, or if he did, he didn’t speak of it, but he kept an upbeat outlook, saying things like, “When the prince lets you out…”

The two servants who had helped her with the garden stopped in, bringing her small plants and showing her holograms of the rest of them.

And since she already felt dead, she considered, at least twenty times every planet rotation, telling Zander she was ready to confess the truth. She’d rather be reported to the Ocretions and executed than have him believe her unworthy of his trust. But her mother...they shared genes. If it was revealed Lamira had aberrant genes, her mother would be executed as well. She had an obligation to keep the secret her mother had worked so hard to help her hide. It wasn’t just about her life.

But Zander’s promise to protect her kept ringing in her ears, too. How tied to the Ocretions was he? He lived here, but his pod consisted almost entirely of Zandians. She had literally not seen an Ocretion since she arrived. Maybe he could protect her if he knew her secret. He owned her, after all. He’d bought and paid for her, fair and square. But could they take her away from him if they knew? In her experience, they could do anything they wanted. And Zander needed asylum here until he won back his own planet. No, it was best to keep her silence, even if it did mean banishment from Zander.

But she couldn’t go on forever, locked in this room. She needed to beg him to let her out, to serve him still as his gardener, at least. He wouldn’t have to see her. He could give her a schedule and she would be sure to never cross paths with him… although the thought made her eyes burn with tears.

She couldn’t go on this way. She needed to make peace with Zander. Somehow.

Chapter 10

Leora blinked as she returned to consciousness. A doctor with purple-hued skin and horns leaned over her, taking her blood. Her body and hair had been cleaned of the agrifarm dirt and she wore a white tunic or gown of some kind.

She licked her dry lips. “Where’s...my daughter?”

She’d seen this same doctor take Lamira away from the agrifarm. It had terrified her. She’d been lucky getting placed in the agrifarm when she was pregnant with Lamira. When Johan, Lamira’s father, had died in the rebellion, she’d managed to remain undetected, her position as a factory worker never questioned. The factory had closed shortly after and she’d been transferred to the agrifarm, where she kept her head down to keep them both safe. The farming required limited interaction with the guard and foremen. They didn’t have to serve anyone, or scrape and grovel, or—worst of all—serve Ocretions sexually. She’d managed to hide Lamira’s beauty and her claircognizance for twenty-two solar cycles there, which had been a miracle in itself.

But then, one day, Lamira had been summoned to the director’s office and this doctor took her away.

The doctor didn’t answer her. In fact, he pretended she wasn’t speaking. Her wrists and ankles were bound to the table, so she couldn’t move.

“Where’s Lamira? What have you done with her?”

Her daughter was nearby. A mother knew. She’d always had a tinge of the intuition Lamira had to hide. Hunches, nudgings. She was certain, now, Lamira was here.

“Please tell me what’s going on.”

This, finally got the doctor’s attention. He met her gaze. “You have been purchased by Prince Zander. I am sure he will tell what your duties are to be.”

A tap sounded on the door, and it slid open. In the doorway stood a massive warrior of the same species. He wore a sword on his belt— a simple weapon for an advanced species. He walked in, his gait more graceful than she expected from a male of his bulk. His eyes swept over her and their gazes locked.

She caught her breath. His irises were blue, rimmed with purple—incredibly beautiful. As she stared into their depths, they darkened to a blue-violet. His horns somehow struck her as masculine and sexy, although she’d never had an affinity for any species besides her own.

The warrior cleared his throat. “Are you finished with her exam?”

“Yes.”

“The prince wishes to question her.”

“Tell him her health is in order—nothing good nutrition won’t fix.” The doctor picked up a bag and fit a tube into it. He shoved the other end into her mouth.

She jerked her head away and something sweet smelling dribbled onto her neck.