Her Mate and Master (Zandian Masters 6)

“Peace, warrior. Females. I know—they’re infuriating.”

He drew his fist back once more, but Rok gripped his biceps, pushing his arm down. “Stop denting my vecking pod. If you want her so badly, go after her.”

Right. Simple advice, but sound. He’d go after her. But what then? She had chosen to leave, and he’d promised to let her. What would she think when he showed up ready to drag her back at all costs?

That wouldn’t work. But maybe he could convince her to come. Say the things he should have said before.

“May I take a ship?”

“If you bring it back.”

He whirled, already striding for the dock. “Clear me for takeoff.”

“Feel free to kick my brothers’ asses when you get there.”

“Don’t doubt it,” he called over his shoulder before pushing the door open to the loading chamber. He threw a helmet on his head and stormed out onto the dock. He picked the closest airship and jumped on it, firing up the engines.

Gone. Talia was gone. He’d seen it coming. Veck. He should have prevented it. What an idiot he’d been!

He should have worked harder to disabuse her of the notion he didn’t want her. Didn’t need her. But what if, fundamentally, that wasn’t enough?

He knew she cared for him. Or had that just been her hormones talking? No. She’d sacrificed herself to save his life. She loved him. He knew it.

He lifted off, setting the flight course for Stornig. Why in the hell had Talia chosen to run to the planet where she’d been enslaved? Veck, he would kill her former master if he got his hands on him. Was that why Talia had returned? To demand justice? Why wouldn’t she bring him along to protect her. Didn’t she knew he’d fight any fight for her.

Any fight.

Prickles raced over the skin of his arms.

Veck. He knew what Talia needed.

The answer hit him and, with it, all the life drained from his body. He had to choose her above duty. Above his species, his prince. Above honor. He had to be willing to fight for her, for them. Against his mentor and ruler, if he had to.

Was he willing to be Talia’s warrior instead of Prince Zander’s?

Hell, yes.

Because the alternative—losing her—was unthinkable. He couldn’t live knowing he’d hurt her. Let her down. Abandoned her to the authority of anyone else.

She belonged to him. Hadn’t she surrendered to him? Allowed him to master her—begged him to?

Yes. She was worth it.

He requested permission to land on Stornig. The air border guards charged him three steins just to land and another four to park his ship, but he didn’t bother to bargain them down.

Stornig was a poor planet, known for shady dealings, swindling, smuggling, and underground business dealings of every kind. Captain Rok, along with his brothers Jano and Jasu, had been smugglers based on Stornig before being recruited by Prince Zander. Their adventures led them to be some of the best—and most wanted—pilots in the galaxy.

He leaped out of the craft, paid the fees, and asked for directions to the Three Pits Tavern, which he gleaned was the center of seedy business transactions.

Was this where Talia had grown up? The thought made him want to throat-punch the first Stornigian he saw. He restrained his fury, though, intent on only one thing—convincing Talia he was her mate.

On the way, Jano and Jaso passed him, skirting wide to avoid contact. He shouted a few obscenities and hurled a couple stones, but they weren’t worth any diversion of his attention.

Inside the Three Pits, he scanned the tavern. Beings of every species jammed the dingy place, crowding the bar, standing around tables, spilling out onto an outdoor deck area. It smelled of stale brew and body odor.

An old, harried-looking Stornigian served drinks behind the bar. One of his eyes was swollen closed, and his lip was cut and bleeding. Beside him—oh stars!—stood Talia, coolly serving drinks, a smock tied over her white Zandian flight uniform. He’d loved her naked, and half-clothed in his shirt, but somehow she appeared even more delectable in the fitted suit, the fabric molding to her curves, setting them off in a way that made him want to hide her from the view of every other male in the place. She moved with efficiency and skill only the most experienced bartender possessed.

His heart thundered. It took all his willpower not to storm behind the bar, snatch her up, and carry her out of there. That wouldn’t do any good, though.