Training His Human (Zandian Masters 3)

“He’s protective of you,” Lamira observed.

A trickle of warmth swirled in her chest. “Yes.” He always had been, though. On that first planet rotation when Daneth had brought her to the pod, Seke had defended her against Daneth’s probing, soothing her with a form of chivalry she’d believed long dead in their culture.

Of course, the Zandians weren’t part of their culture. Their species may live on Ocretia, but they lived by a code far different.

Lamira grabbed her hand and tugged her toward a sitting area with a small hover table for two. “It’s not been too horrible, then?”

Her face grew warm. She perched on a hover chair across from Lamira, who pushed a pouch of juice toward her. “Some parts, horrible. Some parts…”

Wonderful.

Did she really think so? Yes. Seke had offered her something she’d never experienced before—such pleasure, such...wonder. With him, she’d discovered the paradox of finding strength within surrender. She’d learned to trust a being other than Lamira, and had her trust rewarded. But more than that—Seke truly saw her. He looked into her very being and understood her, perhaps better, even, than she understood herself. And despite all the humiliating and painful things he’d done to her, there had always been an underlying respect and care.

She didn’t want her training to be over. Being with Seke had become an addiction. She craved his touch, his attention, his nearness at all times. He occupied her every thought. She wanted more of him.

“He won’t have sex with me,” she blurted.

Lamira’s eyebrows shot up, and she choked on the juice she’d been sucking from a long tube. “Why not?”

“He’s been mated. Remember? You told me once you thought he lost a wife and child.”

Lamira nodded. “I remember. I had a flash of it when I first met him. An infant.”

“It was actually three young. He carries enormous guilt because he saved Zander instead of them.”

Her daughter’s eyes rounded with the same sympathy she experienced for Seke.

“I believe his sense of honor made him choose his duty to the throne over love.”

“Sweet Mother Earth. That’s a terrible thing to live with.”

“I know.”

“No wonder he never smiles. But what does that have to do with having sex with you?”

She frowned. “He told me he was bound to another. He meant his dead mate. It’s another honor thing— I don’t know. Maybe a Zandian custom. Don’t they mate for life?”

Lamira tapped her lips. “Yes, but wouldn’t for life mean until one of them dies? If she’s dead, can’t he mate another?”

She shrugged, her chest a hollow locker, empty for Seke. “Apparently not. He seemed sorry about it but told me he couldn’t be with me. And I know he wants me.” She hadn’t expected it to be so easy to talk to her daughter about sex.

A tap sounded on the door and Barr, Zander’s amiable chef, entered carrying a tray of fragrant food. “Master Seke told me you two might like to share a meal,” the elderly Zandian said with a bow.

They both beamed at him. “Thank you so much, Barr,” Lamira said. “That was thoughtful of both of you.”

He lifted the lid from the dish to reveal a beautiful savory pie of some sort. “It’s egg and vegetables. An ancient recipe from Earth. It’s called quiche. Should be very nourishing for the young.”

Everyone in the palatial pod doted on Lamira as the carrier of Zander’s young. Both Daneth and Barr constantly researched human nutrition and sought traditional foods to strengthen her constitution.

Lamira touched his arm. “Thank you. Truly, Barr. It looks and smells delicious. I can’t wait to try it.”

Skin blushing lavender, Barr bowed several times and backed out the door.

Leora served Lamira a piece of the quiche and took a slice for herself. Even though she’d grown Earth-based produce on the agrifarm, they hadn’t had access to the fresh food, relying on tasteless, packaged nutrition packs provided by their masters. Here, everything she ate burst with flavor. The love with which Barr prepared their food, combined with Zander’s access to high quality meat and produce, meant they sampled the finest foods available in the galaxy. Eating had become a nearly euphoric experience. She took a bite of the egg dish, trying to dissect the various flavors. A light, flaky crust, rich, creamy middle with some kind of herb to enhance the flavor of the vegetables. A layer of thinly sliced nutmeat covered the top. “Mmm,” she said, her eyes rolling back in her head. “So good.”

“It’s better with company,” Lamira said, a note of despondency at her confinement in her voice.

She reached out and squeezed her daughter’s hand. “Tell me about Zander. He hasn’t forgiven you, has he?”