Training His Human (Zandian Masters 3)

He found Zander in the Great Hall, pacing along the long table. Though the prince did not turn, he knew Zander had heard him enter.

“Free Leora.” Zander’s voice sounded scratchy. “She is no longer a slave. She and Lamira may come and go as they please.”

In actuality, that was impossible. As humans, they couldn’t go free anywhere in Ocretia without being seized. If picked up without a master, they’d certainly be sent to a death pod of their own. Lamira and Leora were stuck with their Zandian masters, whether they called them master or not. But it was the principle that mattered. Zander had seen what Seke had hoped he would see—freedom had to be offered.

“I will tell her, my lord. It is the right decision.”

Zander turned and, in the pale light of the Ocretion moons shining through the windows, he appeared blanched with apprehension. “I cannot allow Lamira to take the young, though.” His voice sounded choked.

Seke’s brows drew together. Did Zander really think Lamira would leave? His beautiful human mate loved him as deeply as he loved her. Not to mention she had no other place to go besides the hijacked death pod.

“She will not leave you, Zander. Is that your fear?”

Zander drew in a long breath. “Yes. But I’m mastering it.”

“Good.” He left the struggling prince to his thoughts, before his own yanked him under.

Leora, free.

Out of his chamber. Out of his life.

Yes, this was for the best. Why, then, did his chest feel like it would explode? He walked swiftly toward the battle arts studio. He needed to move his body, free his mind. He stepped into the quiet studio and lit a flame behind a Zandian crystal, sending the flicker and glow of amber crystal-amplified light through the room. Pressing his palms together at his forehead, he drew his unruly thoughts into the center of his head and contained them.

Blessed quiet expanded out, matching the silence of the room. He rotated slowly, stretching his toes to grip the floor, grounding him. With a sudden, percussive movement, he drew his palms apart and lunged to the side, one palm flexed.

In a silent solo dance, he continued, moving energy through his body and out into space, aligning his body with his mind and spirit. His muscles relished the familiar movement, especially after the tension they’d been carrying since...no. He called his thoughts back to the center of his head.

No thought. Especially not about her.

Rotating slowly, he jabbed and kicked, breathed and aligned. He stayed for hours, not wanting it to end. Not wanting to think.

But Ocretion sunlight filled the studio, and sounds of full activity in the pod came through the walls.

As he ended his practice, he expected clarity of mind. A clear, easy decision. But he hadn’t been able to clear his mind of the presence, the essence of Leora. She filled his senses, even when she wasn’t there.

He shook his head, as if the movement might dislodge her from his brain. He was a warrior. master of arms. He upheld the code of honor Zandian warriors had followed for thousands of solar cycles. When he made a vow, he kept it.

Breaking his vow to Becka’s memory had shown a weakness in his psyche—one he now had the opportunity to correct. With a little space from Leora—some distance, he’d be able to master his weakness.

When he gave Leora her freedom, he’d be free of the constant torment of being near her. He could go to the death pod to train the human troops and not have to suffer seeing her in the corridors or wondering what she was doing.

Resolved, he squared his shoulders and marched back to his chamber.

~.~

Lamira lay curled on the sleepdisk, watching an entertainment hologram. Zander had given her a communication device as a gift after they mated and loaded it with things he thought she’d find interesting—particularly, ancient movies and books from Earth. He’d been delighted when she asked for all the Zandian media he could provide, as well. She wanted to understand the planet and species she’d joined.

The door to their chamber whooshed open, and Zander entered, his muscled warrior’s body graceful for someone so large. For the first time since they’d returned to the palatial pod, he gazed directly at her.

Her heart stuttered. She knew that look, and she didn’t like it. His eyes were shadowed with grief; the set of his mouth said he was deeply troubled. The last time she’d seen that face had been when he’d moved her out of his chamber, believing she was a danger to him because she’d refused to tell him how she knew his life would be in danger.

She scrambled off the sleepdisk and stood, one hand dropping protectively to her thickened belly. “Zander?”

“Lamira.” His voice sounded heavy. Defeated, even.

A tap sounded on the door, and Zander hit the panel to open it, as if expecting visitors. Several pod workers came in carrying tools.

Zander pointed toward the cage he sometimes used to keep her, which hovered a few inches from the ceiling. “Dismantle it and place it in storage.”