His Human Vessel (Zandian Masters 5)

Lamira rubbed her belly. “I didn’t drink the tea.”

Bayla’s body jerked in shock. The blood drained from her face.

“What tea?” Zander asked.

“I knew it would harm the baby.”

Icicles formed on all Bayla’s limbs.

“What would harm the baby?” Zander thundered, sitting up.

Daneth, too, turned his full attention on her, advancing slowly.

She took a step backward, eyes filling with tears. “I’m sorry. I did a horrible thing and”—she choked on her own spit— “I can’t take it back.” Tears spilled down her cheeks. “I wish I could.”

“What horrible thing?” Daneth’s voice was barely more than a whisper. She turned her focus to Daneth. “I’m sorry. I drank a tea so the pregnancy wouldn’t take. I didn’t want to have another infant taken from my arms. It hurt too much.”

Daneth turned a ghostly white.

Prince Zander climbed off the bed, but Daneth blocked him from coming toward her.

“She’s mine,” he bit out, though horror, fury, and disgust warred on his expression. “I’ll deal with her.”

“Did you offer the tea to Lamira?” The prince’s voice was deadly.

She shook her head quickly. “Never. Of course not. Barr brought it to her, but I ran here as quickly as I could and drank it before she did.”

Zander pursed his lips, dark musing in his violet eyes.

“Go to my chamber.” Daneth’s voice couldn’t sound more cold.

She didn’t wait to be told twice, practically running out the door and bumping into Lily on her way. She couldn’t stop the tears skidding down her cheeks as she raced back to Daneth’s chamber.

~.~

Daneth saw through room through a haze of red. Betrayal coated his insides, hot and thick. Sticky and grotesque. He wanted to empty the contents of his stomach.

“If you’ll excuse me,” he said stiffly to the prince and Lamira.

“Yes, I doubt you’re much good to us now, anyway,” Zander muttered.

“I’ll be back.” He wasn’t sure how he was able to speak when his lips had frozen.

He didn’t remember how he got back to his chamber.

Bayla sat on his sleepdisk, twisting her fingers in her lap.

“Clothing off.”

She moved quickly to obey, jumping to her feet and pulling the dress over her head.

Somehow, the exquisite perfection of her body only taunted him now. His cock still responded, despite what she’d done, and it made him all the angrier. Such a beautiful, agreeable package. And yet so flawed. She’d ruined everything—everything. His life’s work, down the drain. The continuation of the Zandian species—over. But somehow the worst of all was her. What she’d done to him. The way his insides felt pulled out, tied in a knot, and shoved down his throat. The way he didn’t know whether to throw her out or lock her up or just shake her until her teeth rattled. The sticky confusion inside him that screamed for him to distance himself before it was too late—and it was already too late—and to simultaneously dig in deeper with Bayla. To punish her. To turn her as inside out as she’d turned him. He selected a heavy wooden paddle from the implement box.

“Bend over the side of the sleepdisk.”

Bayla’s eyes pleaded for mercy, but she didn’t argue or attempt to explain herself. She leaned over the edge of the sleepdisk, presenting her shapely ass for his punishment. Already, his handprints from earlier had faded.

Capturing her wrists, he pulled them up above her head. “Keep these here. If you reach back, or change position, you’ll earn an additional punishment. Understand?”