His Human Vessel (Zandian Masters 5)

Damn Lily and her sympathy. The tears brimming in Bayla’s eyes spilled over. She hadn’t been crying over her lost babies, but now that wound opened, too. “I have two out there somewhere.” She shocked herself at sharing something so personal. “One half-breed son born to a wealthy Ocretion. I’ll never see him again. And a human daughter, a slave somewhere.”

“Maybe Lundric could find her,” Cambry offered, shooting a glance at her handsome young mate.

The warrior buried his fingers in her long red mane and appeared to be massaging her scalp. Cambry leaned into his touch.

Bayla’s stomach tightened watching them, loneliness engulfing her.

“We can search the Ocretion databases.” There was a note of caution in Lundric’s voice. “But I don’t have the funds to buy another slave. I spent my life’s savings on your brother.”

Cambry’s face went soft, and she locked eyes with her lover, unspoken messages seeming to transmit between the two of them.

“Don’t ask me, I’ve been broke since I traded our last smuggling shipment for Lily instead of currency,” Rok spoke up.

Lily leaned over and said something in his ear that made him smile.

“Well, the first step is to locate the young. Then we can figure out how to retrieve her,” Lundric said.

She blinked rapidly to hide her tears of gratitude. “You all will really help me find her?” She’d never considered finding her babies possible. Had never dared dream of it, except the occasional sad fantasy that her daughter might end up in the same fertility farm where she worked. Even if that did happen, though, she didn’t know if she’d recognize her. The Ocretions would purposely keep any identifying information from them both.

For some reason, her hand drifted to her abdomen and she rubbed it, as if she still carried her child there.

Perhaps she would survive the heartache of leaving Daneth. She had new friends. They wanted to help her search for her baby. And she a purpose—helping a nearly extinct species. Not in the way they’d wanted her to, but she’d still try to be of use.

~.~

Daneth’s chamber screamed empty. The entire palatial pod echoed with silence, in fact. Or maybe that was his heart. Since Bayla had left and taken his vecking soul with her, the simplest tasks seemed a chore.

At first he’d thought his mood was low because his life’s work and dreams had been dashed, but the longer the hours without Bayla stretched, the more he realized it was her.

He missed her clean, citrusy scent, the pleasure of her plump flesh under his hands, the softness of her skin.

Never in his life had he liked being around other beings—preferring to bury his nose in science, in his studies, but he suddenly hated being alone. He found himself drifting out of his lab and around the pod, yet he met no other being he wished to share his time with.

Every cell in his body seemed to ache for Bayla. Simply living became an agony.

Several times, he considered going after her, but he resisted. She’d asked to leave. She deserved her freedom.

He probably deserved this pain. He hadn’t been kind to her. Hadn’t listened or asked questions. He didn’t know nearly enough about his lovely human. Sure, he had her file. He knew how many pregnancies and live births she’d had. Knew her age and her blood type. Knew her hormone levels. But he hadn’t found out what was in that beautiful mind of hers. That enormous heart.

She’d loved her babies. She must have, or she wouldn’t have found it too painful to have another taken from her.

Why hadn’t he guessed that? Why hadn’t he known what she held in the space behind those beautiful tits of hers?

He’d been selfish. He hadn’t cared, plain and simple. To him, she’d been a vessel. A particularly lovely vessel, but a body he’d purchased for one purpose.

Only now did he wish he’d seen the woman behind the body. And now it was too late.

He went to Zander’s room to check on Lamira, though he already knew from the sensors he’d implanted in her that she’d had no more contractions. He knocked on her door and entered.

She was alone, flipping through holograms on farming. He’d bought her from an agrifarm, and she’d brought her expertise in gardening to the palatial pod, filling the great hall with potted fruits and vegetables. He’d advised Zander to encourage her hobby, as it may benefit their species when they took back Zandia.

“How are you feeling?”

“Fine.” She closed the hologram. “Actually, bored. May I get up now?”

He shook his head regretfully. “No. Bayla was right about bed rest.” It pained him to say her name, and Lamira didn’t miss it.

“You haven’t forgiven her.”