His Human Vessel (Zandian Masters 5)

Only when she remembered the way he’d taken her—so roughly and yet so tenderly, with so much urgent intensity—did she experience arousal.

Stars, would she ever find another male like that? The idea sickened her. She didn’t want another male. She wanted to be back at the palatial pod, helping Daneth. Serving him. She wanted to be his breeder. To bear his beautiful young. To suckle them, raise them, and help the Zandian species live on with interspecies mixing.

If she were honest, she’d admit she hated it on the training pod. It was clean and well-kept, but a metallic, functional environment. It had none of the luxury and opulence of the palatial pod. The food was horrible. She slept on a cot in the cramped medical unit, which was no worse than what she’d had on the fertility farm, but between Daneth’s sleepdisk and her cage’s pad, she’d been spoiled.

She missed the colors and the amplified light of the palatial pod. She missed Chef Barr and the food.

But, mostly, she missed the sense of belonging. With Daneth, she’d held a power. She knew how to arouse her male, how to satisfy him. She’d enjoyed his desire. His need.

Here, she didn’t feel helpless—not the way she always had on the fertility farm. But she definitely wasn’t needed or powerful, either. She’d been assigned chores and duties, mostly in the medical unit, but it all seemed rather meaningless.

She tucked the loose ends of the bandage into the wrap. “That should do it. Try not to break the wound open. Give it a few days to knit closed.”

Tal stood and smiled down at her. “Why don’t I see you in the sparring ring? Don’t you want to learn to fight?”

She shuddered. “No. Fighting isn’t for me. I’ll leave that to the stronger females, like your sister.”

“What is for you?” His voice had softened, and he reached for her.

She stepped quickly back, stumbling against a metal table. “I-I don’t know. Nursing, I guess.” The emptiness in her stomach twisted into a knot. Nursing was all she had now. But it wasn’t where she belonged. Again, her hand drifted to her belly, as if in memory of the babies she’d grown there.

Was breeding truly her calling?

A wave of nausea passed through her. She’d been queasy off and on for the past week. The nutrition packs on the pod probably didn’t agree with her stomach.

But another thought hit her, causing her to sway on her feet.

Tal caught her elbow. “Are you all right? You look pale.”

She sat down on the cot. “Yes. Yes, I’m all right. Just ready for the next meal, that’s all.”

“Well, come on. I’ll walk you to the mess hall.”

She shook her head. “No, you go on ahead. I need to finish something here.”

He studied her for a moment then nodded. “Want me to bring you a nutrition pack here?”

She stood to prove she was fine. “No, I’ll be right behind you. See you in a bit!” The moment he left, she threw open the cabinets, searching through the supplies. She’d seen a blood test kit somewhere. Or was it a urine test? Yes! She pulled out the urine test. She didn’t know how to read, but they’d used these at the fertility farm. All she had to do was pee on a pad and watch the colors. Pink indicated a female baby. Blue a male. If it remained gray, she wasn’t pregnant.

Her heart tapped a sharp staccato as she shoved the test in her pocket and headed to the washroom. There weren’t many on the pod, and they often had lines of people waiting to use them, but those waiting after her would have to be patient.

Unbelievably, the washroom was empty. Everyone must in the mess hall for dinner. She activated the door, which swished open. Fingers trembling, she unwrapped the test. Yes, it was the same as she’d been given on the fertility farm. She could do this.

She peed on the stick and waited, forcing all conjecture out of her mind. No need to think until she knew for sure.

A long minute passed.

Then another.

She squeezed her eyes closed and forced her mind to stop churning. Either she was, or she wasn’t. She was or she wasn’t.

She was. With a boy.

She disconnected the results from the pee stick, disposing of the stick, and charged out of the washroom, a sheen of tears moistening her eyes.

Daneth’s baby. The thought nearly brought her to her knees with joy. But as she jogged down the corridor, reality sank in.

Where was she running? To call Daneth?