Water covered their waists, their chests. She held her breath as the level rose above her head, then reversed direction and drained. A light, citrusy oil sprayed, coating her body.
“Damon, you asshole!” Laake shouted.
Damon laughed.
“What?” She had no idea what had happened.
“Now I’m going to smell like a female.” Ah. The oil.
“Nah, you’ll just smell like you’ve been vecking a female, which you have,” Damon replied. Warm air blew across their bodies, drying their skin and hair. The door slid open and Damon stood there, smirking. “My turn.”
Granit beckoned her to him in the bedchamber. He dressed her in her clothes, like a doll or a small child. Her eyes smarted. After so many hard years roughing it, being taken care of, there in the lap of luxury, was divine. “Go and rest. Laake will get you something to drink.” He gave her ass a light slap.
But the door buzzed and a hologram of her children, accompanied by a human female hovered above it. Her stomach seized in knots. Here they were—the beings who meant the most to her. Would her new masters let her see them?
“Laake—my young. May I please—” But before she even finished the question, Granit strode past her and pressed his hand against the panel.
The door slid open and Alyx and Ren tumbled in, tugging their wailing three-cycle-old sister, Teena, between them.
“Mama!” the tot wailed, running into her arms.
As if on cue, Sol fussed in his hovering cradle. Laake went to attend to him.
“Forgive me.” The pregnant human—Bayla, if she remembered right from when she’d picked up the children that morning—remained in the doorway. “She was fine all morning, but now she seems overtired. Do Zandian young nap? I know you require less sleep than my kind.”
Eslyn swayed, soothing the weeping child. “Yes, yes, my youngest two still do.”
“I think she also just missed you. And it’s all so new here. All the young must be overstimulated.”
Damon strode forward, magnificently taking charge, as always.
Veck. Would he demand the children leave?
“It’s all right, Bayla. We’ll take the young now. Thank you.”
Thank the one true Zandian star.
Bayla dropped a curtsy. “Just let me know if you want me to come back and get them again later. There are at least thirty beings on the pod who are waiting for their turn to entertain our little guests.” She winked.
“Thank you.” Damon smiled at the dark-haired young human, whose belly swelled beyond her breasts in front.
A stab of irrational jealousy ran through her. She had no claim on Damon, but she wanted to call the female back and tell her to stay the veck away from her males.
The door swished closed. “I’m sorry.” Eslyn split a gaze between Damon and Laake, who’d picked Sol out of his bed.
Damon touched her back, his warm hand stroking soothingly. “Don’t apologize. We’re probably all due a nap,” he said. “Let’s go into their room.”
“I don’t nap,” Alyx asserted.
She stiffened, trying to warn him with a look. He should know better than to protest anything these males told them.
But Damon only quirked a brow. “No? I’ll make you a deal. If you’re really quiet and let your sisters nap, I’ll take you to see a real battleship when they wake up. What’s your name?”
“Alyx.”
“Alyx, how old are you?”
Alyx looked to her. He didn’t know how old he was—it wasn’t something anyone but she had tracked back on Zandia.