Their Zandian Mate (Zandian Masters 9)

Elit’s face contorted with incredulity. “Why would I do that? You’re my female. They’re our young. And there’s only two Zandian females in the galaxy. I’d be insane to let you go.”

She gritted her teeth. “Three now. And you have to. Swear it, or I’ll tell Zander you were as much a party to Talia’s kidnapping as Sankro and you’ll all rot in here for the rest of your lives!”

Elit narrowed his eyes and considered her for a long moment. “Fine.”

“You’ll renounce all claim on me or the young in front of all and Zander?”

He nodded slowly.

“Swear it.”

He lifted his arm at a ninety-degree angle. “Zandian honor.”

She should have recognized the sardonic tilt of his lips. Later she would review the moment and berate herself for being too quick to accept what she wanted to hear. But Laake was waiting and she needed to get back before he came to check on her. The last thing she needed was Elit to see she had a new male—equate his smell with the ones on her.

“Thank you. I’ll see you up there later today. Tell Banf what we discussed.”

“I will. Take care, Eslyn.” His voice sounded mocking, but she ignored it, her back already turned, strides moving swiftly down the corridor, past the other cells.

“Eslyn!” Sankro shouted as she went by. He tried to reach through the laser to grab her, but it shocked him, throwing him onto his ass on the floor.

Served the asshole right.

She didn’t stop to gloat, though, because Laake appeared at a run, pulling her behind his large body, hand on his sword.

“It’s all right. Let’s go.” She tugged his muscled arm.

He glared at Sankro a moment longer, but when she fled into the lift, he followed, using his palm to activate the door and take them back to the upper level.

She didn’t breathe until they reached it, but her relief was short-lived because Damon stood outside th

e lift, arms folded across his large chest, accusation shooting from his eyes. Behind him lurked Granit, his mottled face tight and pained.

“You took her to the dungeons.” Damon’s voice was low and cool. He spoke to Laake, but his gaze didn’t leave her face.

“She… has feelings for those males,” Laake explained.

No! Veck, no. She’d hoped to clear the lie before it got back to the other males.

If she’d believed their attachment was only physical, her misconception was now clarified by the devastation on both males’ faces.

“I see.” Damon’s expression turned to stone.

“No—I just needed to see them. To know they weren’t mistreated. That’s all.”

“Zandians don’t lie, Eslyn,” Damon minced, taking a step toward her. “It shows a lack of honor. But I suppose being raised away from our kind, you weren’t taught that. It was what we were meant to teach you in your reconditioning.” Misery blanketed his words.

“Are you going to punish me?” She offered it like a gift, remembering how much he’d relished it last time.

But he didn’t seem interested. “We’ll discuss it later.” To Laake, he said, “Take her back to her chamber and leave her there until the hearing.”

Laake’s broad shoulders drooped. He nodded and grasped her elbow, his movements wooden.

Veck. Her plans were going to backfire completely if her new mates didn’t want to claim her because they believed her heart to be already in play.

Granit hated—vecking hated—seeing Eslyn’s mates in the Great Hall. He stood beside Damon and Laake, their female a prisoner between them.

Only two of her former mates had been called up for questioning—Elit and Banf. It seemed Damon’s theory that Zander believed not all three were guilty held true.