His Human Possession (Zandian Masters 8)

“No.”

Daneth shrugged, but didn’t argue further because his mate came to stand by his side.

“Hi, I’m Bayla,” the female offered Leti with a soft, friendly tone. “I hadn’t heard of your arrival.”

“I just arrived.” Leti lifted her chin at him. “He stole me from the Emperor of Jujo.” She hesitated a moment, then added, her voice softer and a little uneven, "He...rescued me, that is." She looked at Paal for a moment, and her expression was something he'd never seen on her — almost worried, perhaps? But before he could analyze it, her typical haughty, strong expression was back.

“Ah. Lucky you. Zandians make great masters.”

He stiffened. Hearing females discuss his gender in generalities set his teeth on edge. Too much like his mother.

Bayla went on, chattering as she wiped an antibiotic cleanser over Leti’s feet. “They seem to find human females pleasing once they get used to us.” She winked. “Sounds like you already have this one halfway to a piercing ceremony.”

His stomach knotted.

No.

No vecking way.

He would not be the prize won by these scheming females.

“What’s a piercing ceremony?” Leti asked, her gaze swiveling to his face.

He forced his lips to move. “It’s for mating. But your friend is wrong.” He allowed scorn to splash over his expression. “I would never mate a human slave.”

It shouldn’t have hurt.

Hurt implied she cared, and she definitely did not give a shit about this arrogant Zandian bastard. As if she wanted to be mated to a fucking purple alien!

But it wasn’t like the Zandians who had human mates seemed like they thought they’d downgraded. Mina’s mate had doted on her, and even the strange doctor couldn’t stop looking at his pregnant mate.

So if Paal found her so repulsive, it probably wouldn’t be too hard to find another Zandian who would actually enjoy her extensive training as a sex pet. Why in the hell should she waste her talents and efforts on this one?

And it had already been made clear that she wasn’t stuck with him. Mina had been trying to help, but she’d set her up with the wrong purple horned man. She’d just find herself another. It took way more than a scornful master to get her down.

A helluva lot more.

The doctor released her with some of the antibiotic cream and the directive to return in three planet rotations for him to recheck the wounds.

“I will need a full workup, though,” he called after them as Paal directed her by the elbow out of the room.

Paal didn’t answer.

Funny that a male so irrationally possessive should also find her not nearly good enough.

Paal led her back to his chamber, hurrying her through the colorful corridors without giving her a chance to see much of anything. He pressed his palm to the plate outside his door and it slid open. He scooted her inside but didn’t follow. “Stay where you won’t get into any trouble. I have things to do.”

“I won’t get into any trouble outside your—”

The door slid closed in her face.

She tried to open it, but apparently it was programmed only to respond to Paal’s handprint. Damn the warrior.

Too bad. For a few minutes there, she’d actually imagined she might have more freedom with the Zandians.

Maybe Mina would come and set her free.

She returned to the tray of food, eating not out of hunger, but for sport. Because she’d never tasted such delicious food and it was hard to stop scooping it into her mouth.