"You should sleep, beautiful."
She hardly noticed him easing out of her, covering her with blankets and kissing her forehead. Already she'd slipped into a restful sleep.
6
Paal patrolled the corridors of the palatial pod. He’d docked it in Aurelian airspace but he couldn’t stop the itchy feeling they weren’t safe. Every incoming transmission had his teeth on edge.
Since the docking the night before of two battleships from the training pod carrying the humans not fit for battle, all had been quiet. He’d had no word from Prince Zander or Master Seke, but they’d gone dark on purpose. If all had gone as planned, they were already in battle.
A communication buzzed through the unit it in his collar. “Ronan requesting permission to dock.” The message had been received throughout the galaxy for any and all Zandians who desired protection to seek refuge on the pod. To avoid any foreign ships docking, he’d set up a meet location on Aurelia and sent Ronan to run transport.
“Permission granted. How many on board?”
“Twenty-two.”
Twenty-two. Damn. It would require some logistics to find them all places to stay. Maybe he could hand this off to the princess. She would be the hostess in Prince Zander's absence, right?
He found the females in the Great Hall, where the majority of the pod's occupants had naturally gravitated since the strike. He searched out Leti first, his breath catching, as always, at her beauty. The way she’d met him the night before—open, giving, vulnerable—exactly as he’d always dreamed his female would be—didn’t just make his shaft hard, but filled his chest with warmth.
The females looked over at him and he cleared his throat. "The first arrivals of Zandian refugees are docking. Twenty-two of them. I, uh, wondered if you wished to be in charge of their placement on the pod?" The shift in roles and responsibilities was awkward, at best. The humans from the pod had been given shared servants quarters, except for Lily and Cambry, who, as Zandian mates, were honored.
Lamira stood, but appeared unsure. Of course—no Zandian who hadn't already been acquainted with her would accept a human as their hostess and leader. Humans were enslaved throughout the galaxy. They were considered lesser beings.
Lady Taramina and the princess's mother stood as well. "Yes, we'll figure it out," Lady Mina said.
His gaze wandered to take in his female again. Her lips quirked at him—so vecking sexy. "Good. I'll have them sent in here, then." He spoke into his collar to give the order and a few moments later, two servants arrived with the group of newcomers.
"Paal! Son, how are you?"
His body went rigid at the sound of his mother's voice. Oh vecking hell.
He should've expected her. Why had he not predicted this?
Because she was the one Zandian he never thought would come running back.
He ground his teeth. "Hello, Mother."
Leti and the other females watched the interaction with obvious interest, which only compounded his annoyance. His self-absorbed mother should not be able to still get under his skin after all these years, but she had an uncanny knack for it. Jaw clenched, he stepped forward to offer each of his cheeks for her kisses.
"You didn't think your current mate could provide you protection?"
"I preferred the protection of my son. Your name was relayed as the commander of the pod, and I dropped everything to come."
Right. Or she’d decided to jump ship to something brighter and shinier once again.
As if his mother ever dropped anything for him. No, things must have gone south with her current mate and she was trolling for a new one. Too bad for her she was long past breeding age, or she'd have the pick of every Zandian warrior after the war. Assuming there were any left.
The other Zandians—mostly of the older generation, like his mother, had also entered, taking in the room with varying degrees of appreciation.
Diplomacy wasn't his strong suit, but he recognized Lamira's position was awkward at best, and foisting the bulk of this problem on her hadn't been fair. He cleared his throat.
"Welcome, Zandians. You will be safe here. I wish to introduce you to Princess Lamira, Prince Zander's mate and the mother of little Prince Zander," he waved his hand at the infant in Lamira's arms.
Lamira drew herself up and offered a regal curtsy. "Welcome, Zandians," she echoed his words. "I will speak to the servants to find accommodations for all of you. We hope this war will be short and decisive, but of course, we cannot know how long it will go on. Keeping the last of the species safe on this pod was Prince Zander's most fervent wish, so thank you for placing yourselves under his protection."
It was well-spoken, and the Zandians appeared to receive it politely. Word of Zander's mating to a human had probably already reached them prior to their arrival.
He stepped away, this time avoiding eye contact with his lovely female. Having his mother close put him in too sour a mood to wish to interact with any being.