His Human Possession (Zandian Masters 8)

Veck, he’d waited too long to call his ships back. They needed to be traveling to Zandia now.

“Rok, as soon as the last ship is docked and accounted for, set the course for Zandia.”

“Yes, my lord.” Rok’s expression was as grim as Zander’s must be.

The war had begun and they were drifting out in Shanli with all the best ships and equipment with their heads up their asses.

By the time they got to Zandia he may have lost half his troops.

Vecking excrement!

“Let me know when they’ve all safely returned.”

“I will, my lord.”

Paal grumbled as he changed his tunic. Lamira had decided to uphold the tradition of a formal weekly meal in the Great Hall, despite the fact that they were at war. Leti was already with the other females, doing whatever it was females did.

He supposed it was smart, on Lamira’s part. A distraction for the occupants of the pod. But for his part, he could do without it.

He’d spent the entire planet rotation and this one avoiding his mother, but now he’d be forced to not only see her, but to sit down and converse. And yes, he was acting like a ten cycle old.

Maybe he should just keep pretending he was needed on deck. His mother had been hard to dodge, because she kept seeking him out, asking a million questions about the pod and those who normally lived there.

It would be just like her to be seeking a new mate. Foolish and greedy old female.

He dragged his feet getting to t

he Great Hall, but arriving late was a strategic error, because he found a seat had been saved for him at the head of the table. Right next to his mother, with Leti on the other side.

May the one true Zandian star help him.

He bowed to the table before he sank into his chair.

“There you are, dear,” his mother trilled. “It really isn’t polite to keep the table waiting when you’re the commanding officer.”

As if his nails weren’t already digging into his palms.

Like when his mother had arrived, he sensed Leti’s avid interest in their interaction. Veck. If he were a real leader, he would send his mother away from the table for insulting him in front of others. No, a real leader wouldn’t draw the criticism in the first place. Or would a real leader just brush it off?

Veck if he knew. Which probably meant he wasn’t a real leader. Only when he had his little female pinned beneath him did he feel the way he wanted to. Powerful. Potent. Masterful.

Not the way he felt now, like little more than a defensive youth. Damn his mother for bringing out this side of him.

Fortunately, Barr, the pod’s elderly chef, arrived with the food, with help from his servants. The meal featured human and Ocretion foods alike—a savory combination of fresh vegetables and fruits, grown right on the pod by Lamira, and the best meats available from Ocretia.

Leti only picked at her food. Strange, considering how eager she’d been to sample all the dishes when she first arrived. But perhaps she’d finally eaten enough. He didn’t know how the human metabolism worked.

A niggling in the back of his mind warned him it was something else, but he pushed it away. He couldn’t trust any thoughts he had about females when his mother was around.

A Zandian Paal didn’t recognize sat beside his mother—another refugee, about the same age as her. The male was well-dressed and regally mannered, a fact that hadn’t gone unnoticed by his male-eating matriarch.

She touched the male’s sleeve and purred, “Did I tell you my son is the commander here?”

Ugh. He wanted to vomit. Now she was going to use his status to improve hers? Of course she was. She’d use anything.

On his other side, Leti watched everything.

The male turned to him and put his fist up in the traditional Zandian greeting. “I am Thon.”