His Human Prisoner (Zandian Masters 2)

“She called you that.”

He sucked in a breath, startled. Did the human read minds like Mierna?

“Who?”

“Depri’s sister. You never said her name.”

“Taraw. Yes.”

Silence stretched between them as his throat closed with grief and guilt. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

He couldn’t speak. Taraw had been as different from Lily as a female could be. Willowy and tall, like Depri, she’d been a warrior, as forceful as any. Only on the sleeping platform did she surrender. Lily had been a slave, trained in subservience, but she resisted her real surrender. That was the part that had frightened her earlier.

“I’ve never loved anyone.” Her voice sounded hollow. The emptiness of it scraped at his chest.

“No?” The image of her sister and mother’s faces, pinched with concern over her flashed in his mind. “No family? Friends?”

“None. The closest I came to friends were those slaves I escaped with. But…”

“But what?”

“Things turned divisive with them almost as soon as we settled. There wasn’t enough food to go around. Things were hard. We took care of each other, but there was a lot of infighting and resentment.”

“They all died in the explosion?”

“Yes. I was out foraging for food. We weren’t supposed to be out alone, but I’d needed some time away. I was still enjoying my freedom.” The bitterness in her voice made him wince.

But she wasn’t a slave anymore, not really. If she didn’t realize that yet, she would soon. Even more when she was reunited with her mother and sister. He smiled, knowing she couldn’t see him in the darkness. Giving her that gift—one she’d never had, or could no longer remember—would be sweet.

Chapter Four

Lily woke in Rok’s chamber just as mixed up as she’d been the night before. The lights were on half-strength and she was alone, but he’d moved a hover seat close to the bed and a plate of food sat upon it.

Her heart squeezed uncomfortably. She wasn’t even sure why. Just because Rok had been thoughtful enough to leave food? Or was it something more?

She’d been broken, but not in any way a master had broken her before. Last night, Rok had made her choose to stay with him. Choose to submit to his punishment, to serve as his sex slave. And she had chosen.

As much as she’d like to believe she’d chosen with her cool, rational mind because staying with Rok offered greater chance of escape, deep down, she knew it wasn’t true.

It went far deeper.

She needed to see where this thing with Rok was going. To understand the emotions he stirred in her, as disturbing as they may be. She spent the morning trying to identify them and came up with one word: need.

He created desire in her—not just for his touch, for sexual release, but also for his attention, his approval, his nearness. She wanted to be with him at all times, to watch the grace of his hulking body in motion, to admire the easy command he had of his ship and crew. Because they didn’t act subservient to him, yet they all still deferred.

They’ve chosen him, too.

A tingle ran through her when she realized it. This was the sort of master he was. The kind others chose to follow, not because they were forced by station or threat of punishment, but because he was the one who led best.

It brought home the problem that plagued the escaped slaves—lack of a clear, trusted leader. They’d all been so eager to be free, to follow their own will, they couldn’t get organized around any authority. Decision-making had been impossible because the group wouldn’t even agree to a democratic rule of majority vote for each decision.

The night before, when she’d realized his dead lover called him master, jealousy had gutted her. She’d swallowed back the hurt because his pain was palpable but sent up such a longing for what he’d had, for what they’d had together, she could scarcely breathe.

Love.

The only inkling she had of its meaning was when she tried to conjure up a picture of her parents. Though no specific memories came up, she was certain she’d been loved. She had known love, once.

The beings who hadn’t—girls brought to the training institute as infants—never could be trusted. They never made friends with the other girls or helped each other out. She had had friends there.