Tarren wraps a meaty hand around my nape, stroking it. “It’s all right to be aroused, Riya,” he murmurs. “We’re your mates.”
I give a shove to the closest chest, which belongs to Jax, but the males don’t fall back. They don’t fall back, nor do they advance. Three pairs of eyes watch me intently.
“Y-you’re not my mates.”
Not yet.
Already my body seems to know it’s an inevitability. Moisture gathers between my legs.
“Do you prefer another warrior?” Jax asks smoothly, like he already knows the answer will be no.
I shake my head.
He brings the pad of his thumb to the crease between my brows and rubs it away. “Then you’re ours.” He leans forward and kisses the place he’s just rubbed. “Don’t fight it. We’ll take good care of you, Riya, I promise.”
My mind tumbles forward and I remember the way my two human friends Lily and Cambry are treated by their Zandian mates. Like princesses.
There’s a great deal of dominance, no doubt about that. The Zandians are a fierce, protective species. But my friends are quite happy with their mates.
Of course, they each only have one mate. And apparently, I’m getting three.
And I never signed up for any relationship.
And there’s the problem of my infertility. But I’m loathe to confess it. Because I’m not sure what happens to human females who aren’t claimed for breeding. What use will King Zander have for us?
“Riya?” Lily calls through the doorway and all four of us spring apart. “Oh.” My human friend takes in the scene, seeming to understand immediately what’s going on. She clears her throat. “Ah, Dr. Daneth said he could use our help in the new clinic now.”
“Coming.” I bolt for the door, relieved when the warriors let me pass. Never in my life have I been more relieved at an interruption.
No, that’s a lie.
One small part of me is disappointed. What would’ve happened if I’d let those three warriors continue their over-the-top persuasion?
A shiver runs through my body as I jog across the marble toward the new dome. It doesn’t matter, because I can’t mate them.
As soon as they see my paperwork, they’ll know I’m not able to breed, and therefore, not eligible for the Zandian repopulation project.
And damn, why is that idea so devastating?
2
Jax
Did you hear me?” Ronan’s voice is eager, as always.
“No,” I snap. Sweat drips down my brow. I might be more irritable than usual from the incredible case of blue balls Riya left us all with. That, and the fact that we didn’t lock her into place as our mate. But instead, I give the excuse, “I’m busy fighting this vecking beam into place.”
The three of us are assisting the engineering crew—human males and Zandians—with the DomePod builds. I can’t deny the satisfaction I get every time I maneuver the beam into place and hear the soft snick as the metal mates perfectly with the linking piece.
Mates. Mating. Even thinking the word has my heart tripping with anticipation for our female… if we get her. No, when we get her.
I saw the way she responded to us in that medbay. Her attraction to Tarren is undeniable, and Ronan seemed to put her at ease. I don’t know what the veck I bring to the mating, except my sheer determination to make it all work.
I wipe my forearm across my forehead. Even my horns are full of sweat. It’s incredible to be able to work outside under the Zandian sun, or what our species calls the one true Zandian star. After spending most of our lives co
oped up on a pod docked above Ocretian airspace, being outdoors on Zandian soil makes me feel truly alive.
“What is it?” I respond to Ronan.