Kept by the Zandian (Zandian Brides 5)

She immediately stills, then blinks, her eyes coming into focus. Slowly, her taut body relaxes. I sit beside her, pull her onto my lap and wrap my arms around her, where she collapses into my shoulder. She still trembles. It’s not exactly erotic, but neither is it platonic. I’m mesmerized by the feel of her curly hair on my cheek when I bend my head down. She smells of blossoms. I would like to stay here for eons, but we are out of time. I clear my throat, and she opens her screwed-up eyes and blinks back the water, then looks up at me.

“Where am I? I’m—oh. On the ship.” She looks down at her cuffs, then her body. “We, ah, I. Yes.”

I slide her from my lap and hand her clothing to her, embarrassed at my show of tenderness.

“Your trauma is affecting your reason,” I observe. I know humans are emotional creatures, but it seems this one has become unstable. Still, that doesn’t stop the fierce spike of protectiveness I have for her. If anything, it increases it.

“We’ve been diverted on a mission before we go to Zandia.” I consider telling her what it is. After all, she is an escaped slave. She might have some information to offer to help us steal these slave records. “The human mate of one of the king’s top advisors is searching for her young. They were taken from her at birth. We have an opportunity to extract the data necessary to locate the young.”

Taisha’s eyes round.

“You requested asylum on Zandia. Are you willing to assist and serve our species?”

She swallows and I watch, entranced, at her delicate tendons and slim neck. Her cheekbones are high and slanted, and her eyes appear extra luminous now. Stars, she’s pretty. “Yes, Master,” she replies.

I stand up. “Then I need you to sit in the control room and answer questions about Ocretion slave-keepers. We may need that information for our mission.”

My voice is stern, but my body—veck, how I want her.

She nods. “Of course, Master.”

My cock thickens. I should tell her not to call me lord or master, but I like it too well.

I keep the cuffs on for now. She’s still our prisoner, and I don’t trust her. “This is a chance for you to prove your loyalty to us.” I help her stand. “It will all come into account when we finally get to Zandia.” I look at my arm. “Since our first meeting did not go well.”

She glances at my arm, which is fully healed by now. “I said I’m sorry about that.”

I have to force my lips from quirking into a grin, although I’m not sure why I’m smiling. I think I like her being sorry far too well. “So I heard. Time will prove it. And you can start the process now. Come.”

I slip my palm around the soft curve of her elbow. Her scent fills my nostrils, nearly throwing me off balance. Veck, I want to throw her down on the bench and veck her until she cries out in pleasure.

Not now.

Definitely not now.

I pull myself together and escort her down the hallway to the consoles, and point her to seat near mine, a bit off to the side.

“Do not touch anything,” I warn her. “Do not interfere with anything.” To be sure, I take one of her cuffs and

lock it to the seat, which ensures she can’t leave and approach the control consoles.

She just nods. She’s wide-eyed, looking all around her, half amazed, half nervous.

“First time on a ship?”

She nods. “Yes, Master.”

“You were born on Romon-3?”

“No…” She frowns. “I suppose I was transported there from the breeding facility. But it was in a cage. I never saw the ship.”

I know slaves are transported in cages, but hearing it—knowing this beautiful human spent her life treated like a beast—hits me like a blow to the gut.

“I’m sorry,” I say. And I am.

Chapter 7

Taisha