Bought By The Zandians (Zandian Brides 2)

A voice at the door rings out. “Danica?” Dr. Daneth strides in. “I may have an answer for you.”

He hovers next to my sleepdisk. “Your previous mate was an Akronian. The females of that species are able to mix DNA from multiple sources, even after the embryo has formed. It’s unique in the galaxy.”

“So when Gorde and Benn and I…ah…” I wave my hand, flushing.

“Yes. The Zandian sperm affected the developing fetus and contributed genetic material to the child.”

“So they really are her fathers, too. Both of them?” I breathe out, entranced.

The baby opens her eyes and smiles, grasps my finger with her tight fist.

“I’ll have to redo a full genetic mapping, but I believe she is definitely part Zandian now.” The doctor’s voice is professional but cool. I sense that he’s not pleased with this situation.

“Right now you need to rest.” Bayla soothes me and strokes my shoulder. “You and the baby, both.”

I look to the doorway, alerted by a shuffling sound, but nobody's there. My heart falls.

“Did anyone notify…” I bite my lip.

Bayla looks away. “Just rest,” she says softly, patting my hand. “We’ll talk more later about what to do next.”

Gorde

There’s nothing like a mission to distract a warrior from his pain. His heartache. It’s better than punching dents into the metal support beams of our dome, which Benn and I have been doing since we found out about Danica’s deception.

I can’t shake the nausea, the low-grade queasiness that follows me around. The whispers, how will you live without her?

But it doesn’t matter. She’s not who we thought she was. And if she deceived us about one thing, who’s to say she won’t do it again?

“Benn and I are going.” I don’t shout, but my voice holds so much power and conviction that every being in the chamber turns to gawk. “The mission is ours. We took Taxx originally, and we’ll bring him back.” I clench a fist. “Any arguments?”

Master Seke folds his arms over his massive chest, unimpressed with my bluster.

“Gorde, I think we should disc—”

I cut off my partner. “I didn’t think so. Let’s go.”

I gesture to Taxx, barely restraining myself from ripping his vecking head from his neck. Then I remember that I’m just as angry at Danica. And at myself, for trusting her. Falling for her. Stupid.

“You’ll sit quietly beside me and Benn and you won’t lift a finger to touch the craft,” I snap at Taxx, as we stride up the steps. “Because you’ll be in cuffs. Stealing a craft isn’t nearly the same thing as training for many solar cycles to pilot one. Don’t do anything stupid, or we will eject you into space and watch you suffocate.”

“Understood.” His voice is quiet but firm.

“And when we get to the planet, you’re going out first, as we discussed.”

“Gladly.” His voice is stronger now, and holds a hint of excitement.

“You know you’re probably going to die, doing this.” I don’t sugar-coat the words.

“Yes.” His answer is simple and quick.

“And yet you’re not backing out?” I stop to stare into his face.

He looks back at me, evenly, not flinching. “I’d die for her. For them.” He sticks up his chin. “I’m sorry for threatening your mate. I wasn’t thinking clearly.” He looks away, then meets my gaze again. His mouth twists. “This time I’m doing what’s right.”

My jaw tightens, but I nod. We board the craft and take our places. Benn cuffs Taxx near the console, and the Zandian sits quietly, although an unmistakable energy radiates from him.

As we speed forward into the inky black, punctuated by far-flung stars, twinkles and dust, I need to ask, “Why didn’t you tell us?” It seems to be a common question, lately.