“I understand these are your wishes, Bayla. That is why we engaged in a potentially politically damaging operation to get the information.”
Bayla flushes and drops her eyes, then lifts them again, pleading.
I tip my head in Seke’s direction and he speaks. “It is difficult to track slaves before they become the Galaxy-mandated minimum age to work. We now have their barcode numbers. I’m sure Daneth has told you he’s been running them through his databases non-stop.”
“And when you find them?” she presses. She’s normally the most demure of humans in my palace, but I’ve learned a human mother will do anything for her young.
“We will attempt to purchase them. If that’s not possible, we will discuss alternate strategies.”
“Like what?”
Daneth lays a cautionary hand on his mate’s arm, but I allow it.
“We will steal them if need be.”
Bayla’s body goes limp with relief and her eyes swim with tears. “Thank you, my lord.”
“The initial operation may have already done irreparable political harm,” Seke warns.
Lamira goes still. “What happened?”
“A galactic theft report was filed over the data we took. If they’re able to identify Taisha, the human operative we sent in, there will be warrants out for her arrest. We don’t believe they will be able to trace her to Zandia, but if they do, it could become a diplomatic nightmare,” Seke explains.
“They will trace her to Zandia,” Lamira says.
“How?” I demand.
My mate shakes her head slowly. “I cannot see.”
I steeple my fingers. We’re looking at a possible war, all because my scientific advisor wants to satisfy his human mate. And yet I cannot deny him. The human females have become part of us now. They are our family. They are Zandians. And Zandians protect their own, with honor and courage.
“Tell me how to avoid this war,” I say to Lamira. She has no control over her gifts, although they’ve become stronger since we reclaimed Zandia and she’s near our crystals. But I’ve learned that sometimes it’s just about asking her the right questions.
She sits quietly, staring at nothing. “It is inevitable, my lord. The tides cannot be turned.”
Veck.
Not the answer I wanted.
“But it doesn’t mean we’ll lose. I see Zandia as a strong force with many allies.”
“Then we’ll face it as it comes,” I say.
Drayk
“So how goes it with your human?” Tarak grins.
“She’s not my human,” I insist, even though my mind rebels as I speak the words. “Don’t speak like that.” I nod my head toward the other room. “Others will overhear and think I’m not acting responsibly as a judge.”
“I think the others will get jealous that you get to live with her and veck her every planet rotation if you want.”
“I don’t veck her!” My voice rises, and of course, it’s then that a few beings look over, curious. I lower my tone. “Because that would not be…”
“Appropriate.” He fills in the word. “Listen, Drayk.” He steps closer and puts his hand on my shoulder. “Perhaps you’re taking this judge thing too seriously. If you have a bond with her, why not just accept that and mate her?”
I’m taken aback. “Because I cannot be attached. I need to stay clear-minded. Besides”—I scowl—“as you so aptly pointed out a while back, King Zander would probably assign her to receive multiple mates. Once she’s free to choose.”
I slam a comm unit down onto the console, surprising both of us. “I’m not the type to share.”