The Uncertain Scientist (The Lost Planet 4)

But then…

He’d offered to help. Made sure neither of us lost control. And then he brought pleasure to Grace as she rode my cock. Fantasies of me watching her with him are too rekking tempting.

In my minnasuit, my cock aches as it hardens. If I weren’t in the middle of something important, I’d pull it free and bring myself some relief or call Jareth to come do it for me.

“Uvie’s not real,” Theron says, jerking me from my thoughts. “You can’t mate a voice.” He flashes me a devilish smirk. “Tell me the truth. How many times have you spilled seed calling out Uvie’s name?”

I pick up the closest tool and heave it at him. He ducks and Breccan catches it as he strides in. Theron snorts when Breccan gives us both a stern look that doesn’t match the amusement in his eyes.

“You two mortlings done squabbling?” Breccan asks, tossing the tool back on the table with a clatter and crossing his arms over his massive chest.

“Will we ever be?” Theron teases. “What are we here for anyway? You have your beloved Uvie and I have the loveliest female on Mortuus. Sweet Mayvina. And I’d like to get back to greasing her insides.” He waggles his brows suggestively at me.

“You’re rekking twisted,” I say with a groan.

“Can’t argue that, Say.”

“Sayer,” Breccan grunts, ignoring our banter. “Uvie said you needed us?”

I swivel in my chair and clack my claw on the computer screen. “There. See it?”

Both morts walk up behind me and are quiet for a moment as they study the readings.

“What’s this mean?” Breccan asks, though I know he understands the data.

“Means we’re gonna take my girl for a ride!” Theron lets out a loud whistle. “About time. The Mayvina was feeling like a caged beast. As Molly always says,” he says, raising his pitch to mimic hers, “‘bless her heart.’”

“How far?” Breccan demands, ignoring Theron’s playfulness.

“Four solars’ travel. Maybe less. The transmission comes from this planet as you saw.” I crack my neck to relieve some tension. “Willow is close.”

“Finders keepers?” Theron asks, chuckling. “I mean…if she looks like Molly…”

Breccan thumps him in the nog. “Don’t be a piece of rogshite.”

“I’m just saying, I’d be glad to go claim that prize.”

“What prize?” Molly says from the doorway.

Breccan whacks Theron again, making him cry out like a newborn mortling.

“Nothing,” I mutter, my eyes flicking to Grace, who stands behind Molly, her head bowed. My nostrils flare when I scent her and I rise from my seat, eager to touch her.

Molly storms into the room, her face red with fury and Grace trails. I stalk over to her and pull her into my arms so I can sniff her hair. Rather than be rigid like I expect, she relaxes in my arms as though she craves my comfort and protection. I don’t have the raging need to mate with her—although I’m certainly fantasizing about it—so her response is genuine and not pheromone based.

“Tell them,” Molly bellows, turning her accusing glare to Grace. “How you know exactly where the prison is and your role.”

Grace straightens and lifts her chin bravely. “I wasn’t a prisoner.”

Breccan scowls, his shoulders squaring. His stance makes me want to crack my sub-bones and roar, which is not something I should be doing against my commander. Still, I hug Grace tighter to me, the need to keep her and my mortling safe overwhelming. My palm slides to her stomach and she covers my hand with hers, squeezing me gently.

“Elaborate,” Breccan growls.

“I was a scientist meant to study the subjects.”

“People,” Molly snaps. “We’re people.”

“The, uh, people who were headed to Exilium Penitentiary from Earth II were to be studied for various things as part of their punishment for the crimes they’d committed. Mainly susceptibility to radiation and diseases stemming from radiation exposure.”

“Like The Rades?” I ask, stroking my thumb along her stomach.

Molly deflates a little. “You wanted to help them?”

I know her mind must be on her mate, Draven, who suffered and nearly went to The Eternals when he contracted a terrible case of the disease.

Grace sighs. “I don’t know what The Rades is—aside from what I’ve been told here and there around here that the morts in the past have suffered from. But I suppose, yes, diseases such as that one and many others. We were looking to create vaccines against such things.”

“So we were just test subjects?” Molly demands.

“Yes,” Grace grumbles. “Like I was too.” She pats her stomach in exaggeration.

“Skip to the part where you know where the prison is,” Breccan barks out. “And please inform the room of why you kept such important details for yourself.”

I’m confused as to why Grace hid her knowledge, but I can imagine she was frightened. She’s been fearful behind her anger since she woke up. Now, they’re practically cornering her with their double fangs out.