Vanquished (7 page)

He swallowed down a growl,
surprised at
himself
despite how strongly she affected
him. “No one sees what is mine.”

“Lord.” But it was a faint
protest, and he smiled.

Chapter Four

Neira stayed in the cleansing
room as long as she dared. She’d just showered again, and not only to wash the
sweat from her body but to deal with the slickness between her legs. The sense
of losing control made her reluctant to see him again.

 
Vayne had been consistently invading her
space, affording her no privacy except for her bodily functions. The stint in
the exercise room, an interesting area filled with many of the accouterments
she used in her own training, had settled her nerves with the familiar.
Until she’d sparred with the sovereign.
He was a warrior, as
she’d assumed, and well trained. Even her quickness hadn’t saved her, and the
experience of his hands all over her, as well as the time she’d spent on the
floor beneath his strong body, elicited those damn responses she couldn’t keep
tamped down. As for her fantasy about bringing him to his knees with her
fighting ability
…
well,
he hadn’t allowed her the
palka
.

They’d even shared a meal in that
training room, sitting on benches in a
corner,
Vayne
choosing the best cuts of meat and vegetables to offer her. She had been hard
pressed to ignore the speculative and appreciative glances of a few crew
members who worked out in close proximity while keeping a respectful distance.
The business of being fed from his hand meant things she didn’t care to
consider. The sovereign never took his focus from her and if she forgot herself
and her situation for an instant, it was like basking in definite warmth.

She’d tried to stay alert for any
opportunity to take advantage of but was fast becoming resigned to the fact she
was on a ship in space, surrounded by Shadalla, and definitely with nowhere to
run. So that meant she had to dissuade the alien and convince him she wasn’t
destined to be any part of his future.

Vayne took her on a tour of the
Tomodr
, and she’d soaked in the
surroundings eagerly, though thwarted by the unfamiliar written language and
markings. Not to mention being distracted by the big hand resting familiarly
and possessively on the small of her back. He guided her with his touch, but it
was more than that, and willing her body’s responses away was become more and
more difficult. She was beginning to doubt her ability to resist him, and the
fear that invoked helped her find additional strength.

“Neira.”

She quit stalling and sallied
forth,
glumly aware he’d filched her clothing again. A
garment reposed on the bed. It appeared to be a dress of some sort, a long,
flowing item of clothing in varying shades of white and cream. Something she
would never choose for herself and something she was certain she didn’t care to
wear. Vayne was once again dressed in his uniform of leggings and tunic, his
loose exercise clothing nowhere to be seen. She tore her gaze away from the
sight of his tall, strong body.

“We will take the evening meal
with the crew and their females, Neira, if you will don the
paca
. Three of your fellow passengers
are chosens.”

That sounded like too much of
coincidence to her, and her resolve suddenly firmed. There was more to this
chosen business than he was letting on. She’d actually begun to consider that
it might be akin to miraculously finding one’s soul mate amongst many, but
perhaps it was like having a certain blood type.

“I’d prefer my own clothing.” She
didn’t miss the slight flicker of irritation that tightened the skin around his
mouth—and it served to have her take notice of how sculpted his lips were.
Focus!

“My bride must be properly
attired, Neira.”

“I am not your bride.”

His demeanor didn’t change. “For
all intents and purposes, you are. You will be. And I want you to meet more of
my crew, dressed appropriately.”

She could
refuse,
make a scene, but then what? She might be confined to the cabin and risk his
ire, though she truly didn’t sense he would harm her. And if she complied, she
would be able to see the other captives and get some answers to her questions.
Without acknowledging his imposing presence, she crossed to where the
confounded dress lay. There were two scraps of fabric tucked alongside the
skirt—underwear, and she spied footwear set primly on the floor, a weaving of
straps over a thin sole in yet another shade of cream. Definitely a theme
here,
and one she really didn’t want to think about. If he
was in any way suggesting purity, he had another think coming.

****

Watching his little warrior slip
into the undergarments he had pulled from where they were stored amongst his
personal belongings made him impossibly hard despite the fact she donned them
without fanfare or further protest. There was no artifice in Neira, no apparent
need to tease or titillate, yet she was overwhelmingly sexy. He hadn’t
acknowledged the underlying hope that he might spy a chosen on this journey but
somehow the
paca
had found its way to
the trunk. It was designed to cover most any feminine person, and its
enveloping folds would both shield and establish the sovereign’s choice. What
he wasn’t prepared for was the way his hearts—even his damaged one—swelled in
concert, or how his throat tightened at the sight of the symbolic garment
dropping past Neira’s proud head to flow over and shroud her tall, slender
form. She was born to this.

He took the two steps necessary
to reach her, putting out a hand to smooth the fabric over her shoulders, any
pretext to touch her again and experience that indescribable feeling of
possession. He forgot that her reaction to his impulsive move had been
ingrained through intensive training, and because she was female, it mitigated
his counter response. He very nearly lost the battle this time around. Neira
feinted away from his outstretched fingers,
then
transferred her weight back toward him, a move barely telegraphed because of
the enveloping folds of the garment. Vayne had only a fraction of a second to
register that irony when a solid blow to his solar plexus took his breath and
she drove upward to plant her skull against his jaw.

The blinding pain almost stole
his control, and his animal persona surged to wick through the pores of his
skin. Fighting a battle on two fronts, he struggled to take charge of his beast
and stay present while subduing Neira. He felt her shudder as he wrapped her up
and bore her to the floor under his superior weight. To his surprise, unlike
her efforts in their sparring, she immediately surrendered, lying acquiescent
beneath him while the very air in the room crackled and shimmered like a live
being.

He carefully released her and
straightened to his full height, watching her warily as he composed his
features. She raised her head and struggled amongst the wealth of fabric to a
sitting position before looking his way. Her stare was unapologetic, yet he
detected a hint of something else buried deep in those remarkable eyes.

“You have no cause to fear me,
Neira.” He kept his voice calm and reassuring, uncertain of how much she’d seen
or felt within him.

After an appreciable pause, she
responded. “I’m a little on edge.
Being kidnapped and all.
It’s second nature to me to protect myself against unwanted touch.”

Deciding to ignore the latter
part of her comment, he gestured to the door. “Will you control yourself and
accompany me?”

The flash of despair he witnessed
made him wish to take it back, or at the very least pull her to him and soothe
her angst. It felt all the more important to do so, seeing as he was
responsible for it, but he knew to refrain.

On a deep breath, she answered,
“I’m well aware there is nowhere to go, Sovereign. And I would see the other
ca…women. I’ll control myself.”

“Only those women who have been
chosen will be there, Neira. The others must wait until we arrive on Nibiru.”

Stiffening, she glared at him.
“Explain. I mean, why is that?”

He wondered what rank she had
held, this fierce woman who had little patience for diplomacy. Had she given
orders, expecting them to be followed without question? Had she followed those
from her superiors? But she was trying not to alienate him, that was clear, and
he reflected he had yet to earn her respect. Although he should demand it,
considering his status and the one he had conferred, simply by choosing her. He
set that aside.

“Some of the crew volunteered for
this mission in the hope of finding a lifemate, Neira. But of course not all of
them spied one. There were only thirteen Earth females…found, remember.” He
thought that sounded better than captured or kidnapped, but from the look on
her face she thought differently.

“So you’re sequestering the
rest?”

“As is our
custom.”

A faint snort escaped her, quite
out of keeping with her formerly stoic mannerisms.
“Your
custom.
Not ours. Not theirs. It makes me wonder what in hell they’re
thinking about.
And how frightened they must be.
And
what of the women who were
chosen
? Do
they
have a choice? Or are they like
me?”

Maintaining his control, Vayne
ticked off his answers. “Regarding the first of your concerns, I can only
assure you those females being sequestered are being provided with everything
they need and also given all appropriate information. Their questions are being
answered and they have time to prepare for what awaits on Nibiru. I’ve heard of
no worrisome responses.
And the chosen…
Consider them
as arranged marriages favored on your planet eons ago, Neira.” At her faint
look of surprise, he shrugged. “I am interested in the history of many worlds.
In any event, I assure you none of them, or you, will come to any harm—”

“Except we’ve all had our power
taken away, lost our families and contact with everything familiar.
To
breed
more Shadalla.
To
pay
for the perfidy of those who
rule the Home World.”

Her anger and bitterness cut him.
Stiffly, he responded, “You will all be cared for beyond anything you thought
or believed possible.”

“Uh-huh.” Her disdain grated, and
he mostly kept his temper if only with great effort, but still he lashed out.

“You will have nothing but time
to learn I speak the truth.” The cold, inflexible fact obviously struck her as
hard as any blow might have done. He witnessed the shock and another flicker of
despair as she turned away and sat heavily on the bed.

Regret now colored his
perception, but there was nothing more he could do but show her the new way of
life she might expect. “Accompany me, Neira.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“I won’t allow you to sulk in my
quarters like a child.” He daren’t leave her alone, not knowing the lengths she
would go to in her efforts to avoid the inevitable. His comment had the desired
effect. He was already learning much about his intended, aware she would
respond to his inference from the depths of her proud, lovely form. She stood,
preceding him to the door. The
paca
didn’t conceal her angry movements.

****

Vayne couldn’t remember a more
unpleasant meal. The rations were that of a warship, of course, and not
particularly fine fare, but it wasn’t the food. Neira projected an icy aura he
felt powerless to breach, surrounded by members of his crew and three of the
other women from the
Astris
, along
with their males. He couldn’t fault the way she presented herself, unfailingly
polite to those off-duty members, solicitous with the women who looked intently
to her for direction.

Leric’s fair-haired female had
been quivering in her seat at his exec’s right hand, wearing the pale blue
colors of his particular calling. She’d taken her cue from Neira and had calmed
but turned from any attention offered by Leric. The same thing applied to the
two slight, brown-haired women wearing coral and gold, respectively, chosen for
the navigator and one of the weapons’ officers. Vayne preferred to see their
fear and anxiety drain away, of course, and leave room for their higher
functions to begin to assess and understand their situation, but there was no
balance in this. They should be drawing strength from their mates, embracing
the bonding process, as Neira should be looking to him. He ruefully accepted he
needed to rethink things, look past the bone-deep attraction and be more
instructional with his chosen bride. It renewed his determination not to speak
fully of the holding period, and he was relieved to remember his crew had
already been advised to keep certain aspects of that custom private.

“How long do we have to stay on
Nibiru?” Leric’s blonde bride, Victoria, directed the question to Neira, yet
surely his exec had been honest with his chosen.

“I’ve been informed that planet
will be our home from here on in, Vicky.” Neira spoke calmly and gently, as
behooved a sovereign’s mate, but he heard something throb deep in her tone.

“But I don’t want—”

“I have explained this to you, my
bride,” Leric interjected, gently placing his hand on Victoria’s forearm. Vayne
was gratified to see the young female initially relax at his executive
officer’s touch, but she then pulled away and stared harder at Neira.