Authors: Nena Duran
“Thank you, priestess.” Even though he smiled, there was a fleeting shadow of desolation deep in his eyes. “I’m sure the security chief will appreciate your ministrations, but…”
“How would you like to become my sex slave?” Prince Xy asked, taking her hands in his larger ones. She cringed, sickened by the casual contact. It escalated from there.
Groo’lat’s hand had a bleeding gash where it’d made contact with Xy’s face when he broke his nose. O’frahm’s cheek hadn’t fared any better since he’d tried to separate the two fighting males. Order was restored after Commander Dru-lah drew his ro’traal, threatening them with dismemberment.
“She doesn’t leave this ship.” Her mate’s anger rolled through her like a jolt from an energy weapon.
Nothing was more dangerous than an overprotective warrior. As a branded one, her mate was even deadlier, because he reacted to her distress. He would’ve killed the prince without hesitation.
“Groo’lat, why don’t we listen to what the commander has to say?”
The plan was simple, really. Xy offered to scout for clues, using her as a distraction. They’d go from place to place, posing as master and slave, while discreetly asking questions.
For the plan to work, Tha-lah had to dress as a slave and wear a collar. She hated the idea, because many females on her planet were sold into slavery and forced to wear one. They were treated like property, and frequently beaten and raped.
“No one touches her.” Her mate snarled, looking directly at Xy. “Do it again and you die.”
“Warrior, what’s gotten into you?” O’frahm took several steps toward Groo’lat, but Tha-lah blocked his way. “The decision is up to her.” He backed down, looking a bit disconcerted.
“O’frahm, cut the holo-vid feed.” Arms crossed over his chest, his voice was deceptively calm, but none of it fooled her. Dru-lah held himself in check, thanks to years of training. “Where is it?” She placed her back against Groo’lat’s chest, instinctively seeking her lover. “The brand, show it to me now.”
He couldn’t possibly know about it, could he?
“Brand?” O’frahm gasped, turning around.
“Whatever transpires here stays between us, understood?”
Those around her would never betray a truly branded couple. Pendo’rahns were very rigid in matters of honor, and the Galadonian prince was their best ally.
“Commander, I must protest,” Groo’lat challenged, protectively putting his arms around her.
“Now. That’s an order.”
Those words sealed the fate of all inside the room. Her mate was compelled to obey.
“How did you know?” Tha-lah still couldn’t understand how the commander could’ve known. Pendo’rahns couldn’t bond with other species. It was common knowledge.
“I saw the look on your face earlier when Xy held your hands. You looked ill.”
He’d guessed just from her expression? How could it be?
“Commander, you know what you’re thinking is impossible,” O’frahm said, fixing his narrowed gaze on them.
“Nothing is impossible since the Pran-kril brothers bonded with their Earth mates.”
Tha-lah knew about the women taken from a faraway galaxy. The one called Gigi was Briq’s mate. T’zaal was obsessed with her.
“They’re almost genetically identical to us.” O’frahm still argued, seeming unable to accept the possibility of a cross-species branding.
“I’m perfectly aware, warrior, yet here they stand branded.”
Tha-lah knew then why he was so sure. The commander had intimate knowledge of both couples. He’d read her body language. It was the same. Branded couples developed an aversion to someone else’s touch.
“The commander speaks the truth.” The warrior had extraordinary powers of observation and a deep sense of loyalty. Tha-lah knew he would never deceive them.
“Show me,” he whispered reverently.
She turn around in her lover’s arms and then buried her face in his chest. Groo’lat held the edge of her robe before reluctantly peeling it off.
“How?” Dru-lah gasped, glancing at the series of identical markings down their backs.
“I think it happened while performing a sexual healing ritual.” Until now the brand was believed to appear only between Pendo’rahns. Her case was unique since she was Trac’xian. Tha-lah believed it was a divine gift.
“I’m not familiar with it. Please explain.”
The ceremony wasn’t commonly practiced outside Trac’xia. Other ways of redirecting energy were available, but in Groo’lat’s case a sexual healing would have been more effective.
“I knew Groo’lat needed all his focus for this mission. His warrior’s energy was out of balance with his ul’naah. The best way, to bring unity of mind and soul, was by performing this ritual.” But it had become more than that. As it turned out, their souls merged as one, transcending their species.
“I was filled with bitterness over Gaal’ya’s betrayal, but then our bodies joined and for the first time in months I felt peace.”
Tha-lah was surprised by his admission, because warriors weren’t prone to speaking of such things.
After a few minutes, prince Xy broke the silence. “I apologize for causing you any discomfort, Priestess Tha-lah.”
The poor prince’s nose was a bloody, swollen mess. “I accept your apology. Count me in. Let’s bring Security Chief Mah’yanna safely home.”
Chapter Twelve
The Drunken Spy
Prince Xy of Galadonia looked magnificent dressed in his princely robes with the royal crest. In contrast, her barely there outfit screamed slave. Tha-lah walked five paces behind him, trying to keep the metal ring from scratching her neck.
The gaudy contraption wasn’t your standard metal collar but a symbol of total subjugation. A leash was attached to it. The other end was wrapped around the prince’s hand. To the casual onlooker, she was nothing more than an object. How would it feel being controlled like that?
“Prince Xy, we’re so happy to see you. Are you staying with us?”
A group of six giggling females rushed to greet him the minute he stepped through the door. She should be used to it by now since this was the third place they’d been to. The same scene played out every time. Females flocked to him, fighting for his attention. She had to admit he had a massive amount of charisma.
“You useless lot stop pestering the prince. Go find clients to frackk.” The owner of this unsavory den, a Labonian-Jog’nafan hybrid with greasy hair, came rushing to their side.
“My dear Aj’l, you look as beautiful as ever.” Of all the…even Tha-lah knew that was a lie. “Slave, fetch me some food,” Xy ordered in a condescending tone, handing her the leash.
“I live to serve my master.” A slave was seldom allowed to speak. When they did, they could only utter a few pre-selected phrases.
Xy sat on the large couch, waving for the hostess to join in. The place was a disgusting den that peddled misery and pain. Tha-lah tried to be submissive, not only for the sake of the mission but for her mate. The task was becoming harder with each den they visited.
A wandering priestess’ calling was to offer the goddess’ comfort and hope in places like this. The most gracious would grant her divine knowledge when the time came. She reached the couch while balancing a heavy tray filled with all kinds of food.
“I see you’ve acquired a Trac’xian slave. Come, let’s have a look.”
Aj’l grasped Tha-lah’s arm before Xy could stop her. Gasping, she fell to her knees trying to keep her stomach contents down. The prince grabbed the tray from her shaking hands and then placed it on the table.
“My dear Aj’l.” He yawned indifferently. “You’re lucky I like you or you’d be dead. Try to remember I don’t like it when others touch my stuff.” His demeanor changed from fun-loving rogue to cold-and-disdainful noble. She picked up a dark undercurrent buried deep inside.
“Please forgive me, my prince. What’s wrong with her? Is she sick?”
A beady, little-eyed gaze raked over Tha-lah, making her feel like a piece of meat at the market. Her stomach growled loudly.
“You’re not hungry, are you slave?”
Like discarding a mask, XY switched back to his indolent rake facade. Someday he’d meet his match. She hoped to be around when it happened.
“Um, I am if master says so,” she said through gritted teeth. It was becoming more difficult for her to speak like a broken, simple creature.
“Very well, you may eat from my tray.”
Come to think of it, she was hungry since she’d barely eaten. After the meeting with the commander, they’d spent all their waking hours going over the plan. Despite her mate’s objections, she’d been teamed up with Xy and O’frahm. Groo’lat had stayed behind on
Rag’
mar
with the elite warriors.
“Why are you in my den? It’s obvious you don’t need any of my girls.” Aj’l eyed Tha-lah speculatively.
“I need some information.” Xy shrugged, casually patting one of the females’ plump behinds.
Tha-lah couldn’t help feeling a little cross with him. It seemed as if he didn’t care one way or the other.
“Anything in particular you want to find out?”
Ugh, the greedy hybrid reeked of pure evil. Tha-lah discreetly looked around, promising the goddess she’d come back and minister these females.
“I heard you may know something about a private fight. The prize is large enough to buy two star systems. I need to get in.” His hands crept up another female’s thighs. She parted them in a blatant invitation. “According to some, it’s by invite only, and you’re one of the few with access.”
“I guess anything is possible, for a price, of course,” A’jl squeaked, rubbing her grubby hands together as she looked directly at Tha-lah.
“My slave?” Xy yawned with a bored look on his face.
He wouldn’t dare, would he? The rotten, spoiled blue pervert, he was offering her as part of the deal. Just wait until they were back on the ship, she fumed. How dare he conduct himself like that in her presence? Going around grabbing every female as if they were unfeeling pieces of flesh.
“I’ll take a small percentage of the winnings and your slave to add to my den.”
“How do I know you’ll keep your word?”
The lecherous, immoral scoundrel was enjoying himself too much, but she could also play that game. Just wait.
“I’ll personally take you there. Do we have a deal?”
“Deal, but I warn you if anything happens to me, she dies.”
Some masters took the precaution of linking the slave collars to their life signs. Should they die, so did the slave by being injected with a deadly poison that was inside the band.
“Can I take a closer look at her?”
Tendrils of rage crept into Tha-lah’s heart, and she tried to push them down. They weren’t her feelings, but her mate’s reaction to her sudden fear.
“No.” Xy stepped in front of her, shielding her from the greedy hybrid.
“Tha-lah, is that you, daughter?”
She stiffened at the sound of the familiar voice filtering through the noisy room. Surely eternal damnation would be better than this. What were the odds, after all these years, coming face-to-face with her father in a place like this?
Suddenly, her father let out a roar the likes of which she’d never hoped to hear again. It was pure agony. Without any warning, he lunged at Xy with his sword. The prince jumped several feet off the floor, avoiding the sharp blade. After landing behind her, he picked her up and ran out the door.
Everything looked like a blur since he ran at an incredible speed. Pretty soon the contents of her stomach rushed up all over his princely robes. Not the payback she’d thought of, but he’d had it coming.
“Sorry.” She hiccupped. “I couldn’t help it.”
“Don’t worry.” The compassion in his voice made her feel worse. So this was the real Xy, not the sex-crazed fiend he liked to play. “I’ll put you down as soon as we’re clear.”
“Are you going to ask me?”
“Nope.” He shrugged. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“That was my father,” Tha-lah whispered dejectedly, thinking how old and disheveled her father had looked.
* * * *
Ry-ahl was the first son of a prestigious merchant house on Trac’xia. His life had been full of blessings and prosperity from the day he was born. Five years ago, he’d come home to find his only daughter gone from the temple. He’d blamed himself for it. He should never have allowed her to become a novice.
“The call is strong in this one, my lord,” they’d told him.
Afraid history would repeat itself, he’d relented. If he’d denied her calling, it would’ve forced her to live an empty life. His wife had been same. She’d felt the vocation, but her parents had arranged their marriage.
Ry-ahl had tried to give her everything she’d desired, but it’d never been enough. And so when his daughter had told him she wished to join the temple, he’d agreed despite his better judgment.
“Tha-lah, my child, I don’t understand your decision, but I’ll always love you.”
He’d gathered her into his arms one last time. Months had passed, and he’d waited for his daughter to come out of seclusion. One morning he’d received the encrypted holo-vid that had altered his life forever.
The consortium had his daughter and demanded he turn over all mining rights. He did, but transferred the rest of his massive fortune to a trusted partner. As far as anyone knew, he was now ruined. When the consortium found his fortune was gone, they forced him to become their spy.
A couple months ago, during an intel gathering mission, his path had crossed with the infamous smuggler, Briq. Ry-ahl was so desperate he’d followed the outlaw. He’d almost lost his life in the process, but gained a valuable contact.
Briq could move better around the galaxies while Ry-ahl was hindered by the consortium. That day, he’d entrusted the notorious criminal with a data module full of information. It’d contained detailed plans to gain control of the outpost and trade routes. In return, he’d asked for help tracking information on any illegally sold upperclass Trac’xian females.
He was following some leads from Briq, concerning this very den when lo and behold his daughter walked in. No, she was led in wearing a collar and leash like a common slave. Nothing had prepared him for the sight that met his eyes. His delicate child paraded around like a lowly possession.