The Siren's Call (Fantasy, Science Fiction, Romance) (FORCED TO SERVE) (19 page)

Chiang dropped his hand. “You see into my spirit more easily than any female I have ever known. What I keep repressed is for the good of everyone.”

“It was not a judgment of your life decisions, just an observation,” Boca said softly, unhappy that what she had shared had broken the moment of true connection between them. “I will consider your recommendation about being trained. Thank you for being concerned about me.”

“Caring for your welfare is not really an effort,” Chiang said firmly as she walked slowly away, “just my destiny.”

“For your sake, I hope that is not a truth,” Boca replied, not looking back as she left.

Chapter 13

Gwen staggered tiredly down the hall, and then stopped as she pondered where to go. Some of her things were in Zade’s room, but she really wasn’t up to dealing with him yet. She needed some time.

“Bloody hell,” she said, moving quickly past Zade’s quarters. “I hate being indecisive. It’s worse than all this sneaking around. I am not some nervous Earthling female. Zade is not my first bonding partner. I’ve had partners since I was sixteen.”

Two hallways and many lectures about her ridiculous anxiety later, Gwen let herself into her assigned room. Stripping the slave clothes from her body, she kicked them into a pile to be destroyed later and headed to the bathroom.

There wasn’t a muscle on her that didn’t hurt at the moment. If she hadn’t promised Zade she would come see him, she’d have gone to Medical and gotten something for the aches and pain she felt. Hopefully, a few extra minutes under the drying lights would ease the worst of it.

Cleaning herself was a slow process. Her palms were damaged, as well as the soles of her feet, which felt on fire now that the adrenalin of the mission was wearing off. Worse, she had no healing ointment left in her first aid kit to treat them. The Earthling skin she’d inherited from her biological mother was fragile and often needed care and support since her nature never allowed her to spare them. She was only trying her best not to build too much scar tissue on her extremities. The process of having it removed was painful and she had no intentions of getting it done by any of the medics on the Liberator.

After cleansing, Gwen discovered her body was even more exhausted, so she sat on the end of her bed wrapped in one of Zade’s robes that she had gotten used to wearing while he’d been gone. Over the weeks it had lost the last remnants of his energy, but it still comforted her because she knew he’d worn it. Thinking of him being in his room and waiting for her brought a smile to her face.

He was back, if not completely. As soon as Ania was well, she’d talk to her about the problem. She would know what to do. Or maybe Ania and Malachi together could figure out a strategy to help him get his memory back. They were the smartest members of the crew, and the oldest. They had seen about everything there was to see.

Her mind raced through possibilities of who could help Zade until it wore itself out. Then promising herself just a few moments of rest, she scooted up the bed, wrapped the robe closer—and closed her eyes to sleep.

***

Looking in the full-length reflective surface affixed to the upright clothes chest, he repeated his name—or at least the name everyone kept saying was his.

“Dorian Zade. Lieutenant Dorian Zade.”

The sound of his name was pleasant, but still unfamiliar. Gwen called him “Zade,” but at least she used his Greggor biological father’s surname with a measure of compassion in her tone.

For all that he’d apparently forgotten, it was still way too easy for him to hear his former would-be slave owner calling him “Handsome One.” That he wished he could forget. Perhaps if he were lucky, one day he would.

Prowling again, Dorian forced himself to stop and sit at the desk with some kind of portable work device that he could not figure out how to use. It had recognized him but required a password he did not recall. In fact, he’d investigated every inch of this space until he was fairly sure he had an idea of all contents and their general purposes.

Unfortunately, he had spent so much time alone in his assigned room since his arrival on the ship that the space had started to remind him of the cage he’d been kept in. Sarinnea had shared a quick meal with him, then she left him to go back to check on the Norblade male sharing her bed.

Dorian paced again, this time making a circle of the room. He was bored, he supposed. And restless as he waited. If today was any indication, he was also developing an aversion to confining spaces. Obviously, it was going to be a problem if he ended up thinking that way about every room he visited on the Liberator.

But where was she? His proclaimed mate had promised to return to him, and he had waited as patiently as he could.

Then he saw the wall panel. He walked over and pressed the green button to see what happened. It did nothing. So he pressed it again, trying to remember what Gwen had said about using it to find her. His head hurt fiercely every time he tried to remember anything important, even things he was told only hours ago.

“Where are you, Gwen Jet?” he whispered, pressing the button.

“Please restate your request, Lieutenant Zade,” the computer ordered.

Hearing it speak to him suddenly reminded him of what she’d told him about using it to find her.

“Where is Gwen Jet on the ship?” he asked, annunciating each word of his request as clearly as he could.

“Commander Jet is in her quarters,” the computer answered.

“Her quarters?” Dorian said aloud, wondering again why she had not returned to him. From what he knew of her so far, the warrior female was not the type to say what she did not mean.

He was out the door of his confined space and walking the hallways before he realized the wall device might have also told him how to find her if he had asked. Yet as he entered the second hallway, his gut began the insistent throb that had taken him to her and into the guard house to face potential death.

This time the pain in his gut had him stopping in front of a closed door.

Waving a hand in front of the scanner did nothing. Pressing the green button on the panel beside it, he heard a voice speaking. Missing what it had said, he pressed it a second time.

“State voice override authorization,” the voice ordered.

Dorian pressed the button again. “Lieutenant Dorian Zade,” he stated with as much authority as he could.

“Override accepted,” the voice told him, following the statement with a click that had the door opening.

Peering cautiously inside, he saw Gwen asleep on her bed, tightly clutching a black cloth wrapped around her. He came in quietly and walked silently to the end of the bed. There were dark circles under her eyes. Then he saw the raw, abraded palms of her hands, and one glance at her feet showed similar damage to them. Apparently his warrior mate wasn’t so invincible after all.

A quick check of a nearby medical kit revealed nothing that could help her. In fact, it was distressingly empty and needed to be refilled. The one in his room held some healing salve, and Sarinnea had brought him something more soothing from her room for the rash the Xendrin collar had left on his neck.

With one final look to assure himself Gwen was still resting, he slipped quietly back out the door and walked back the way he had come until he found his room. When he waved his hand over the scanner, the door opened immediately for him. The responses of the equipment on the Liberator to his name did more to convince him of his identity than any story he’d been told. Additionally, he was allowed to move about where he wished by just saying his name.

Satisfied that he was adapting well considering the circumstances, he collected the first aid kit from his bathroom and headed back to take care of the female he was starting to believe truly was his mate.

***

Gwen woke up groaning in pain, but settled when she felt hands rubbing her to comfort.

“God—that feels good. I hurt all over,” she said, then her eyes shot open to find Zade staring at her. “I’m sorry. I was supposed to come find you. I was in pain and I…I think I passed out.”

“You were hurt and needed medical care,” he accused. “Why did you not seek help from the doctors on the ship?”

“We don’t have doctors. We only have medics. And I was trying to clean up and check on you. How did you find me?” she asked.

“Much like I did before,” he answered. “I do not have words to explain.”

“It’s okay,” Gwen said, closing her eyes at the comfort of his arms around her. “I don’t care. I’m just glad you did. You have permission to find me whenever you like.”

Her sincerity was genuine. He felt her body and her vibrations both shuddering in relief. Pulling her closer, he heard her weary sigh and realized how desperately she needed comforting.

“I was compelled to seek you out, but…Sarinnea has informed me that our arrangement was never…formalized,” he said quietly, unsure of what word to put on their lack of intimacy.

“The mating cord exists. Trust me—our relationship is formalized. Creating it took four days and I was sick the whole time,” Gwen said, trying unsuccessfully to stifle her remaining irritation and embarrassment.

“Do you consider that I forced you to be my mate?” he asked. It was the question that had been on his mind all day, almost since Sarinnea had mentioned it and explained about their abduction.

Gwen reached up a hand and directed Dorian’s reluctant gaze to hers. “It was not perfect timing or optimal circumstances, but I believe our relationship was meant to be. I wouldn’t change our connection. We’ve been a long time finding our way to each other.”

“I do not wish to make you a bonding slave, nor to be yours,” he said as firmly as possible while trying to sound kind.

His quiet statement had Gwen drawing away to really look hard at him. “I don’t feel that way. Do you?”

Rolling to his back beside her, Dorian had to scoot his long body up to avoid falling onto the floor. “Your sleeping platform is much smaller than mine. We should plan to share mine in the future.”

“Is that your enigmatic Zade way of trying to answer my question without really giving an answer?” Gwen asked. “If so—too bad. Now I want to hear the thoughts running through that jumbled-up brain of yours. Do you feel like my bonding slave?”

Rolling back, he pushed her flat and parted the unfastened robe to stroke a hand down the center of her naked form.

“I feel like I must make this connection regardless of the risks,” he stated, hearing her hiss and liking the way she arched under his touch. “Is this our first time? Be truthful.”

“For intercourse—I mean full bonding—yes,” Gwen hissed again when a wandering hand slid between thighs that parted in invitation without any help from her. “We—we—I can’t answer your questions if you insist on driving me crazy.”

“So you share my fierce desire to be connected?” he demanded, seeing the answer in her eager gaze. “I would like to hear the words.”

“I’ve wanted this since the first time I saw you. I’ve waited over two years for you to want me back,” Gwen said, reaching out a hand to inch his shirt up.

Taking the hint, he pulled the shirt over his head, tossing it onto the floor. “Was I that much a fool?”

Gwen laughed as he shed his pants. “If I answer that question honestly, you may change your mind about doing this.”

“Doubtful,” he said, rising over her and sweeping the robe off her legs, exposing her body. “Whose robe do you wear?”

“Yours,” she admitted. “It was how I comforted myself while you were away.”

He froze above her, evidence of his need pressing insistently between their fronts as he lifted the edges of the robe, inspecting it. “You wear my robe. I wish I remembered this male you have such compassion for and longing to be with. I wish I could be him for you now in this moment, but I cannot. My head will not allow me to contemplate his existence without pain. Yet I also cannot leave you even if you wished to wait for his return. Joining with you is a truly compelling need and one I cannot resist.”

“Dorian—you are still you, but even if you stay like this—I mean, without your memories—I’m still going to want you. I’m just as compelled,” she assured him.

“Very well then. We have an accord. Now I wish to kiss you until you are desperate for our joining. It seems a logical way to proceed given this is our first full association. Do you agree?” he asked, meeting her intent gaze.

“
Oh my God
—lights on low,” Gwen ordered loudly, just before the giggle escaped her throat and made her glare at him. “Now you have me giggling at your declarations like a love-sick Earth female. Damn you, Dorian Zade. I don’t think I ever knew what being female was like before you came along. You are such a…I have no adequate words.”

“Show me the talents of your tongue instead then,” he demanded, closing his mouth hungrily over hers.

At the first taste of her, it was all he could do to keep from joining their bodies without further delay. What stopped him was the nervousness he felt emanating from her. Sarinnea’s explanation made him gentle his actions.

“I will try not to hurt you in our joining, Gwen Jet,” he said, nibbling her lips as she moaned.

He felt energy building and needing an outlet, then the vibration just escaped, rolling over both of them as he licked and stroked, learning the recesses of her mouth. Her tongue wrapped around his even as she sighed in pleasure beneath him.