Chapter Five
The next six days passed in a flurry of activity. Skyla saw more of Tonn than she did of Kryton and she was beginning to feel neglected. According to Tonn, the ship had been beset by one crisis after another. But Skyla suspected an element of strategy also kept Kryton from visiting her. The last time they’d been together had been intensely erotic and keeping her focused on their dream joining worked to his advantage.
Her future had become a sort of race. She needed to facilitate Arton’s rescue before Kryton finished seducing her. And surrendering to him became more of a temptation with each passing day. Her life on Bilarri had been a pleasant yet empty routine. Even her job held little reward. She told pampered rich people how much their toys were worth so they could insure them or sell them at auction. It all seemed pointless and shallow.
She’d spent the past six years searching for her mate. She’d traveled extensively and submitted her DNA to every database she could find. Last year she’d grown desperate enough to contact an interplanetary mate-finder, but even that semi-humiliating step had proved futile.
And then a potential mate found her.
With a frustrated sigh, she tried to force away thoughts of Kryton. It didn’t matter that he was devastating to her senses or that he could provide her with the one thing she’d dreamed about all her life, children. He was Rodyte. That alone made joining with him impossible. But what if she turned the tables on him? She could do her best to become pregnant before she earned her freedom. A shiver dropped down her spine as the thought percolated inside her mind. She couldn’t let him realize he’d succeeded or he’d never allow her to leave. But Bilarrian females often sensed pregnancy long before outward signs indicated that they’d conceived.
“What caused that expression?” Tonn asked her. “You look like you’re plotting a crime.”
She smiled at him. “In a way I am.” Tonn had brought her dinner tray a few minutes ago and she’d convinced him to share the meal with her. They sat across from each other in the small dining room in her upgraded cabin, but Skyla was too distracted to have much of an appetite. This was one subject she dare not share with him, so she switched to a believable alternative. “How old was Arton when he was taken by Harbinger Guild?”
He paused to clear his mouth before answering her. “Around five. I’m not sure exactly. Is that important?”
“It could be.” Skyla took a drink of blood wine as she considered her next question. Hoping to trigger a vision, she’d spent countless hours meditating and reviewed everything she knew about Arton each night before she went to sleep. Still, any useful information eluded her. Many of her visions were spontaneous, but more were triggered by specific stimuli. If she had objects Arton had touched or access to the memories of people who knew him, her visions might be more productive. “Has Kryton seen his son since that day? Maybe in a surveillance vid or…has there been any contact between the two?”
“Surveillance is forbidden inside Harbinger Academy, but Kryton’s investigators have captured stills and a few short vids of Arton down through the years.”
“When was the last time you saw him?”
“A few weeks before he was taken.” Tonn set down his fork and pressed back into his chair. “Why all the questions?”
She’d confided in Tonn, told him about the bargain she’d made with Kryton, and just about everything else. He was easy to talk to and Skyla was lonely. Even if he was Kryton’s spy, she had nothing else to lose. “My visons are often triggered by objects or memories. I think the reason I’ve been unsuccessful is because I have no connection to Arton.”
“The person with the strongest connection to Arton is Kryton,” he pointed out with a knowing smile.
She drained her glass then pushed back from the table so she could cross her legs. “He’s avoiding me.”
“He’s been extremely busy, but I suspect he’ll make time for you. You should have told me you were missing him.”
“I didn’t say I was missing him,” she stressed. “Don’t put words in my mouth.”
Tonn chuckled, clearly unmoved by her vehemence. “I’ll com him for you.”
He gazed off into the distance as if he were communicating telepathically. There were no visible devices on his person, so how was he sending the com?
“He needs twenty minutes to finish what he’s doing and then he’ll come here.” Tonn’s gaze returned to her face as he offered the explanation.
“Are you telepathic? How did you contact him?”
One of Tonn’s brows arched and amusement made his dark eyes shimmer. “You’ve never encountered anyone with integrated tech before?”
“I’d never left Bilarri before and Bilarrians have no use for most forms of technology.” She hadn’t meant the response to sound so bitchy, but his amusement made her feel ignorant. “What did you mean by integrated? Integrated with what?”
“With me. The tech is inside my body.”
His tone still held a hint of disbelief, but she tried not to take offense. Her perspective was just as alien to him as his was to her. “You have some sort of communications device implanted in your body?”
He nodded. “Com-bots are mandatory for all military personnel. It allows us to contact each other or interact with our ship even when we aren’t aboard.”
“Are others allowed to listen in on your conversations?”
He stilled and resentment hardened his expression. “It’s not like we have a choice. As I said, the implants are mandatory.”
It was obvious she was venturing near painful elements of his life, but understanding Tonn could help her understand Kryton. “Why did you join the military or is military service mandatory as well?” She’d researched Rodymia after her first couple of dreams featuring Kryton. But her interaction with Kryton and Tonn had shown her that most of the information had been tainted by prejudice and much was utter nonsense.
“Two types of people join the Rodyte military,” Tonn told her. “The first are sons of the elite. Their commissions are purchased by their families. Higher prices guarantee higher starting ranks. They’re educated and trained for command. And most spend their entire lives climbing the ranks of leadership.”
“Kryton falls into this category?”
Tonn nodded. “He belongs to one of the six founding families. The Lux empire is old and substantial. He had two older brothers when he first reported for training. Both have since passed beyond.”
“Yet he remains in the military. Why?”
“It’s the only life he’s ever known. It made more sense to hire estate managers than to abandon the career he’s spent a lifetime building.”
More death and loss. No wonder Kryton was morose so much of the time. Every person he’d ever loved had been taken from him. She tried not to think about Kryton, but his image lingered in her mind. He’d suffered so much and yet became so successful. According to Tonn, Kryton was one of the youngest generals to ever earn the rank and he now had eleven ships under his command.
If it weren’t for his willingness to use her, she might respect, even admire him.
She shook away the troubling thoughts and refocused on Tonn. “What about you? Why did you choose the military?”
He scoffed. “People like me don’t ‘choose’ the military. We begrudgingly turn to the military for basic survival when we have no other choice.”
He didn’t offer specifics, but she understood the concept. The military offered housing and food, not to mention a sense of belonging and a purpose. Such things were appealing for those without resources or a support system. “How long is the initial commitment?”
“Ten years.”
Her eyes widened and compassion flowed through her being. “That seems excessive. Is there any way to leave if the soldier wants out?”
Tonn shook his head. “That’s called desertion and deserters are shot on sight.”
“Wow.” It was hard for her to imagine such inflexibility. Everyone on Bilarri was encouraged
to explore, to flow from one occupation to the next until they found the perfect fit.
“So what is life like on Bilarri?”
Before she could answer, Kryton walked into the room. Her heart fluttered and tingly heat crawled across her skin. It hadn’t been twenty minutes. It had barely been ten. Was he anxious to see her? She hadn’t realized how much she missed him until her body reacted to his arrival. He appeared virile and commanding without saying a word. And having all that intensity focused on her was exhilarating.
Tonn motioned toward the platters in the middle of the table. “There’s plenty of bokton left. Have you dined?”
“Later.” Kryton waved away the suggestion as his gaze settled on Skyla. “What did you need?”
She needed him to stop ignoring her. She was lonely, bored, and anxious to earn her freedom. Except freedom meant she’d never see him again. A strange heaviness dropped into her stomach and she found herself saying, “Are you sure you don’t want something to eat? I’m not the only one who forgets about food.”
Kryton’s brows arched but his gaze softened as he moved to one of the empty chairs and sat. Tonn went to the kiosk and printed a clean plate and flatware for Kryton, but Kryton’s attention never shifted from her. “So answer Tonn’s question. I’m interested in the answer as well.” His deep voice played across her senses, creating more tingles and breathlessness. Apparently, he didn’t need to touch her to arouse her. All he had to do was enter a room.
She shook away the sensual haze. “What was life like on Bilarri?” He nodded and Skyla debated what to tell them. Compared to the harsh structure of the Rodyte military, her life would seem frivolous. “After my formal education, I was trained by a guild master. The two combined took twenty-five years.”
Tonn returned to the table and handed Kryton the napkin-wrapped flatware and a plate. “How long have you been out of training?”
She smiled at the younger man. “If I told you that, you could calculate my age.”
“All right.” Tonn returned her smile. “Then do you have an occupation? And if not, how do you spend your time?”
“I’m a consultant for various museums, auction houses, and insurance companies. I verify the authenticity and establish the value of art and antiques. My specialty is anything from the Pylean era, which has become quite popular in recent years.”
Tonn just stared at her with a blank expression, but Kryton chuckled. “There’s not much call for those skills on Rodymia.” Kryton filled his plate as he went on, “Your other skills, however, might garner some interest.”
“What other skills?” Tonn snapped out of his stupor and looked at Skyla with open curiosity. “You can do more than dream about the future?”
Awe infused his voice, sending guilt rippling through Skyla. The hunger for magic had driven these men to war, and yet she took her abilities for granted. She’d spent years working with a guild master until she controlled her gifts effortlessly. So why didn’t she use them? She could accomplish so much, help so many, if she would simply step out of her comfort zone. It was sad that it had taken a Rodyte warrior to motivate her to use her abilities.
“She’s Bilarrian,” Kryton reminded. “Need I say more?” The subtle warning backed off Tonn, as it was obviously meant to do. Kryton turned to Skyla and asked, “Did you have a reason for summoning me or were you just lonely?”
Amusement softened the challenge, so Skyla answered honestly. “I need your help. I’ve been unable to summon a vision about Arton without some sort of catalyst. I’m hoping your connection to him will guide my gift in the right direction.”
He paused with his fork halfway to his mouth. “What do you need me to do?” Rather than eat the bite, he set down the fork and gave her his undivided attention.
“If you’re willing, I’d like to start with a memory meld.”
Kryton scowled, clearly uncomfortable with the suggestion. “I don’t like anyone messing with my mind.”
“That’s understandable.” She glanced at Tonn. He was listening intently to every word they said. This conversation would be easier if she were alone with Kryton. “Our other interactions were harmless, more or less. I give you my word that this will be too.”
Kryton stared at her silently for a moment, eyes slightly narrowed. “Are there other alternatives?”
“Is there anyone else with a deep emotional connection to Arton?”
His chest expanded and he looked away. “You know there isn’t.”
“Unless you need me,” Tonn interjected, clearly sensing the rising tension in the room. “I’ll get back to work.”
Skyla didn’t speak again until Tonn was gone. If Kryton wouldn’t agree to do this, she was stuck. It might be for different reasons, but they both wanted to free Arton. “I’ve tried everything I know to trigger a vision and nothing has worked. I’m not sure I can help you unless you help me first.”
He reached across the table and took her hand in a remarkably gentle hold. His thumb skimmed back and forth across her knuckles as if he were trying to memorize the texture of her skin. His sexual aggression was easier to resist than these tender moments. She expected a Rodyte warrior to act like a brute, not a gentle lover.
“Who will control which memories you access?” His gaze locked with hers as he waited for her answer.
Trying to lighten his mood, she asked, “Why? Do you have something to hide?”
He didn’t smile, as she’d hoped. His expression remained grim and wary. “There’s much of my life I have no desire to revisit, much less inflict on you.”
She now knew enough about his life to understand his attitude. His past had been shaped by tragedy and death, his only retreat order and discipline. The combination made for a harsh and hollow existence. “I’m only interested in memories involving Arton. I know the events surrounding his loss are traumatic, so I’ll try to avoid those scenes.”
He slid his hand up her arm, his gaze still boring into hers. “I want my son back. Take whatever you need.”
The offer surprised her, as did the flare of determination in his gaze. Until now the only thing to elicit such passion had been seducing her. She slipped her hand out of his and motioned toward the sitting area. “Let’s move to somewhere a little more comfortable.”
“I’d be more comfortable in your bed.”
Longing erupted at his suggestion and her wicked plan surged back to the front of her mind. If she surrendered to his seduction, their bonding would likely create the connection she needed to access information about Arton. But she couldn’t encourage him openly, couldn’t give him any reason to believe she wanted anything other than freedom. “I need to concentrate. The couch is a better choice.”
He stood and waited for her to rise as well. Instead of leading her across the room, he pulled her into his arms. “I missed you, Sky.”
Her heart flipped over in her chest. His tone was a sweet temptation luring her away from reality. He didn’t care for her, hadn’t been pining away for her during their separation. They weren’t lovers. He needed her and desired her for utterly selfish reasons. Why shouldn’t she use him in exactly the same way? “We can wrestle again or you can help me rescue your son.”
“Let’s do both.” He wrapped his arm around her neck, cradling her head in the bend of his elbow. The move was controlled, painless, yet overtly dominant.
She searched his gaze as he lowered his head, confused by the conflict she saw in his eyes. The desire she’d grown accustomed to was now combined with something deeper, something softer. Before she could decipher what she was seeing, his lips touched hers, caressed for a moment, then pulled away.
“You’re right.” He sighed then released her. “If I start this now, we’ll either end up in bed or you’ll send me away—again.”
Guilt squeezed her heart for an instant, then anger burned it away. “I will not apologize for resisting you.” He turned to walk away, but she grabbed his brawny arm. “I’m your prisoner. You want to use me to inc
ubate your child and then throw me away.” The review was as much for her benefit as his. She could not allow herself to forget what he really wanted.
“You’re my mate.” He looked back at her without turning around. “I didn’t understand what that meant until I captured you.”
She was one potential mate, but they’d had this argument so many times she didn’t bother saying it. Instead, she pointed out, “You had a morautu. You had to have known how it would feel to interact with a compatible female.” Not waiting for his response, she let go of his arm and moved toward the sitting area. “You want to free Arton and I want to be free of you. Let’s focus on those goals, please.”
You’ll never be free of me.
Skyla’s heart skipped a beat as Kryton’s thought reached her mind. Clearly he hadn’t meant to share the traitorous vow, but their minds were already linked and strong emotions were nearly impossible for Skyla to filter out. She stopped walking and turned around. “What did you mean by that?”
“By what?” His voice was more of a growl, but guilt sparked in his gaze.
“Why will I never be free of you? If Arton is rescued, you promised to release me.”
Rather than answer her question—as usual—he asked one of his own. “And you promised not to scan me, so why did you hear my thought?”
She licked her lips. Why was she on the defensive? He was the one intending to break his vow. “Our minds have formed a link. It wasn’t intentional, but I think I triggered it when I scanned your mind. I felt it again when I shared your dream.”
He chuckled. “‘Shared your dream’ makes it sound consensual. You took control of my dream so you could indulge impulses you’re not willing to surrender in reality.”
“That is not why I did it.” Color crawled up her cheeks, contradicting the vehemence in her statement. “I had no way of knowing what you’d be dreaming about when I joined you in the dream realm.”
“Really?” He clasped his hands behind his back, challenge clearly written in his narrowed gaze. “I’ve thought of little else since I brought you aboard my ship. What did you think I’d be dreaming about?”
“Dreams aren’t usually so…focused.” She fiddled with the fall of her sleeve, avoiding his gaze. “I just wanted to talk to you.”
He closed the distance between them and lightly grabbed her upper arms. “I crave you, Skyla. Your image never leaves my mind and my dreams are even worse. I need to be near you, to protect and comfort you, and yet I know the primary threat in your life right now is me. How am I supposed to protect you from myself?”
Skyla tensed. This was it. All she had to do was stop struggling against their natural attraction and she’d be on her way. She’d use his genetically compatible body to give her the child she’d always wanted. She’d repay him by rescuing his son from the harbingers, and then she’d walk out of his life forever. Just like he intended to walk out of hers.
“I know what you mean.” Slowly raising her gaze to his, she inhaled his evocative scent. “I’m so tired of battling myself. I don’t think I can fight it anymore. I ache as you ache.”
It was all the encouragement he needed. He crushed her against his chest, dragging her to the balls of her feet as his mouth crashed down on hers. She wrapped her arms around his neck and opened for his questing tongue, more than ready to surrender to nature’s demand.
Without separating their mouths, he picked her up and carried her to the bed. He sat her down in the middle of the mattress, then attacked his clothes. His boots went flying and his garments joined them half a second later. She pulled off her slippers, but that was as far as she got before he joined her on the bed.
“Let me.” It was more of a plea than an order for a change. “All my fantasies begin with me undressing you.”
She didn’t argue, but didn’t help. She just sat there and let him take off her clothes. Resisting him had been one of the hardest things she’d ever done. Still, if she suddenly had no qualms at all, it would seem suspicious.
Once he’d removed her blouse, he pulled her to her knees, then unzipped her skirt and eased it down past her hips. She wasn’t wearing undergarments and the realization drew an appreciative moan from him. He knelt as well and lifted her far enough so he could sweep the skirt out from beneath her legs. Then their naked bodies pressed together from shoulders to knees and his hands moved greedily over the back of her body. She wrapped her arms around him and pressed her face against his chest, unable to meet his gaze.
“Are you sure this is what you want?” His voice was barely a whisper and his hands moved away from her ass. “I am serious, Skyla. I won’t claim you unless you’re willing.”
“I want this, but I dread the outcome.” She eased away so she could look into his eyes. “I’ll be a pariah. Don’t you realize how horribly former war brides are treated on Bilarri?” And I will never allow you to separate me from my child.
“Then stay with me.”
Time stood still as she stared into his eyes. Was he serious, or was he telling her what she wanted to hear? His expression was so intense that she couldn’t tell if it was calculation or sincerity fueling his inner fire.
“You’re my morautu,” he persisted. “Your place is by my side.”
“Here on the ship? What sort of life would that be for our son?”
His phitons flashed and frustration hardened his rugged features. “I’m a wealthy man, Skyla. I can easily provide for you, maintain the level of luxury to which you’re accustomed.”
“Will your people be any more tolerant of a war bride than mine? Somehow I doubt it.”
“You aren’t a war bride. You’re my morautu.”
She just stared back at him in silence as she fought back tears. Why was he doing this? It was crueler than any of his other strategies. She blinked furiously, but a tear escaped one corner of her eye and slid down her cheek.
He caught the drop on his curved index finger. “Why are you crying?”
“Because I don’t believe you,” she whispered. “If I’m no longer a war bride, am I free to go?”
Tension rolled across his features and he slowly lowered his arm. “You’ve finally found your mate. Do you still want to go?”
Conflicting emotions collided inside her mind. Did she want to leave him and return to her empty life? Her plan had made perfect sense a few minutes ago. How had everything become so convoluted? “I… If we…”
With an audible sigh, he crawled off the bed and pulled on his pants. “The question shouldn’t be that hard to answer. I’m offering you my heart, my soul, my future. All you have to do is accept it.” He grabbed his shirt and boots, then headed for the door.
“Wait, I—”
“You clearly need more time,” he cut her off. “I’ll see you have it.” Without so much as glancing over his shoulder, he rushed from the cabin.