O'Clare, Lorie - Sex Slaves Trilogy (v1.0)O'Clare, Lorie - Sex Slaves Trilogy 
(v1.0)





Contents:
01 Sex Traders
02 Waiting For Yesterday
03 Waiting For Dawn





O'Clare, Lorie - Sex Slaves 01 - Sex Traders (v1.0)





SEX TRADERS
An Ellora’s Cave Publication, September 2004
 
Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.
PO Box787
Hudson,OH44236-0787
ISBN MS Reader (LIT) ISBN # 1-4199-0025-0
Other available formats (no ISBNs are assigned):
Adobe (PDF), Rocketbook (RB), Mobipocket (PRC) HTML
SEX TRADERS © 2004 LORIE O’CLARE
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book may not be reproduced in whole or in part without 
permission.
This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, 
or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. They are productions of the 
authors’ imagination and used fictitiously.
Edited bySue-Ellen Gower.
Cover art bySyneca.
Sex Slaves 1: Sex Traders
Lorie O’Clare
  Chapter One
 
“Hurry!” Flames leapt from the building. They wouldn’t get out in time. “Get the 
children down to the river. Follow it to the village.”
Her father’s slaves had no skills. Bred for pleasure, the children his bastards, 
Marla knew their chances for survival were slim. But they would die a worse 
death here. The last of the women ran, the children fleeing by their sides, 
while the once beautiful structure that had been her father’s sanctuary burned 
to the ground.
“Marla! Quick! Take cover!” Krone, her father’s personal guard, barely yelled 
his warning before a fire bullet scorched through his back.
Burnt flesh filled the air with its unbearable stench. Her stomach bucked, 
bitter bile rising to her throat. She clamped her hand over her mouth, praying 
she wouldn’t vomit. Every minute counted if she were to stay alive through this 
nightmare.
She ran toward the house, determined they wouldn’t find her father’s body. Black 
smoke filled her lungs, her eyes watering. Her black cape, the one she’d always 
worn with pride that marked her daughter of the house of Torl, served now only 
to cover her face.
A Bortan flier buzzed overhead. Krone had told her father they would attack the 
structures. But Torl was a damned stubborn, old man. He’d refused to leave his 
home, and now he was dead.
“Leave us alone,” she cried out toward the black, single-piloted Bortan flier. 
“You’ve destroyed us already.” She wouldn’t break down now. The lump in her 
throat threatened to spread into tears. “Let me bury my dead in peace.”
The Bortan flier disappeared into the thick clouds formed from the burning 
countryside, but then reappeared before she made it across the yard. Her heart 
raced, fear creeping down her spine, when the black contraption lowered its 
landing gear. She’d heard the threats that the Bortan would quarter her father, 
casting his body parts over the four largest villages.
“The end of the Torl Empire.” She’d laughed at the merchant who’d told her the 
stories. “They will desecrate his body, spreading his limbs for all to see that 
they have successfully wiped out the sex slave markets.”
“They only want to corner the market for themselves.” She hadn’t a care in the 
world about the Bortan at that time.
But the merchant had wagged a knowing finger at her. “Don’t be foolish. The 
Bortan control most of the solar system. They won’t have sex sold without their 
tax applied.”
“The Torl family will breed sex slaves for generations to come,” she had assured 
him. “Tax free. The Bortan have no jurisdiction here.”
What was left of her legacy burned beyond control.
The Bortan pushed open the door of his flier, his metal armor that covered him 
from head to toe, visible even in the thick smoke. All of the guns were in the 
house. She had only her knife, useless against this metal-cast warrior. Horror 
gripped her while she watched him approach, his armor clinking with each step. 
If he didn’t kill her immediately, he would rape her. Worse yet, he would take 
her with him, possibly selling her as a torture slave at one of the Bortan 
outposts.
She turned, knowing running was futile, but not willing to simply stand and 
accept her fate. Terror choked her, stealing her breath, making movement 
impossible. Behind her stood another person, tall, dark, his expression 
brooding. The last person she expected to see in her own front yard was mere 
feet away. Her mouth went dry, while her heart began pounding so hard that it 
hurt.
Trev of Kopah, son of Kopah, her father’s worst enemy, approached her, laser in 
hand. It had been years since she’d seen him last, and then she’d kicked his 
ass. The gaunt teenager was gone, replaced by a muscular man, his grayish, 
almost lavender eyes hell-bent on their mission.
Breathing was hard enough to do in the thick smoke, but staring into the face of 
the man whom she’d denied years ago made it almost impossible.
His clothes clung to his muscular torso and were stained, covered with soot. 
Apparently the Bortan had attacked Kopah territory too. That would make sense. 
She doubted Trev would be so filthy if he weren’t defending his land. But even 
with smeared mud and ash, the first thing that caught her eye was how damned 
sexy he looked standing there, his laser aimed at her. Her insides tightened, 
desire rippling through her while she stared at those intriguing 
grayish-lavender eyes.
This man, her lifelong sworn enemy, moved her like no man ever had. Standing 
there, in the middle of her yard with everything she knew burning at the hands 
of enemies, something ignited inside her that she couldn’t identify. She 
shouldn’t be feeling like this. Her home burned around her and everyone she knew 
was dead. Her reaction to him had to be a result of shock. Why else would she 
suddenly feel so damned turned on staring into his sensual gaze?
“What do you want?” She barely whispered, her mouth dry from inhaling so much 
smoke.
“You.” His eyes darkened, the gray giving away to lavender. Smoke and darkness 
around him only added to the mystery of his presence here.
Something in his gaze gripped her. Not terror, at least not the terror she knew 
from the Bortan. His look was almost predatory—possessive. He took a step 
closer, looking ready to devour her.
It would make sense that he wanted her so he could kill her. Their families had 
been enemies forever. But the way he stared at her right now, his penetrating 
gaze devouring her, he didn’t look like he wanted to kill her. That was the look 
of a man who wanted to fuck her silly.
She must be beyond shock. She was losing her mind.
The clinking of armor brought her back to her senses. The Bortan walked toward 
her from behind. She was trapped between two enemies. The last thing she wanted 
to do was choose which of these men would kill her—or fuck her. Her chances were 
slim, but she would fight to the end.
“I will not die today.” She turned from both men, praying the gods were on her 
side.
The uneven ground and her long cape made running a challenge, but she wouldn’t 
surrender. The medic’s house was her last chance for cover.
Laser fire whistled behind her. If Trev had aimed at her, he was a worse shot 
than she was. Her cape billowed behind her while she stumbled down the hill 
toward the medic’s quarters.
“There are guns here. Think.” Her hands shook while she latched the door closed.
She hadn’t been inside the small house used for physicals, abortions, or any 
other attention the slaves might need, for quite a while.
“Is anyone here?” The examination room appeared empty.
She yanked open drawers searching for weapons, shaking so hard she almost pulled 
a few drawers all the way out.
“No!” She yelped when a large bang against the office door about made her jump 
out of her skin.
“Leave while you can.” She screamed at the bolted door. “I’m armed.”
She needed to find a gun. A weapon of any kind would do. She raced to the next 
examination room, sliding on the floor, her knee burning when she fell. There 
wasn’t anything here to defend herself.
“Gods!” She screamed at the sound of crashing wood, realizing immediately she 
had given her whereabouts away.
Some warrior she would make.
There was no escape. The Bortan warrior clinked while he walked, metal scraping 
over the white tiled floor. There were examination rooms on either side of her, 
but otherwise she stood, trapped, in the narrow hallway leading to the main 
entry room.
“For the sake of the gods, Bortan.” She hated how pathetic she sounded. “Leave 
me in peace to bury my dead. You’ve done enough damage.”
She swallowed the lump in her throat while watching him slide his fire gun back 
on to his belt. There was no comfort in the knowledge that he didn’t plan on 
killing her immediately.
The Bortan raised his helmet, his red eyes glowing against his pale humanoid 
skin. He pulled his gloves off, the mechanical movement of his fingers reminding 
her that she dealt with a machine here, as well as a person. She licked her dry 
lips, taking a step backwards.
He had her trapped, his presence filling the end of the short hallway. There was 
no way she could get past him. He obviously realized this, since he took his 
time removing his gloves.
“I don’t intend to do any further damage.” His voice vibrated. Possibly his 
manmade vocal chords had been damaged in battle. “In fact, word is that a slut 
like you will enjoy what I have.”
She shuddered, backing away from him. “I’m not a slut.”
“Oh. That’s right.” His laughter chilled her blood, the gruesome vibrating sound 
turning her stomach. “You just breed and sell sluts.” He shrugged. “Whatever. 
I’m still going to fuck you.”
Chapter Two
 
Trev rolled over on the ground, wondering if the bumps he felt were on his head, 
or from the dirt he lay on.
“Fucking Bortan.” What a despicable race, feeling their superiority by enhancing 
their body parts with machinery.
He rubbed his head, taking his time sitting up, regaining his wits about him. At 
least he now knew that the Bortan’s fire-gun must need recharging. The Bortan 
hadn’t fired at him, simply pounded his head with his fist. Like that wasn’t 
enough. He groaned, forcing himself to stand. Some hero he was.
Although he hadn’t visited Torl since he was a boy, he remembered the layout of 
the Torl Estate. Hell. He remembered everything about his last visit. And this 
visit seemed to be getting off to about as good of a start. There was one 
difference though. The last time he’d been here a cute teenage girl had 
tormented him. Now the sexiest woman he’d ever lay eyes on had taken her place. 
Marla sure had grown up. He’d wanted to fuck her when he was a boy. Now he knew 
he wouldn’t leave Torl until he had felt the smooth heat of her pussy wrapped 
around his cock.
He didn’t run far before noticing a small structure at the bottom of a hill, 
protected by surrounding trees. The Bortan must not have noticed it, or they 
probably would have burned it, too.
Images of Marla, still a teenager, appeared in his thoughts. The last time he’d 
seen her, she had assured him she would rather die than have him touch her. He 
wondered if she still felt the same way. The terrified look she’d given him just 
now seemed proof enough she didn’t view him as an ally.
That night, so long ago, he had crept onto Torl land, intending to spy on her. 
News of the parties held here, the successful business deals conducted, the 
amazing sex shows and orgies that took place, were incentive enough to sneak 
onto the land.
Like everyone else, Trev heard how Torl treated his sex slaves. They were 
reported to live in the lap of luxury, spoiled and nurtured, trained in the fine 
art of pleasure, then sold at incredibly high bids. The rumors had been 
accurate.
Trev remembered watching two young slave girls strip before their master, and 
then praise him by sucking his cock. The party attendees watched the act, until 
Torl gestured that his other slaves should mingle among the guests, offering 
their bodies to his guests for them to enjoy as they saw fit. Trev had almost 
ruined his pants watching the orgy that followed from his hiding place. He 
probably would have, if he hadn’t been caught.
The guards had held him here, in this house. It had been an examination area at 
the time, used to assure the slaves met health codes. Trev still remembered 
waiting for what seemed like hours before Torl showed up, his daughter in tow. 
Marla was more beautiful up close than she had been at a distance, and he 
remembered stumbling over every word while answering Torl’s questions.
The old man could have had him flogged for violating several treaties, crossing 
onto enemy land, gathering knowledge his father could have used against Torl. 
Their families competed for sex slave trade control, both houses growing 
wealthier every year, and hating each other more and more for the other’s 
success.
“You might as well let him go, father.” Marla had turned her back on him, her 
curved ass displayed so nicely in the tight pants she had worn that night. “Let 
him tell his family of our success. I’m sure a messenger boy is all he is good 
at. The gods know I would rather die than be touched by him. I’m sure that is 
the opinion of all ladies of society.”
“Go home then, boy.” Torl had dismissed him with the wave of a hand, turning to 
rejoin his guests. “Be it known if I see you again, you won’t walk away as 
easily.”
The guards had watched him head toward his home, but he’d ducked to the side, 
hiding by a riverbank, and waited. He had to see her again. Marla captivated 
him, and as with any youth, he wanted what he couldn’t have.
“Does someone need to teach you a lesson in following orders?” She’d appeared 
out of nowhere.
“Are you volunteering for the job?” He’d been cocky, delighted to be alone with 
the temptation of his dreams.
But then, she’d kicked his ass. Before he could react, she’d punched him in the 
stomach, and then tripped him, making him fall in the mud. She hadn’t allowed 
him time to get up before she kicked him in his lower back, stealing his breath, 
and making him double over in pain.
“You aren’t worth any more of my time.” She’d flipped her long, silky white hair 
over her shoulder, and marched away from him, leaving him writhing in pain, with 
nothing more on his mind than the sway of her adorable rear end as she 
disappeared into the darkness.
A bloodcurdling scream ripped through the air, stopping him in his tracks. 
Marla! It had to be her he’d just heard. That fucking Bortan was torturing her.
“I’ll fry every circuit in your mutated body,” he swore under his breath.
The front door of the house had been destroyed. The Bortan either thought he had 
killed him, or he didn’t view Trev as much of a threat. No one was in the main 
room of the home. Wherever the Bortan had Marla, he obviously didn’t give much 
thought to being interrupted.
That fucking Bortan could just go ahead and think himself omnipotent. It would 
be much easier to destroy the bastard.
It took some effort to step around the door, which lay in pieces on the floor in 
the main room of the house.
“Don’t do that. No!” Marla pleaded with the Bortan. And she was nearby, 
somewhere in the house.
All he had was his laser. He pulled it from the case on his belt, holding it 
poised in front of him. This was not his area of expertise. His palm grew sweaty 
wrapped around the cold metal of his gun. But damnit, his family was dead, his 
land destroyed. Marla had lost everything, too. It seemed he had a hell of a lot 
more right to her than that Bortan did. And he would fight for that right.
“You aren’t in charge here, slut.”
A smacking sound followed. The Bortan must have slapped her.
Her cries ripped through him. Pain twisted in his gut, a mixture of sympathy and 
outrage. Marla didn’t deserve abusive treatment. He had seen the fear, the hurt 
in her eyes earlier, when she turned and saw him behind her, before she ran. The 
Bortan had destroyed her world, and now the monster would destroy her, too.
The hallway disappeared in the shadows, with a door on either side. The Bortan 
had her behind the door to Trev’s left. He heard the metal clicking on the floor 
when the Bortan moved. There would only be one opportunity. If he muffed this, 
there wouldn’t be a second chance.
He pushed the door open, holding his breath, not sure what he would see.
“I bet I can get at least ten marks for you.” The Bortan’s voice vibrated, 
making him sound even more deranged. “That is, if I decide to sell you.”
“You won’t live long enough to sell me.” Marla had to be given credit for 
threatening him.
The Bortan had her spread-eagled up against the wall. Knives had been shoved 
into the wall, her wrists and ankles bound to the handles. Trev couldn’t move 
for a moment, unable to take his eyes from her beauty, stretched out and naked 
before him.
The Bortan laughed. He had removed his helmet, his bald head an atrocity in the 
foreground of paradise. The electronically enhanced man ran his metal digits 
down the front of her body, over her round, plump breasts. They brushed over her 
flat tummy, her breathing coming hard while she focused on her captor. Her shiny 
white hair fell over her shoulders, streaming down her gleaming white skin. Her 
body glistened, while her muscles quivered against the humanoid’s touch. The 
Bortan kneeled, his metal armor shifting, clinking with the movement.
“Such beauty will remain even after your spirit is broken.” Those metal fingers 
probed her pussy, pressing against her shaven skin.
Trev couldn’t look away when the man’s tongue, silver and longer than it should 
be, flicked from his metal lips.
“You’ll burn in hell for this.” Marla had her eyes squeezed shut, looking 
upward, her lips pursed in tight determination.
She hadn’t noticed him enter, and thankfully, neither had the Bortan.
“There is no hell, you foolish whore.” The Bortan pressed his mouth against her 
cunt, her body lurching in response, the restraints holding her while she thrust 
her hips from side to side, obviously trying to free her pussy from his mouth.
The Bortan possessed ten times Trev’s strength. If he fired his laser at the 
man, he could kill him instantly with his head exposed. But Trev feared the 
laser could penetrate through the man, hitting Marla as well. He stood, not 
moving, praying to the gods that the mechanical brute would move any minute. 
Trev wouldn’t miss his target, and he wouldn’t miss his opportunity. Even if the 
Bortan turned to acknowledge him, it would be all he would need. But he wouldn’t 
risk it with the man’s only exposed body part so close to Marla’s sweet pussy.
“Females tell me they never want a human tongue again after experiencing what I 
can give them.” His metal tongue tapped against his metal lips. “But you will 
beg me for more when I fuck you.”
Trev praised the gods when the Bortan stood, reaching for his crotch.
“Open your eyes, bitch.” His metal fingers wrapped around her chin, shaking her 
head, until she opened her eyes. “Feast upon a cock like none you’ve ever seen 
before.”
Marla stared at the Bortan with watery, pale gray eyes. But her gaze rested on 
the mechanically enhanced man only for a second, before she noticed him. Trev 
had to act. She met his gaze, her eyes widening, her mouth opening ready to cry 
out.
The Bortan turned around, his human cock, surgically enhanced so that it 
vibrated, hung free from his metal armor, protruding forward like a thick, evil 
snake.
“She’s mine!” The Bortan raised his fist to strike.
Trev aimed and fired, not hesitating. The Bortan’s head exploded, metal and 
flesh splattering everywhere.
Chapter Three
 
Marla’s screams filled the room, echoing in the hallway. She didn’t stop 
screaming. Her terror and shock would take a while to ebb, but at the moment, 
Trev could do nothing about that. She wasn’t harmed. That was all that mattered. 
And if the gods agreed, she was now his.
There was just a slight matter to deal with first.
The Bortan was almost too heavy to drag. But Trev wouldn’t allow his massacred 
body to be found inside Marla’s property. Better he be discovered later by his 
own kind in the open. Killed in battle. The Bortan wouldn’t be able to mark 
Marla for revenge that way.
“You can’t leave me here.” Marla sounded panicky. “Where are you going?”
She continued to call out to him, while he dragged the dead Bortan outside, 
toward the trees. Smoke ran thick through the countryside, the main house no 
more than a smoldering foundation from what he could tell. The flames had 
subsided, the ground a red glow under the black haze.
A bloody path, where he’d dragged the Bortan out of the house, led his way back 
to Marla.
“I have no intentions of leaving you.” He glanced around the room, noticing a 
sink, and grateful that it appeared to still be in working order.
“What are you doing?” She sounded calmer, although he heard the worry in her 
voice. She didn’t trust him.
“You’ve got that Bortan’s blood splattered all over you.” He opened cabinets, 
and pulled out several drawers until he found what he was looking for. “We can’t 
leave here with you looking like that.”
“Fine. Untie me. I can clean up.”
He made sure his laser was ready to fire, not convinced they would be left 
undisturbed for long. But for the moment they were alone, and he had every 
intention of taking advantage of that fact. He let water run over a washcloth 
before wringing it out. For too long he had waited for this moment. Blood surged 
to his cock, the pain unbearable. But he wasn’t a boy anymore. Trev knew how to 
restrain himself. No matter if his cock swelled with enough intensity to make it 
hard to think straight.
“I’ve just saved you from a fate worse than death.” He watched her eyes widen 
when she noticed the dampened cloth in his hand. “I do believe I deserve the 
honors.”
“You’re no better than the Bortan, Trev of Kopah.” She turned her head toward 
the wall, refusing to look at him.
“Oh?” He had a feeling he would enjoy this. “I’m sure if I leave you here long 
enough, more Bortan will show up.”
She turned her head fast enough that silky, long white strands of hair fell over 
her face. He’d never known hair to glide over his fingers like hers did. She 
glared at him, anger turning her elegant cheekbones crimson, while he moved her 
hair away from her face.
“Don’t you dare leave me tied up like this.”
He couldn’t keep from smiling. She knew damned well he wouldn’t leave her.
She shivered when he ran the wet cloth over her arm, washing the blood splatters 
from her skin.
“Your tattoos are incredible.” He knew his lust came through in the huskiness of 
his voice, but watching her nipples harden into light brown pebbles made his 
cock burn with need. She didn’t answer. He forced his attention to her face, 
running the cloth over her thin neck, under her strong jawline. Her eyes 
remained shut, those long lashes spreading elegantly over her flushed cheeks.
This was harder to do than he thought. His cock bulged against his pants, while 
blood rushed through him, raising his body temperature. He was almost dizzy from 
the incredible urge to fuck that seized him. He needed fresh air. He needed 
Marla.
And she seemed to have tuned him out, keeping her eyes closed, her hands relaxed 
against the bindings that held her. Her nipples puckered invitingly, driving him 
mad. He wanted to believe that was a telltale sign that his touch aroused her, 
but couldn’t deny the moisture of the cloth might simply be making her cold. 
That thought didn’t sit well with him. Marla had to know he cared about her. 
He’d dreamed of her too many nights since his youth. Her beauty, her strength, 
her ability to keep her dignity tied like a slave, every bit of her appealed to 
him.
“Am I so repulsive?” He grabbed a fresh cloth, making sure the water was warmer 
this time.
No woman had ever denied him before. Most of them begged for his attention. Yet 
none of them had ever really captured his attention. Not like Marla did. Her 
refusal to react to his attention burned through him like a fever leaving a foul 
taste. It was unacceptable. She had to see his craving for her, know he wished 
to cherish her. And she would admit it.
She swallowed, sucked in her lower lip, but her eyes remained closed, and she 
kept quiet.
This time he took the cloth, almost hot from the water, and rubbed her tummy. 
She gasped, making his brain boil, heat surging through him. His hands shook in 
his effort to control himself. If he wasn’t careful, he would make a fool out of 
himself, coming in his pants.
Her tummy and legs weren’t tattooed. The intricate vines and flower pattern 
twisted around her arms, over her shoulders, criss-crossing over her breasts, 
and flowing over her hips to her backside. Most women of fine culture were 
adorned with the intricate ink drawings in their skin. But Marla made the 
drawings a work of art.
“Do you know how beautiful you are?” he barely whispered.
Talking distracted him from the demands his body made on his brain, but he 
needed the distraction to stay focused. If he didn’t, he would rape her. He 
wouldn’t rape her, though. He needed her to want him as badly as he wanted her. 
If she denied him, he wouldn’t be able to live through it.
But she smiled. He was sure of it. Her lips perked upwards just enough to show 
she hadn’t completely tuned him out.
The blood splatters were gone from her body, but he rinsed one more cloth, 
making the water almost hot. Returning to stand close enough to feel her breath, 
he ran the damp cloth over her breast.
“Trev.” She cried out his name so beautifully, her body convulsing, her hands 
balling into fists.
He brushed the cloth over her other breast. She inhaled, her breath coming in 
gasps. If he didn’t give his cock some room in his pants, he knew he would do 
permanent damage to the most cherished part of his body.
But he wouldn’t take her by force. She wanted him, and if he played this right, 
she would admit to her desires. He ran his finger over her nipple, not able to 
stop himself. Thoughts of how to persuade her flowed through him, but all were 
matters of seduction. Any woman would succumb to her cravings if persuaded well 
enough. But he wanted Marla to be glad she had fucked him after the act, and not 
regret it.
“Are you still scared?” He wanted to know her thoughts, had to know what stirred 
beyond those fluttering eyelashes, her quivering breaths.
She met his gaze, those gray eyes of hers swarming with emotion. Her mouth 
opened to speak, but then she closed it again, her lips puckering into a 
delightful pout. What he wouldn’t do to experience those full lips wrapped 
around his cock.
“Will you hurt me?” He almost didn’t hear her ask, she spoke so quietly.
He shook his head, surprised by the question. “No.” If he had anything to say 
about it, she would never experience pain again.
“Then I’m not scared of you.” Her lashes fluttered over those beautiful eyes, 
her brief moment of acknowledging him passing.
He wanted to tell her that both of their families were dead, that all treaties 
and laws preventing them from being together no longer existed. All that was 
left were the two of them, free to create their own path. But telling her these 
things would manipulate her decisions. Marla had to decide she wanted him.
The washcloth landed in the sink. He didn’t want it preventing him from touching 
her any longer. Her skin was like silk, decorated with such rich colors. He 
wanted to look at every part of her all at once, explore all she had to offer 
with one touch. Blood raced through him, just as his thoughts did, his craving 
for her intensifying the longer he stood in front of her.
“The Bortan tasted you.” Her hips quivered while he focused on her shaved pussy. 
“I saw what he did to you.”
Her breaths became longer, inhaling deeply. She anticipated what he would do. 
There was no panic on her expression. Even though her eyes remained closed, once 
again, he no longer believed she blocked him out.
Trev knelt, inhaling the thick scent of her cream. The aroma made him mad with 
need. Pre-cum soaked the tip of his cock and it took more strength than he knew 
he possessed to move slowly. Her legs trembled, spread, unable to close while 
bound to the wall, or prevent him from touching her, tasting her.
“I promise you, no Bortan will ever touch you here again.” He traced his finger 
along the opening of her cunt, moisture seeping from her small hole, soaking his 
finger.
Her leg muscles became more defined, her body tightening, while her hips thrust 
toward him. This is where he wanted her, craving his touch, doing everything in 
her power to encourage him to continue.
He slid his finger through her heat, humidity scorching his skin. Her pussy 
tightened around him, her entrance more narrow than he’d anticipated. Maybe the 
rumors of all the men she had fucked weren’t true. She was damned tight. For the 
first time he wondered if she was a virgin. He would be the happiest man on this 
planet if that were true. After all he’d lost that day, knowing she’d never 
given herself to another man would be a warm light amidst this day of terror.
Marla made an adorable mewling sound when he pulled his finger from her cunt. 
The rich cream soaking his finger tasted like nectar, a treat from the gods. 
Maybe she was being offered to him in compensation for losing everything to the 
Bortan.
“I’ve never tasted anything so wonderful.” He glanced up at her, catching her 
watching him, her mouth shaped in an adorable tight circle.
He continued to watch her, praying to hold her gaze captive, while moving his 
mouth to her pussy. She didn’t look away when he covered her heat with his 
mouth, feeling her cream soak his lips. He could spend hours right there. But 
their time was precious. And right now he needed to hear what he saw in her 
expression.
“Am I so repulsive?” he asked her again.
Chapter Four
 
Marla had never been in such a vulnerable position in her life. She’d watched 
slaves bound before, enjoyed seeing them teased and fucked while tied and unable 
to move. But it was a completely different experience to be the one bound.
Her muscles ached, stretched and held captive. The discomfort had been her 
focus, enabling her to block out what was happening to her. But she hadn’t 
expected Trev of Kopah would seduce her.
“You are Trev of Kopah.” She didn’t understand why he kept asking her that. He 
knew he wasn’t repulsive. There wasn’t a man on this planet as beautiful as he 
was.
She wouldn’t submit to his mind games. Maybe he hadn’t tortured her like she 
thought he might. But this could be considered a method of attack. He obviously 
knew his skills were fine tuned, had probably fucked enough women to know just 
how to touch them, caress them, in order to gain their submission.
“Kopah no longer exists, Marla.” He pressed his mouth over her cunt, his lips 
smothering her clit with soothing, moist heat.
Turmoil grew inside her, a raging fire, boiling into a pressure seeking release. 
His mouth caressed her pussy, kissing and licking with a tenderness that 
weakened her defenses.
“You exist.” The gentle strokes his tongue applied to her pussy rippled through 
her. “Oh!” She cried out, unable to control the orgasm pulsating through her.
The ties around her wrists and ankles stretched against her skin, the desire to 
twist, to allow the orgasm to ride to its fullest extent, overwhelming her. But 
she couldn’t move, other than to twist her hips, which would only encourage 
Trev’s actions.
It was hard to speak. “Kopah is alive in you,” she managed to gasp out. If she 
could only keep her thoughts focused, she would be able to prevent Trev from 
turning her body against her mind.
And her mind knew Trev was the enemy, would always be the enemy. Nothing he 
could do to her would ever make her want him, or erase the fact that the two of 
them were not compatible. Their fathers had fought each other, and their fathers 
before them. Wars over sex slave rights, fair bargaining, proper breeding, had 
existed between the two families for generations. Their hatred for each other 
flowed in their blood. That couldn’t be changed.
At the moment though, she wished that it could. No man had ever lured her and 
taken her virginity. Of all the men who visited her father’s home, enjoyed his 
orgies, she’d never met one who’d turned her on—not like this. Trev of Kopah had 
her on the verge of begging to be fucked.
Trev straightened, leaving her pussy tingling, cold without the heat from his 
mouth. His grayish-lavender eyes studied her, searching for her inner thoughts. 
He wanted to know how he’d affected her, if his seductions worked. She stared 
back. Bound or not, he would know her as his equal, not some slut he could 
manipulate. No matter how he made her feel, she would never beg. Although damn, 
she sure as hell wanted to.
“I am Trev. There is no more Kopah. Everything is destroyed.” His gaze lowered 
to her breasts, his fingers tracing a path around her nipples. “Are you saying 
you despise me?”
He rolled her nipples between his thumb and finger, squeezing the sensitive 
flesh, sending bolts of electricity toward her throbbing pussy.
“You are my enemy.” She closed her eyes, needing to find something to focus on 
other than what he was doing to her. Her insides would melt from the heat, her 
resistance fading away. “Oh. Damn!” He pinched and released, pinched again then 
relaxed his grip, making her nipples the source of fire that burned straight to 
her cunt.
“I am not your enemy, Marla.” She could smell her cum on his breath. “Have I 
ever done anything to offend or hurt you?”
May the gods help her. No. Trev of Kopah had never harmed her. If anything, his 
incredible good looks had been more than a distraction whenever she’d seen him. 
The way he had always looked at her, silently letting her know that he wanted 
her, had only succeeded in making her think about him when she shouldn’t have 
been.
“You know that you haven’t.” She cried out when he sucked one of her nipples 
into his mouth. “Gods help me.” Her skin under the ties burned, her wrists and 
ankles pulling against her restraints while she arched into him.
His teeth scraped over her nipple, torturing the puckered flesh, ransacking her 
mind with the incredible urge to beg him to fuck her. Her pussy pounded with 
need, his sucking sending charged heat straight to her womb.
He straightened again. “I don’t think you and I are enemies.”
His voice was no more than a raw whisper. Opening her eyes, she had to see him, 
allowing a moment to pass so she could focus. Every inch of her body tingled 
with need. What was wrong with her that the only man in her life full of sex who 
made her want to give up her virginity was the one man she couldn’t have?
Pale brown curls fell around the hard features on his face. His grayish-lavender 
eyes penetrated her, their soft, glazed look peeling away at her defenses.
But he didn’t know the extent of the Bortan destruction. Neither of them did. 
Rational thought warred with her body’s craving for him. A brief lapse of lust, 
while bound and seduced, could haunt her once this horrific attack on her people 
had passed. She was Marla of Torl, not some slave or merchant’s daughter.
“I know what you’re trying to do, Trev.” She fought to slow her breathing, to 
force her body to cool down. “Taking advantage and fucking me won’t change 
anything.”
He must have seen her defenses build. Determination spread over his face, his 
lips forming into a tight line, while his eyes narrowed on her, like a hawk 
ready to attack his prey.
“Then tell me I am your enemy.” He pressed his body against her, allowing her to 
feel how hard his cock was. “Tell me how much you hate me.”
His breath tickled her neck, scorched the sensitive skin at her nape. Goose 
bumps raced over her skin when his fingers traced paths over her arms, reaching 
for her fingers. She gripped his hands, holding him stretched out against her.
Yes. Her father, now dead, had always despised Kopah. And no matter how much she 
accepted this, she couldn’t find hatred for him in her heart. Not even 
close—every inch of her wanted him.
“Tell me to leave you alone, Marla,” he whispered, his lips burning a path along 
her jawbone, until his mouth covered hers.
The fabric of his shirt brushed against her skin, his solid chest pressing her 
agonized breasts, rubbing her nipples. The wonderful torture made her itch to 
wrap her arms and legs around him, pull him even closer.
His cock thrust toward her pussy, mere fabric preventing him from penetrating 
her. And damnit to all of the hells, she wanted his cock buried deep inside her. 
The ache he’d created inside her built while his mouth moved over hers, his 
tongue brushing over her lips.
“Trev,” she murmured, opening her mouth, allowing his tongue to greet hers.
She couldn’t deny his kiss. He wanted her to declare him her enemy, but her 
heart found no enemy within him. His tongue swirled around her mouth, exploring, 
claiming, stating with actions what she refused to admit with words.
She clasped his hands tightly with her own, holding on to him as if she would 
fall if she let go.
“Tell me you’ve never wanted to do this,” he whispered into her mouth, leaving 
her gasping when he moved his mouth over to her ear.
Memories of seeing him at the auctions, watching him while her father cursed the 
Kopah name, flooded through her, creating even more of a desire to hold him to 
her. He’d been so tall, his clothing stretched over well-developed muscles, and 
had moved with a lazy stroll, his confidence and casual manner capturing the 
attention of all the young ladies. More than once she’d fought the urge to talk 
to him, flirt with him, make him see she could offer him more than any other 
tramp who hung on him. But that would have caused more than a scandal.
Trev raked his teeth over her earlobe.
“Oh gods,” she cried out before she could stop herself, the act sending tingles 
of denied desire rushing through her.
He freed his hands from hers, brushing over her skin with a touch that branded 
her, making her breathe harder, the fire inside her raging out of control. His 
hands gripped her breasts, pulling, squeezing, the pressure growing painful 
inside her cunt. He thrust his cock up against her pussy, her legs quivering, 
unable to wrap around him, stretched taut while the ties burned her ankles.
“What do you want from me?” She could take it no longer.
She arched her neck, squeezing her eyes shut while the flood of pent-up need, of 
cravings for a man she had been raised to hate, broke through her dam of 
resistance. Her orgasm ripped through her, cum soaking her cunt, her muscles 
clenching and relaxing.
“I just want you to acknowledge the truth.” His hands slid behind her, holding 
her ass, the strength of his grip pinning her to him.
She sagged into him when her orgasm ebbed, allowing him to hold her against him. 
The ties around her wrists and ankles burned less when she relaxed, every bit of 
her spent, her resistance washed away with the flow of her juices.
“Untie me, Trev.” She didn’t have the energy to say anything more.
Chapter Five
 
“What will you do if I untie you?” He sucked on one nipple, then on the other, 
his hands caressing her hips.
She had no idea what she would do. The aftershock of her orgasm still rippled 
through her. Deciding what to do next was too much work.
“The ties are rubbing my skin.” And more than anything she wanted to touch him, 
run her fingers over the hair on his chest.
The pressure began its slow torturous path once again, her pussy swelling while 
her mouth suddenly seemed too dry.
Trev’s expression turned serious, his gaze focusing on her wrists, and then her 
ankles. It was as if he’d suddenly realized her being stretched against the 
wall, bound so she couldn’t move, might just be a bit uncomfortable.
He knelt in front of her, his large hands encircling one of her ankles. Pale 
brown curls covered his forehead, preventing her from seeing his expression. He 
massaged her ankle, his hands moving up her leg before she realized he’d freed 
it.
Once her legs were untied, hanging unbound, her toes almost touching the cool, 
hard floor, the urge to wrap her legs around his neck, pulling his face to her 
pussy, consumed her.
It dawned on her that she could use her legs, wrapped around his neck, to try 
and maim him, disable her enemy. But she didn’t want to hurt him.
That realization brought her pause. All her life she’d accepted Trev as her 
enemy. Yet she couldn’t take him down. Once she had kicked his ass, and felt 
damned good about it. But his seductions had left her weak, crazy in the head, 
crazy with a need for him that overwhelmed her with its intensity.
It took more effort than she realized to bend her legs. She swore pins and 
needles tortured her feet. Trev took her legs, bending them, bringing her knees 
toward her chest, moving them slowly with the gentle care of a loving parent.
These thoughts of tenderness about her enemy baffled her. Trev should be 
watched, her back never turned on him. His seductions had made her brain as limp 
as her legs.
“The circulation will return in a moment.” He sounded rather sure of himself.
“You sound like you know a bit on the matter.” She wondered if she would be able 
to stand once he untied her arms. If not, she would continue to be at the mercy 
of her enemy.
But he didn’t feel like an enemy.
“I know a thing or two.” His grin caused her heart to skip a beat, the 
mischievous glint in his eyes almost covering his cautious expression. “Don’t 
tell me you’ve never been tied up before.”
She couldn’t believe he would think such a thing of her. “No. I haven’t.”
Her knees pressed against her chest, exposing her pussy and ass. He held her 
against the wall with his body, his fingers tickling her rear end. If only he 
would caress away the painful ache in her cunt.
“Of course not.” His hands ran up the backside of her legs, making her want to 
squirm against him. “Who would dare bind Marla of Torl?”
That made her sound so unapproachable. She almost told him the situation had 
just never come up—that no man had ever turned her on enough that she would 
consider doing this with him. But he gripped her ass, pulling her toward him, 
her backside leaving the wall. Her arms stretched, her head tipping backwards, 
while he pulled her pussy to his mouth. His fingers brushed over her small, 
tight asshole. She jumped, her body convulsing while a wave of pleasure over the 
sensitive area being touched rushed through her. Cum dripped from her, soaking 
her clear to her ass.
“You would dare.” The ties around her wrist rubbed against her skin, while her 
body stretched away from the wall.
Trev hadn’t hesitated in putting her in a situation no other man had ever 
attempted. They had no idea what lay outside these doors. Their world could be 
destroyed, all rules gone. Or the attack could be isolated, their status and 
rank intact. None of that appeared to matter to him.
His tongue inflicted wicked torture on her pussy, swiping at her clit, lapping 
the juices from her cunt. She exploded, her orgasm rushing through her with so 
much force she thought she would black out.
“Yes. I would.” Once again he stopped, leaving her to ride out her orgasm alone.
She almost didn’t have the energy to lift her head. Her body stretched from the 
wall, Trev gripping her hips, his mouth glistening from her cum, while he 
watched her try to regain her senses.
“I would break every law, every treaty, to help you see what you’ve denied for 
years.” His words shocked her. But she knew immediately what he meant.
Since they were teenagers, thrown into the business world of sex trading, taught 
how to run the trade that one day each of them would be in charge of, she had 
noticed him. Her worst enemy. The only person she should never turn her back on. 
Trev of Kopah was her nemesis.
Her father was dead. The slaves had run for their lives, their freedom given to 
them, although more than likely it would ensure their deaths. Everything she had 
was gone.
And here was this man, offering her something she never thought she could have. 
All she had to do was reach out and take it. That is, if he would untie her 
hands.
A rumbling sound outside caught both of their attention at the same time. Trev 
looked toward the door and then carefully lowered her legs. He untied her arms, 
slowly, standing close enough that she could lean against him.
Her arms wanted to float away, carrying her with them. Free from the ties, 
finally unbound, she found she could hardly move.
“The Bortan have returned.” He spoke her worst fears, but the rumbling of the 
aircraft grew closer outside.
“My clothes.” She stared at the shredded pile of material realizing she couldn’t 
put them back on. “All I have is my cloak.”
“Wrap it around you.” Trev picked it up for her, carefully covering her 
shoulders with the black material.
Before she could attempt walking, he scooped her into his arms, cradling her 
like a baby. “We stand a good chance if we can get to my glider.”
Her body still tingling with sexual need, she cuddled against his strong chest, 
finally feeling the heat of his body pressed against hers, just not as she had 
imagined doing so minutes before.
“It’s like nighttime out here.” Marla strained her neck, looking up toward the 
dark gray sky.
“The smoke from the fires has blocked out the suns.” Trev held her just outside 
the doorway to the medic’s house, the home where she’d been forced to admit her 
love for her enemy.
And now they would run for their lives—together.
She thanked the gods that his glider wasn’t too far away. Bortan hovered just 
above the clouds. She could hear their aircrafts. But due to their own 
destruction, they couldn’t see them through the smoke.
Trev straddled his glider, not putting her down first. She scooted around in 
front of him, searching for a comfortable position, when he grabbed her.
“Quit moving.” His tone sounded fierce.
The gray in his eyes had deepened to a shade of lavender, the sight of them 
making her womb tighten. There was no time. But she couldn’t stop herself from 
touching him, stroking his dirt-stained cheek.
“Thank you for saving my life.” His skin was smooth, her fingers tingling while 
she touched him.
“The price is high.” His grip around her tightened, crushing her to him.
This time she could kiss him back. And more than anything, that is what she 
wanted to do. He lowered his mouth to hers, his body touching hers everywhere.
The sensation of being naughty, of getting caught if she weren’t careful, surged 
through her. The heat of his mouth burnt her lips, while memories of her father 
cursing the Kopah name flooded her thoughts.
His hair was coarse, thick against her fingers. She tangled her hands in his 
locks, pulling his head closer, craving to taste every inch of his mouth. What 
had the Kopah done to deserve her father’s wrath? She wasn’t sure. But this man 
had never wronged her.
“Marla.” Her name on his breath brought her insides to a boil, her pussy craving 
relief. “Marla,” he said again, ending the kiss. “We need to get out of here.”
She wasn’t sure she wanted to know what the rest of their world looked like, if 
the villages nearby remained or not. Trev had worked magic on her, made her 
realize how desperately she wanted him. If the outside world remained, would he 
turn his back on her? What would she do then?
Chapter Six
 
After an hour of flying, she no longer worried about Trev, but focused on the 
destruction of the world beneath her. Nothing remained. Villages burned. The 
colorful countryside was now singed black.
Her people, the slaves she had loved and helped raise, the merchants she had 
visited weekly, the townspeople who had worked for her father, everyone was 
gone, dead.
“There is nothing here for us.” Trev guided her back toward the glider after 
landing at the third village in the region.
“Someone has to be alive somewhere.” Very few buildings stood. The rank smell of 
burning flesh turned her stomach.
Trev’s expression was hard, his thoughts not clear to her by his expression. His 
gaze was fierce though. He squinted while he scanned the remains of smoldering 
structures around them.
“I’m sure they are alive.” He braced the glider while she climbed on in front of 
him. “More than likely, any survivors are well hidden, and will remain that way 
until they are sure the Bortan are gone.”
By the time they’d reached the region’s capital, the second sun had set, 
darkness settling in around them.
“There is a shuttle launcher here.”
She glanced over her shoulder at him. Did he mean for them to leave the planet? 
Granted nothing appeared to be left here for either of them, and he was as 
homeless as she was, but where would they go? She didn’t know any outworlders. 
Her life was here. Or the life she’d known up until the Bortan had taken it all 
away.
“What good would a shuttle launcher do us?” Not to mention she was naked under 
her cloak. She didn’t want to dwell on the explanations Trev might offer for 
flying with a naked companion.
He adjusted her against him, his long legs pressing against hers, while one arm 
held her in place. The glider hummed underneath her, while they circled the 
community beneath them. The buildings seemed intact, but no people were visible. 
It didn’t seem right for a community of this size to look so abandoned.
“We’re an open target up here.” Trev circled lower, hovering along steep hills 
that surrounded the community.
He didn’t answer her question about the launcher.
“Do you think there are Bortan down there?” Her stomach clenched at the thought, 
bile rising in her throat. “We probably aren’t safe anywhere.”
He ran his hand up her front, stroking her breast. “We’ll be safer once we wear 
different clothes.”
“I don’t have any clothes.” Like she needed to tell him that.
His hand moved from one breast to the other, making her wish more than anything 
that they could find some isolated place. He pinched her nipple, pleasure and 
pain rippling through her.
“And I wish I could keep you that way.” His breath tickled the nape of her neck, 
almost bringing her to the point where she wished it, too.
But she knew how men treated women. They needed to be reminded at times when 
they were with a woman of class, and not a sex slave.
“Well, you can’t.” She turned just enough to glare into those gray-lavender 
eyes. “I suggest you land this thing and see if we can find something for me to 
wear.”
Something triggered in his expression, and she realized she hadn’t taken the 
upper hand with him yet. Her gut tightened, hoping what she saw wasn’t 
disapproval.
But if he couldn’t handle her being able to command a situation, wouldn’t it be 
best for her to find out now, before she became too involved with him?
She held on to the inside of her cape, keeping it wrapped tightly around her, 
while they ventured down one of the streets of the region capital. She’d never 
been to Grok before, although her father had been here, and shared stories of 
how lively a community it was. It didn’t look too lively now.
“This looks like a clothes store.” Trev pushed open the door to one of the 
merchants’ shops, his laser in hand. “Find something you like. I’m going to see 
if anyone is here.”
“What do you want?” A man appeared through a doorway, aiming a laser at them, a 
woman hovering behind him.
Trev straightened, lowering his own laser just a bit, but taking the stance of 
upper society. “It’s okay. The lady needs clothes. We’ll pay for them.”
She didn’t have any money on her. Trev had to realize that. She was at his mercy 
to provide for her at the moment. If that bothered him, he gave no indication of 
it.
“You’re Trev of Kopah.” The man immediately lowered his gun, his entire 
expression changing. “Maycha, help the lady find something suitable to wear.”
By the time she had dressed, her new clothes simple, but serving their purpose, 
Several men stood around Trev, all of them chatting quietly. He turned, reaching 
for her, when she approached.
“We’ll meet you at the launch site at second sunup then.” He nodded to the men 
then escorted her from the store.
“Where are we going?” Darkness surrounded them, giving the empty street an eerie 
feeling.
“I think we would be safer staying the night in one of the surrounding caves.” 
He held her close to him, the warmth of his body traveling through her. “These 
people have lost a lot and might be a bit too desperate.”
“You don’t trust them?” She wondered where he was taking her, their walk 
purposeful, and his hand on her shoulder making her crave his touch in other 
places. “Then why are we meeting them at this launch site? And where are we 
going?”
Several people appeared around the corner of the building ahead of them, took a 
look in their direction, and then fled the opposite way. Fear gripped her, their 
actions appearing so suspicious.
“There is nothing left of Poltar, Marla.” He sounded sad, a reluctant acceptance 
that their home world would soon be destroyed. She doubted he wanted to believe 
it any more than she did. “We won’t be the only ones leaving on the shuttle. And 
we’ll go to the Molten satellite, apparently where everyone else who can afford 
to leave is going.”
She couldn’t think of any argument. Trev had taken her under his wing. Granted 
she liked how it felt, but was she there because she had no place else to go? Or 
did she want to be by his side?
Chapter Seven
 
Trev used her cape, along with a single blanket he had with him, to cover the 
floor of the small cave. The indention in the rocky hill barely served as 
protection, but it shielded the elements, and prevented anyone from sneaking up 
behind them while they slept. Although he doubted they would sleep much tonight.
“I know this isn’t what you are accustomed to.” He wasn’t either. If he didn’t 
plan on fucking her through most of the night, he doubted he would be able to 
stand the bumpy surface of the cave floor, or its slimy sides. Not to mention 
the fact that they were barely sheltered.
“Nothing that’s happened today is what I’m accustomed to.” She sounded grouchy, 
maybe a bit pouty.
She stood, arms crossed, in her new clothes that did nothing for the incredible 
figure hidden underneath. The store they had purchased the items from catered to 
the working people of Grok, not the elite class. But the plain tan pants, and 
loose-fitting black shirt made her nondescript. He feared that mattered more 
given their circumstances, than advertising her true identity. There was no way 
to predict what would be in store for them once they left Poltar.
“Best get accustomed to it.” He wouldn’t give her details of how things might 
end up. For tonight, they would make the best of their accommodations.
“It doesn’t appear that I have much of a choice.” There was worry in those pale 
gray eyes. She studied the makeshift bed he’d created, not looking at him.
“Come here.” Even through her loose-fitting shirt, he could see her nipples 
harden, those adorable soft brown nubs that he ached to put his mouth around.
Her look was wary. “This isn’t exactly what I had in mind,” she muttered, 
dropping to her knees.
“What did you have in mind?” He wanted to touch her, craved feeling her body 
pressed against his.
“A hot bath would be nice.” Her small smile surprised him, but he accepted it as 
a good sign.
He had no resistance when it came to Marla. Clean or dirty, tonight she was his. 
Regardless of their future, he would live out the fantasies he’d enjoyed in his 
youth. He had to touch her, just a brush of his fingers through her hair, 
feeling the warmth of her cheek.
But even as he tried to deny it, Trev knew tonight wouldn’t be enough. Marla was 
his. Since his youth he’d known she was the one he wanted. As he’d grown older, 
he’d tried to tell himself she was simply the forbidden fruit, his desires for 
her the result of knowing she was the one woman he couldn’t have.
Looking down at her, he knew that wasn’t true. He could have her—he would have 
her. And he would want her again and again.
Her lashes fluttered over her hesitant gaze, those beautiful eyes watching him.
“I want to give you something.” The corners of her mouth perked up, the sparkle 
in her eyes showing how she interpreted his comment. “Oh. I’m going to give you 
that too, lady. But first…”
“What?” She watched with curiosity when he reached for his belt, pulling the 
small bag free that held everything he’d been able to grab from Kopah before it 
burned to the ground.
“This is for you.” He handed her the bills, half of the money he’d managed to 
get his hands on before fleeing his home. “In case we are separated, I want you 
to be able to take care of yourself.”
Her gaze met his, emotion swarming in her gray orbs. She took a minute before 
reacting. “Thank you.”
Accepting the stack of money he pressed in her hand, she rolled it up, then 
stuffed it in one of her pant’s pockets. “Do you think Poltar money will be good 
anywhere else?”
Apparently she had given thought to what it might be like once they left their 
home. He would see to it that she was taken care of, but he wouldn’t offer false 
promises. “I have no idea.”
She adjusted herself on the bedding, stretching her legs. Barely enough 
moonlight spread over her, but his eyes had adjusted enough to watch her silky 
white hair brush over her shoulder when she leaned her head back. He craved 
tasting the nape of her neck, exposed and easily accessed. His cock jerked at 
the thought of ripping her buttons off with his teeth.
“Do you know what you are doing to me?” He took a strand of hair between his 
fingers, relishing the softness of it.
That small grin he was starting to adore appeared. “What am I doing to you?”
She leaned on her hands, but he took her wrist anyway, placing her hand over his 
hard cock. “This is what you do to me, Marla. Every time I’ve seen you, as long 
as I’ve known who you were. This is how you make me feel.”
Her fingers pressed against his shaft, the slight pressure causing every muscle 
in his body to jerk, his need for her turning dangerous.
She turned, facing him, her face flushed with curiosity. Those hesitant fingers 
wrapped around his cock, his pants preventing him from feeling her soft hand.
“I need you, baby.” He tangled her hair around his fingers when he pulled her 
toward him. “You have no idea for how long.”
“Why didn’t you tell me before?” Her whispered question, soft and caressing, 
matched the touch of her hand.
“I thought you despised me.” It took a moment to focus on her face, her 
expression cautious, yet he detected willingness. “I needed to show you what the 
two of us have been missing.”
“Show me some more.” Her invitation was all he needed to hear.
His hands shook when he reached for her shirt, barely able to free the buttons 
before he simply ripped it from her body. In the darkness, the detail of her 
tattoos wasn’t as clear, but the contrast of the dark ornamentation next to her 
creamy white skin made her full round breasts stand out more. They were so soft, 
so full and round. He pulled her onto his lap, needing to taste her, knowing he 
had to have her closer to him before his blood boiled to a point of madness.
He tasted one nipple, loving how the skin puckered against his lips.
“Damn. Trev.” Her breath caught, her words lost in a gasp.
He squeezed both breasts, pulling them close, pressing her nipples to his mouth, 
sucking on one and then the other. Her crotch was against his cock, the heat 
from her scalding him. He had to be inside her soon, had to experience what he’d 
been denied all these years.
“Get out of your clothes.” He didn’t want to be rough. Her torture session had 
ended.
“I want to see you this time.” She leaned back on the bedding, tugging at her 
pants.
“Oh you will, lady. You are going to see, and feel, all of me.” His hands were 
all thumbs while he struggled out of his shirt, ripped at his pants, feeling way 
too anxious to thrust his cock into her pussy.
Her white hair framed her face beautifully while large gray eyes watched him 
undress. He loved how she lay there naked, her nipples so hard, the scent of her 
cream filling the small cave. He knew he was fit, that his body attracted women. 
But the wave of satisfaction that rippled through him when her eyes widened at 
the sight of his cock, made his groin clench with pain. There wouldn’t be time 
for much foreplay before he stabbed his way inside her.
“I’m impressed,” she said coyly, that adorable smile making him dizzy.
She didn’t hesitate, reaching out and taking his cock, pulling it toward her, 
gripping the life from him. “Come here,” she whispered, and he was hers to 
command.
“Marla. Praise the gods!” Her hot, tight mouth wrapped around him, sucking him 
into a pool of humidity more intense than he’d ever imagined.
Everything around him went black. White lights flashed like lightning before his 
eyes. His body clenched, while her mouth worked magic he didn’t know existed. 
She leaned forward, burying her face against his cock, her hair tickling his 
hips. He held her head, wanting desperately to pound his cock deep inside her, 
feel her throat constrict around him.
“If you don’t stop, I swear I will fuck the shit out of your face.” He would 
warn her, allow her the opportunity to stop.
But she didn’t. Her tongue swirled around him, her lips stretching over him, 
inviting him to plunge. Holding her hair, gripping her so she couldn’t move, he 
thrust forward, feeling the heat of her mouth while he sunk deep inside her. 
Again and again he drove his cock past her tongue, the tightness of her throat 
making him swell. Pressure built that wouldn’t be stopped if he didn’t act soon.
But he’d warned her. Never would he do anything to her that she didn’t want. 
That mouth of hers begged to be fucked though. She encouraged him to go deeper, 
sucking him further into her mouth.
He thrust into her heat, feeling her throat constrict around him. Nothing he’d 
experienced had ever come close to this. Trev had grown up surrounded by 
experienced sex slaves, trained at an early age to know how to please with every 
part of their bodies. Yet none of them came close to making him feel the way 
Marla made him feel now.
Pulling out as far as he could stand it, he drove deep into her mouth again. She 
willingly took him, holding on tight with her hands gripping his hips, her tight 
grip branding him with its heat. Building the momentum, he fucked her mouth 
until he could take the pleasure no more.
Fire erupted deep inside him while he spilled his seed over her tongue, filling 
her mouth with his cum. The thick cream spilled over her lips and still she 
lapped at him, doing her best to take as much of it as she could.
“Trev.” She gasped for air when he pulled out of her mouth.
Cold air wrapped around his cock, her moist heat fading way too fast from his 
shaft.
“Lay back. Now.” His cock danced a painful dance when she eagerly spread out 
beneath him, more than ready to cum again. He was still hard as a rock.
“I want you to know,” she breathed when he placed his cock against the heat of 
her pussy.
“What?” He was blind with need, unable to make conversation. But her expression 
turned so serious, he burned inside while he paused to hear her words.
“I’ve wanted you for years also.” She searched his face quickly for his 
reaction, her gray eyes darting from his eyes to his mouth, and back to meet his 
gaze again.
“Well now you have me.” He sank inside her, the slick walls of her cunt parting.
Looking up at him, her eyes glazed over with passion, a small smile made her 
expression glow.
The world around him faded into meaningless nothing. Never before had he 
experienced a pussy so warm, so tight, so incredibly wet. He hadn’t prepared 
her, hadn’t taken the time to enjoy her sweet juices like he had earlier that 
day. But she was so damned wet, absorbing his cock with an eagerness that 
consumed every inch of him.
He pulled back, the walls of her cunt constricting around him, then thrust 
again. Her mouth formed a perfect, little round circle, her hands reaching for 
her breasts, squeezing them. The barrier broke, allowing him deeper inside her, 
going where no man had gone before. He buried himself in her heat, her muscles 
clinging to him, soaking him with her juices. She’d been a fucking virgin. Marla 
had never been fucked before. Knowing that filled him with so much joy he almost 
came right there on the spot.
But he wouldn’t let her first time end without giving her the pleasure she 
deserved. With each thrust she twisted and tugged at her breasts, making the 
most adorable cooing sounds he’d ever heard.
“Fuck me forever, Trev.” She gasped again, biting her lip when he gave her all 
that he had, pounding her while his cock burned from her heat.
“Forever is all the time we have.” His breath was ragged as her heat flushed 
through him.
His cock swelled, unable to hold out any longer. He buried himself deep inside 
her one last time then released his seed, waves rushing through him while he 
emptied his semen in her womb.
His dream fulfilled, he fell to the side of her, pulling her up against him. She 
had told him she’d always wanted him, too. There were no answers about what lay 
ahead of them tomorrow. But tonight, happiness like he’d never known engulfed 
him. And it would last forever, even though he didn’t know how long that would 
be.
 
Waking up, the hard ground underneath them, the first thing Trev noticed was 
Marla sprawled over him, her breasts pressing against his chest. Her thin legs 
stretched against his, her warmth encompassing him, burning through him like a 
fever to his brain.
Everything inside Trev hardened when her fingers wrapped around his cock, 
bringing him to life instantly.
“Are you awake?” Her words were barely a whisper, although they cut through the 
silence in the cave.
Trev blinked, focusing slowly as he looked down at her luscious body draped over 
his, her small hand working wonders on his cock.
“You want more of that?” He couldn’t believe that she would but his heart pumped 
harder with the knowledge that she was so eager to fuck.
“Uh huh.” She stroked his shaft slowly, her fingers gliding up and down his 
flesh, hardening him to stone.
“You sure you can handle it?” He moved quickly, knowing if he allowed her to 
continue with her playing, he would explode before satisfying her.
“Trev.” The way she gasped his name when he pinned her underneath him sent fire 
to his brain. The soft curve of her ass made his cock throb with need.
Grabbing her hands, pinning them alongside her head, his cock settled into the 
soft crease of her ass.
She arched into him, the heat from her pussy, her sweet juices, already soaking 
her smooth skin. The fresh cream from her cunt clung to his shaft as he slid 
against her round ass and pussy, burying himself next to her tight little holes. 
Her cum wrapped around his shaft, dripping from her, offering a natural 
lubricant.
“You want me bad, don’t you, baby?” His voice was too gravelly, his need to bury 
himself deep in her heat overwhelming him.
“I woke up craving you,” she whispered, lifting her head so she could look up at 
him. “Please, Trev. It hurts, I want you so bad.”
He understood that pain, knew that longing. For years he had watched her, 
dreaming about her, aching to fuck her. And now she was his, calling out his 
name. Nothing mattered at the moment other than seeing to her pleasure, giving 
her all that he’d wanted to for such a long time.
More than anything he wanted to dive deep into her heat, hear her scream his 
name. His muscles clenched when he shifted to the side, forcing his cock to 
behave as it throbbed furiously.
“Tell me what you want,” he whispered, enjoying the arch of her back and the way 
she froze when he ran his fingers over her soaked hole.
“Everything. All of you,” she whimpered, her desire showing in how she pleaded.
She was so wet, the rich scent of her lust filled the small cave. It was barely 
morning. Hardly any light trickled through the concealed entrance. Yet her soft 
curves, her sensual tattoos, made her a beautiful sight to behold.
Her wet pussy clamped around his finger when he glided through her heat, the 
soft muscles sucking him in, willing him to enter further. Trev worked to 
exhale, her lust saturating him, blinding him with a ferocity he’d never known 
before.
 “That pussy definitely needs my cock.” He pulled out, anxiously seeking the 
smaller hole that puckered eagerly against his touch. “And how about here? Maybe 
you aren’t as tender here?”
The way she cried out when he pressed against her tight hole, he knew she would 
open willingly for him. His cock burned, the throbbing pain too much for him to 
bear.
“Yes. Oh please, Trev. You’re teasing me.” She squirmed against him, her round 
ass swaying when he slid his finger, slick with her juices, into her tight hole.
His finger burned from her fire, the intensity of her heat rushing through his 
hand, through his body, hitting his cock and causing pain that about did him in. 
Never had an ass felt so tight, so wet from her juices. More cum seeped from her 
cunt when he plowed his finger deeper into her ass.
“That’s it, baby.” He could barely speak. “Ride my hand. Show me what you want.”
Small squirts of cream escaped his cock. He grabbed his shaft, lubricating 
himself with his pre-cum while he twisted his finger deeper inside her.
Her body jerked, a tremble rushing through her as her orgasm crushed the breath 
from her with a sharp gasp. He slid his finger out, positioning himself behind 
her, pulling her up on to her hands and knees so that her soaked cunt and ass 
stared up at him, begging for his pleasure.
Grabbing his cock, he pressed it against her ass, watching the tight puckered 
hole grip his cockhead, encourage his entrance. She was wetter than she’d been 
last night, her fire penetrating through him, urging him on.
Sliding into her, his world crashed in around him, her heat threatening to boil 
him alive.
“Marla.” His whole world was about her. “Damn, woman.”
“Fuck me,” she cried out, her voice raspy, a sensual sound that shuddered 
through him. She tossed her head, her hair fanning over her shoulders. “Damnit. 
Fuck me, Trev.”
He was her willing slave. Diving into her heat, scalding himself alive, he 
buried his cock deep into her ass. She would suffocate him, tear him apart with 
her passion, her craving. Marla was on fire.
Her muscles stretched and then constricted around his cock, suffocating him, a 
volcano of heat erupting that would do him in.
An untamed fire burned deep inside him while he moved slowly in and out of her. 
He gripped her ass, the soft flesh spreading while his cock disappeared inside 
her soaked, tight hole.
“Damn.” She squeezed her eyes shut, her body convulsing as she came yet again. 
“Damnit to all the hells. Faster. Harder.”
She wanted a good pounding. The ache in her burned through her body, making her 
tremble, just as it did through him.
“You’re on fire, baby.” He moved a hand underneath her, patting her cunt, 
feeling her cream soak his fingers.
Her cum was better than any lubricant. Gritting his teeth, he paused his savage 
thrusting, slipping a finger into the cream to spread around her stretched and 
glistening hole. With a groan, he slipped in again, the movement smooth as silk. 
Sliding easily in and out of her, the heat built inside him, torturing him, 
threatening to drain him of all that he had.
“I need more,” she begged, tossing her head, her hair clinging to her face.
Her words brought the fire inside him to the exploding point. Pressure so 
intense that he couldn’t see, couldn’t hear, could barely breathe, rushed 
through him. His cock burned, swelling. Grabbing her ass so hard it had to hurt, 
he buried himself deep inside her, spilling his seed into her hot little cavern.
“Damnit, Trev,” she exhaled, collapsing onto their bedding. “If I had known it 
would be this good…”
She didn’t finish, but she didn’t have to. He pulled out slowly, taking a minute 
to enjoy how his cum seeped out of her sweet ass. He knew what she meant. They 
had both waited a long time to know such perfection.
Chapter Eight
 
Marla rolled over, the hard surface underneath her immediately poking against 
her uncomfortably. Sitting took more effort than she thought, sore muscles 
retaliating throughout her body. She reached for her shoulder, working the 
muscles, while her inner thigh muscles quivered and her cunt and ass tingled.
“I’m not sure we’ll have time to eat before we head out to the shuttle.” Trev 
stood just outside the cave, looking down at her, his expression dark and 
worried.
He turned away from her before she could respond. Marla stood, combing her 
tangles free from her hair with her fingers. She studied Trev’s backside while 
dressing, wondering what his thoughts were.
“If you have any regrets about last night, Trev of Kopah, I swear I will have 
you quartered.” Her threat made him turn around.
He reached for her cape, holding it so she could slide her arms through after 
dressing. “You and what army, my dear.”
His sad but true comment made her want to sit down and cry, have a really good 
tantrum. She had no army, no slaves, no one at all in the world. Her father was 
dead. All of Torl was gone. Her thoughts welled up inside her, rising like 
bitter bile into her throat.
“If you do regret it,” she said, turning after her cape was secure over her 
clothes. She looked him square in the eye, not willing to show her pain. “That 
is fine. We can work together to find a safe haven and then go our separate 
ways.”
Trev studied her for a moment, his mouth forming a thin line. “You try and get 
away from me and I promise you, I will chase you to the end of the universe.”
She couldn’t help but smile, tears welling in her eyes in spite of her efforts 
to be strong. “That might be fun.”
His expression relaxed immediately and he grabbed her arms, guiding her toward 
the exit of the small cave. When they reached his glider he turned her, pulling 
her into his arms.
“Don’t be scared,” he whispered into her hair.
Marla relaxed against his chest, needing his strength. His arms tightened around 
her, his scent, a mixture of the cave and remnants of something sweet lingering 
in his clothing, wrapped around her. More than anything she wanted him to just 
hold her. She wanted to escape inside the security and comfort of his body, feel 
him inside her again. But now wasn’t the time, and she wasn’t sure when their 
next time alone would be.
Sighing, she pulled away, looking up into his brooding expression. “I’m not 
scared. Nothing worse can happen.”
Trev didn’t answer, but helped her onto the glider. Within minutes they hovered 
over Grok, or what was left of it. Smoke still filtered into the air from more 
than one location, and very few people were noticeable.
“Do you think most are dead?” she asked, searching the streets for survivors.
“For their sake, I hope so. There is nothing left here.”
She shivered, remorse for her home world once again filling her with an 
emptiness she could hardly endure.
More people stood anxiously around several shuttles than Marla had seen since 
the attacks. People from all walks of life had gathered, talking in hushed 
whispers. She ignored them, knowing they were all here for the same reason, and 
walked alongside Trev to the man who appeared to be in charge.
“We need passage to the Molten satellite.” Trev spoke with the calm authority of 
one who wasn’t used to his word being questioned.
“Don’t we all.” Someone next to them spoke up, a dark-haired man with his woman 
clinging to him, a toddler in her arms.
“The shuttles will only seat twenty.” The man who appeared to be in charge held 
a stack of money in his hands, glancing around at the group gathering. “We’ll 
take who we can today, and come back tomorrow to see who else wants to leave.”
“Everyone wants to leave,” a woman shouted from behind Marla. “You’ll take those 
with money and leave the rest of us behind.”
The man in charge shrugged, turning away from all of them to say something to 
another man, who appeared to be piloting one of the shuttles.
Marla looked around at the group. Very few here looked like they had much money. 
They were the lucky ones, if that was what they wanted to call it, who had 
managed to escape the wrath of the Bortan. She saw merchants, slaves, 
townspeople, all of them dirty, all of them huddled with their loved ones.
There were three shuttles, and easily more than sixty people present. And the 
woman behind her had been right, the shuttle pilots would allow the highest 
bidders transport and leave the rest behind without a thought.
“Marla of Torl.” A man next to her touched her arm, saying her name quietly.
Trev pulled her to him, his manner quickly showing the man that she had 
protection. The man smiled, nodding to Trev, understanding the silent statement 
of ownership.
“I knew your father. Torl is not with you?” The man glanced around them, his 
fine clothing torn and dirty.
“Torl is dead.” She managed the words without choking, although they left a 
nasty taste in her mouth. The sinking feeling in her stomach weighed too heavy. 
How many times would she have to say those words?
The man lowered his head, silently mourning his friend. “Where are you headed?”
“To the Molten satellite. Where else is there?” she asked.
“Go to Benox.” The man looked from her to Trev. “Land there should be cheap and 
it would be your best bet for starting over. There is nothing on the satellite 
but tourist attractions and high prices. But for the two of you, your life is 
ahead of you, strike out and make something of yourselves. Benox has little 
government. The King there rules only a small portion of the planet. You could 
do well there.”
Someone said something to the man and he turned away, looking over his shoulder 
as he left. “Good luck to you, Marla of Torl. May the gods be with you.”
People started shoving their way into the closest shuttle, and Trev pulled Marla 
to the side.
“Come with me.” He led her around the first shuttle, and walked past the second 
until they reached the third, parked on the far side of the field.
The morning suns’ heat already made the air ahead of them drift heavily, the 
brightness making Marla squint when she looked at the bright shuttle.
“Who owns this shuttle?” Trev grabbed the attention of the only man in sight, 
who appeared to be making some adjustments to the engine.
“We’re private carriers, all of us.” The man stood, standing taller than Trev 
with a piercing gaze that focused first on Trev, and then her.
“So you are the owner?” Trev looked past the man, taking in the shuttle as if it 
were merchandise on the market square.
“It ain’t for sale.” The man squared his long, thin arms across his wiry build, 
spreading his stance to shoulder width.
“Everything is for sale, my man.” Trev waved his hand in the air dismissively at 
the man’s comment and walked past him toward the entrance of the carrier. “How 
many will it sit?”
“It sits twenty, just like the rest of them. What are you about?” Now the man 
sounded irritated.
Marla grabbed his attention. “Do you have any idea who we are?” she asked the 
man. “I am Marla of Torl, daughter of the largest sex breeder plantation on 
Poltar.”
She knew Trev might dispute which plantation was actually larger, but he 
wouldn’t challenge her at the moment.
“We need transport, but we don’t want to go to the satellite.” Her words had the 
man’s attention.
“And where is it that you want to go?” he asked.
Trev came up alongside them, placing his hand on her shoulder. “We want to go to 
Benox. We need a shuttle, with a skilled driver.” He nodded toward the growing 
crowd barely visible beyond the other two shuttles. “Word is that you are the 
best here.”
His little white lie sold the man. The driver puffed out his thin chest, smiling 
a toothless smile. “Been flying since I was a boy. But Benox will cost you.”
“I realize that.” Again Trev dismissed the man’s words as trivial with a wave of 
his hand. “But my price will include your services for a time. This job will 
require more than you just dropping us off there. If we are to build anew we 
will need transport.”
“I don’t come cheap.” The man now sized up Trev, more than likely determining 
how much money he might be able to take him for.
Marla glanced back at the crowd. She and Trev could make this work, if Benox was 
all that the man who had known her father claimed it was. Both of them knew how 
to run a plantation, but they would need help.
“We need to have workers.” She continued to study the crowd.
Trev seemed to read her thoughts. “Go among them. Choose carefully. Find those 
with skills to do a variety of tasks.”
Marla nodded, comfortable with her assignment. Hiring workers, delegating jobs 
was something she had done all of her life.
By the time the suns burned halfway up the sky, a small group stood around the 
shuttle, now owned by Trev of Kopah, and spoke with more enthusiasm than any of 
them had when they arrived. Hope filled the air for the first time, the 
possibility of something better existing for most of them.
Marla had found a few of her slaves, and had assured them that they would have 
their freedom and work for their keep. She knew those she had chosen knew 
nothing about how to work, their sole means for existence merely to please 
others with their bodies, but they wouldn’t survive on their own. And they 
showed willingness to work.
She had done her own share of working too by the time the shuttle was loaded 
with supplies and the small group strapped down inside for their journey. 
Turning into the brightness of the sun, she wiped her brow and stared across the 
field, realizing quite possibly she was looking at Poltar for the last time.
Trev’s hard body pressed against her backside, his firm grip sliding up her arms 
until he squeezed her shoulders.
“You asked me if I had any regrets, but you never said if you did.” His words 
brushed across her cheek on his warm breath.
She squinted against the suns, leaning back against him. “And you never answered 
me, not really.”
“I have no regrets. I told you that you are who I’ve wanted since I was a boy.” 
He crossed his arms over her chest, solid muscle pressing against her breasts.
For the first time in the past couple of hours, her body stirred to life, an 
ache quickly growing inside her for this man whom she loved.
“It’s all too much, Trev.” She let her gaze travel over the hills. Somewhere up 
there was the cave where they had spent the night. “I regret my father’s death. 
I regret the loss of Torl. But I wouldn’t be with you now if they still 
existed.”
“True.” He turned her around then, brushing his rough hand over her cheek while 
he penetrated her with soft gray-lavender eyes. “But who is to say if we 
wouldn’t have found each other without the loss of Poltar.”
“It didn’t happen that way though.” She leaned into his hand, feeling his power, 
and knowing his physical strength was only part of what she loved about him. 
“The gods have given us each other so that we may start anew together.”
“Then you will stay by my side? Mate with me?”
Something inside her broke, the sadness seeming to wash away like a smooth 
river, taking her misery downstream.
“You are asking me to bond with you? Be your mate for life?” Her heart picked up 
a beat, her insides filling with a rush of happiness she hadn’t experienced 
other than being in his arms the night before.
“Yes, I am.” He cupped her cheeks, making it so all she could focus on was his 
face. “We have a challenge ahead of us. Our future is unknown. But together, you 
and I will make a success out of whatever we do. And Marla, I knew the moment I 
lost Kopah that you were it for me. There were no second thoughts when I left my 
home in search of you. You are my life mate. Say that I am yours.”
“Yes.” And she knew in her heart that he had been for many years. “You are my 
life mate.”
She reached for him, running her fingers through his hair, pulling him to her. 
And he willingly obliged, kissing her with so much passion that he washed all of 
her fears, all of her worries away. Whatever their future held, it would be a 
success, because she would walk through it with Trev of Kopah by her side.



O'Clare, Lorie - Sex Slaves 02 - Waiting For Yesterday (v1.0)







 
WAITING FOR YESTERDAY
An Ellora’s Cave Publication, November 2004
 
Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.
1337 Commerce Drive, #13
Stow,OH44236-0787
 ISBN MS Reader (LIT) ISBN # 1-4199-0070-6
Other available formats (no ISBNs are assigned):
Adobe (PDF), Rocketbook (RB), Mobipocket (PRC) HTML
 
WAITING FOR YESTERDAY © 2004 LORIE O’CLARE
 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book may not be reproduced in whole or in part 
without permission.
 
This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, 
or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. They are productions of the 
authors’ imagination and used fictitiously.
 
Edited bySue-Ellen Gower.
Cover art bySyneca .
 
Warning:
 
The following material contains graphic sexual content meant for mature readers. 
Waiting For Yesterday has been rated E–rotic by a minimum of three independent 
reviewers.
 
Ellora’s Cave Publishing offers three levels of Romantica™ reading 
entertainment: S (S-ensuous), E (E-rotic), and X (X-treme).
 
S-ensuouslove scenes are explicit and leave nothing to the imagination.
E-roticlove scenes are explicit, leave nothing to the imagination, and are high 
in volume per the overall word count. In addition, some E-rated titles might 
contain fantasy material that some readers find objectionable, such as bondage, 
submission, same sex encounters, forced seductions, and so forth. E-rated titles 
are the most graphic titles we carry; it is common, for instance, for an author 
to use words such as “fucking”, “cock”, “pussy”, and such within their work of 
literature.
X-tremetitles differ from E-rated titles only in plot premise and storyline 
execution. Unlike E-rated titles, stories designated with the letter X tend to 
contain controversial subject matter not for the faint of heart.
Waiting For Yesterday
Lorie O’Clare
  Chapter One
 
The sound of Dree’s footsteps echoed in the wide hallway. She didn’t care. Let 
them discover her here. It wouldn’t matter now if they beat her to death, 
whipped her badly enough to leave scars, tortured her until she didn’t remember 
her name. There were some things she simply would not put up with. And His 
Majesty was about to hear about it.
Dree of Torl didn’t care if she had less rank than the dirty boys who scrubbed 
the kitchen floors, scampering for scraps to take home to their families. The 
elite on this planet didn’t give a rat’s ass about anyone beneath them. And that 
was a fairly large population. King Sorale of Benox, this filthy planet she now 
called home, didn’t care about any of them.
That was about to change.
“Dree. No.” The hushed voice startled her.
Dree squinted into the shadows near one of the large windows. “Bean. Is that 
you?” The gaunt man leaned against the wall as he moved toward her. “What are 
you doing here?”
Then she saw the material drenched in blood wrapped loosely around his hand. 
“What happened to you?”
Dree reached for him, but Bean pulled his injured hand closer to his bare chest, 
avoiding her touch.
“Where are you going?” He ignored her question.
“King Sorale’s guards just beat Dela. All she did was not move fast enough.” 
Dree felt her anger rage through her all over again at how they had treated the 
poor Benox woman.
Bean shook his head. “Don’t risk your life over one of them. The people of Benox 
don’t care about themselves. And they care less about us.” He raised his blood 
soaked hand, the rag wrapped around it appearing to be his shirt. “I just lost a 
finger because I accidentally touched the King’s food while serving him. He’s 
insane, Dree. Don’t go in there.”
Dree looked down the large hallway toward the solid wooden doors at the other 
end. The King’s court was on the other side, carefully closed in so that he 
wouldn’t have to endure the stench of the world he ruled. She hated him so much 
she shook from the intensity of it.
“Dree. Don’t.” Bean’s soft-spoken words were meant to persuade her away.
But returning her attention to him, seeing how atrophied he was without his 
shirt on, hardly any muscle clinging to his protruding bones, she couldn’t stop 
now. Bean could have been a good-looking man, a strong man. But neglect and fear 
had turned him into a fading shadow of what could have been.
“You need to get that looked at.” She nodded to his hand.
Once again he pressed it to his chest. “Don’t worry about me. Take care of 
yourself. You face a fate that would make you beg for death if you go in there.”
His words made her insides tighten. She’d heard rumors of the atrocities of King 
Sorale, seen the results of his mutilation on the lower-ranking citizens of 
Benox.
“I have to do this.” She stared at the large wooden doors at the end of the 
hallway. A cold sweat spread over her, giving her chills. If she didn’t keep 
moving she would lose her nerve. Already she was terrified of what she needed to 
do. But someone had to do something. “Sometimes I wonder if he even knows what 
goes on around him.”
“He knows.” Bean’s words were like a cold rush of wind, chilling her to the 
bone.
Dree searched his pale lavender eyes, proof of his Kopah heritage, the slave 
trader plantation that had bordered her home at Torl on the planet Poltar. Once 
they had been slaves for the elite, pampered and living in the lap of luxury. 
Their only training being how to sexually please their masters. But that life 
had been destroyed, wiped out in a single day.
“Go to the kitchen. Get your hand taken care of. I’ll be down there in a little 
bit.” She had no idea if she would or not. But if she didn’t sound confident, 
she would lose her nerve. “Go.”
Bean looked down. Without another word he hurried down the hall. Taking orders 
was in their nature. And that is what made this so difficult. Dree needed to 
stand up for her people before they were all destroyed at the hands of bored 
guards. She needed to give the orders.
She tucked loose strands of her white hair behind her ear, then ran her damp 
palms down the front of her loose-fitting shirt. It was the same kind of shirt 
Bean had wrapped around his hand. Simple and without color, the rough fabric 
hard on her skin, Dree’s shirt fit her as poorly as her pants did. But the 
unattractive clothes kept her from getting raped, usually.
She put one foot in front of the other, forcing herself forward while her heart 
moved to her throat and pounded painfully. Her hand shook when she reached for 
the long metal handle on the huge door. The metal was cold, her fingers barely 
wrapping around it.
Dree took a deep breath, thinking how the door appeared to have been made for 
giants. She suddenly felt very small.
This had to be done before she lost all will and turned tail to run. She gave 
the door a push. It barely moved. She leaned against it, and managed to open the 
door enough to squeeze inside.
Another world was on the other side of that door. Dree couldn’t believe it. She 
stood in a room so large, with ceilings so high, she almost thought she was 
outside. And indeed, large open balconies on either end of the room allowed a 
breeze scented with the fragrance of a multitude of flowers to drift through the 
area.
People moved around in front of her, beautifully clothed, chatting easily. They 
didn’t notice her. The relaxed atmosphere immediately made her homesick, 
memories of how good her life had once been as Torl’s slave hitting her hard.
“Are you lost?” A guard stepped in front of her, his hands on his hips, looking 
at her with disgust.
“Gods.” A woman nearby screeched.
“What is it?” Another woman, adorned in the beautiful silk the elite wore, her 
tattooed body beautifully displayed through the delicate material, covered her 
mouth, looking at Dree in terror.
“I want to see the King.” Dree tried to speak clearly, hoping for more respect 
if she sounded like she had her wits about her.
The two women hurried away, fanning their noses while they whispered to each 
other.
The guard laughed. “I doubt he would want to see you.” He wrinkled his nose in 
disgust and reached out to grab her.
Dree tried to duck, but his large hand gathered the back of her shirt and a fair 
amount of her hair, and dragged her through the room.
“I can walk.” She tried to pull his hand off of her. But the best she could do 
was wrap her fingers around his thick wrist behind her head and try not to lose 
her balance while he hurried her past curious onlookers.
Two palace boys, wearing the loose-fitting pants of the higher-ranking servants, 
hurried to open another set of doors when they saw them approach.
“No. I want to see the King.” Dree struggled, afraid he was sending her right 
back to the outer courtyard.
She shut up quickly when she realized they had entered another finely adorned 
room of the inner castle.
“What is this?” An older woman, her silk darkened, showing her privileged status 
not to be seen naked, sounded annoyed.
“She’s one of those Poltar slaves.” The guard said the name of her home planet 
with disgust. “I don’t know where she came from, but you take care of her.”
With that, he tossed her at the woman’s feet and then turned and left, the large 
doors closing silently behind him.
Dree hurried to her feet. She knew this woman was a higher-ranking slave—no 
more. And Dree had her freedom. Her former mistress had set her free when their 
home had been attacked. Regardless of what King Sorale dictated, Dree outranked 
this woman. Granted she had no home, no livelihood, and lived no better than the 
slaves, but she was not a slave.
The woman looked her over from head to toe, her expression a mixture of 
disbelief and contempt.
“I can’t help my appearance.” And she wouldn’t apologize for it either. “The 
King might appreciate my message better in my current state.”
She doubted it, but held her ground while the slave assessed her.
“Why is this here?” A man spoke from behind her and she turned, and then looked 
up at the giant brute who glowered over her.
“Thishas a name.” She pointed at her chest, the man following the action with 
little interest. “I am Dree of Torl and I want to see the King.”
The man walked around her slowly, Dree turning too so that her back was never to 
him.
“Bring her.” He turned and walked away, his clothing foreign to her, along with 
his accent. “I can’t tell if there is anything there with all that filth on 
her.”
The woman slave clicked her tongue at Dree, gesturing for her to follow. It took 
some effort not to slap at her hand when the woman poked her with a bony finger 
to get her moving. She followed the man, her heart racing while she tried to 
keep her thoughts focused. It was hard to take in her surroundings and keep in 
mind what she planned to say to the King.
Everything around her was so beautiful, so elegant, nicer than anything she’d 
seen on Torl.
Another slave boy opened a door when they approached. The man entered the dimly 
lit room, clapping his hands a couple of times.
“Clean her and then bring her to me.” He turned around and left without another 
word.
Dree realized he’d spoken to two slave women. They were naked, fine silver hoop 
earrings pierced through each nipple and a dainty silver chain around their 
waists and necks. The older woman pushed her from behind and Dree lost her 
footing.
She fell into a pool of very warm water, a cement bathtub dug large enough for 
an orgy. The warm scented vapors rising from the water alerted her immediately.
“Damn it to all the hells.” She reached for the side, holding her breath while 
she pushed herself out of the drugged water.
“You need a bath.” The older woman tried to push her back into the water.
The two naked slave girls tried also. Dree fought all of them. The two girls 
being no challenge. Their movements were slow and lethargic from having spent so 
much time around the heavily drugged water.
“You will not drug me and make me stupid.” Dree pushed hard, forcing the older 
woman to stumble backwards.
The woman tried to hold on to Dree to keep from falling and succeeded in ripping 
Dree’s shirt when she fell.
“Call the guards.” The woman scooted backwards from Dree, yelling at the drugged 
slaves. “Hurry. She is mad.”
Dree wanted to yell at the old lady to shut up. There wasn’t time though. She 
couldn’t get caught.
Jumping around the two worthless slave girls, she pushed against the heavy door.
“You don’t look too clean to me.” The slave boy at the door was rather mouthy 
with the absence of guards.
Dree shoved the boy, who was actually not much smaller than she was, into the 
bathing room. She shut the door, closing the four of them in the drug-filled 
room. Then glancing up and down the hallway, she chose the direction opposite 
where she’d come from.
Potted plants, standing taller than she, with leaves as big as her face, blocked 
part of her view of the large foyer at the end of the hallway. But they also 
proved a good shield. She wrung out her hair, glancing down as she did at her 
soaked and torn clothes. There would be less chance of drawing attention to 
herself if she were naked.
Footsteps sounded, approaching ahead. She pressed herself against the stone 
wall, its cold hard surface matching the atmosphere of the palace.
“Do you think His Majesty will go along with it?” A man spoke, the footsteps 
slowing.
Dree peeked around the large leaves spotting two men both wearing long cloaks. 
They weren’t dressed like everyone else. These two wore dark-colored clothes 
made out of material so thick she couldn’t see through them. Their bodies were 
completely covered.
“That is why you are here, to ensure that he does.” The second man had lowered 
his voice, speaking so only his companion could hear him.
The two men had stopped within feet of Dree. If she wanted, she could reach out 
and touch their strange clothing.
Her body shook, but she dared not breathe, and did her best not to even blink. 
Long daggers hung from their belts. She could see laser guns strapped at their 
hips. Never before had she seen so many weapons all at once.
But that wasn’t what caught her attention. Throughout her years as a sex slave, 
her body had never responded to a male of any race the way it did right now. Her 
heart raced, although no longer from fear. Suddenly her breasts seemed swollen, 
an ache growing in them while her nipples hardened with need. Slowly the ache 
spread through her while she watched the two men. These two were the sexiest men 
she’d ever seen in her life.
Chapter Two
 
The sooner Marc Torin could get out of King Sorale’s palace, the happier he 
would be. He’d shown up, as ordered. Now he just wanted to get the fuck out of 
there.
“Don’t play games with the King.” Trent Dar gave him a shrewd look, those coal 
black eyes of his not blinking once. “He may appear insane, but know now Torin, 
he can be very cruel when he feels he’s been cornered.”
“I didn’t corner him.” Marc stopped, glancing around them. He didn’t see anyone, 
but he didn’t trust the walls in this gaudy presentation of wealth. “If he 
viewed any of my comments as threats, that is for him to lose sleep over, not 
me.”
“Don’t get too sure of yourself.” Trent Dar didn’t look around him, but kept 
that non-blinking gaze of his hooked on Marc.
Marc wasn’t too sure of himself. His people suffered under the leadership of 
King Sorale, but he hadn’t figured out the best approach to solving the problem. 
When the King had complained that their communities flourished too much and that 
he needed more tax from them, Marc had refused. He hadn’t been surprised when 
the messengers from the palace brought the formal notice saying the King wished 
to see him.
“All I am sure of is that today we don’t have to pay his damned tax.” Marc waved 
a hand at the marble walls. “Like he needs anything from any of my people.”
Really all the King had control of was his kingdom, and he did a lousy job with 
that spread of land. Under all treaties on paper, King Sorale ruled all of 
Benox, but the man ignored everything outside his kingdom unless word got back 
to him that parts of the planet were flourishing too much.
He looked down and something caught his eye. A puddle of water pooled from 
behind the potted plant. Maybe it had been overwatered. If so, it was the first 
thing out of place he’d seen since he had arrived here. But then he noticed 
something else. Feet. Small feet. Small, dirty feet.
“What do we have here?” He looked around the potted plant into the terrified 
eyes of a young lady.
At least he thought she was a young lady. Marc reached for her, pulling her out 
from behind the plant to get a better look.
“What were you doing hiding behind there?” He had never seen a softer shade of 
gray than the color of her eyes. And the way she looked at him. Her body shook. 
He assumed she was terrified, but her eyes didn’t show fear—more like curiosity.
“I want to see the King.” She didn’t sound like the drugged sex slaves that 
strolled throughout the courtyards. She spoke clearly, never looking away from 
him.
Trentmade a snorting sound, either disbelieving her or finding her humorous. 
Marc wasn’t sure. He glanced at the man who focused on the young woman. Marc 
returned his attention to her as well.
“And you think standing behind a plant will get you an audience?”
She gave him a look to kill. “Hardly. I ran from some of the guards. Who are 
you?”
Her manner didn’t match her appearance. Marc didn’t know why he wanted to know 
more about her, but he did. She was absolutely filthy and smelled like she slept 
with the garbage, or worse. Her clothes were torn and hung on her, making it 
hard to see what she really looked like. But she didn’t wear the thin silk of 
the castle sex slaves. And she didn’t act like one.
“I think I would know who you are first.” He looked down the hall when two of 
the castle guards approached them.
Marc wasn’t sure why he felt the need to protect her. The young woman tried to 
yank herself free of his grasp. She turned also when she heard the guards 
approaching and he didn’t miss her terrified look. Without giving it much 
thought, he pulled his cloak away from his shoulder and pulled her against him. 
Then turning his back to the guards, he blocked her from view until they had 
passed.
She didn’t fight his actions. Her body pressed against his. She was shaking, but 
he was able to feel what he’d been unable to see. Full round breasts pressed 
against his chest. Her thin, fragile body was soft when she seemed to melt 
against him. The young woman was all female. His protector instincts went into 
high gear.
Marc ignored the amused lookTrentgave him. He waited until the two guards were 
out of sight and then moved his cloak. The young woman looked up at him.
“I’m not sure why you did that, but thank you.” She moved, leaving his front 
half feeling a lot cooler than it had a moment ago. “May the gods be with you.”
She turned to walk away and then looked at him over her shoulder, those gray 
eyes captivating him. “Which way to the King?” she asked.
She was so petite, so dirty with her shirt torn exposing part of her shoulder. 
Yet at the same time she moved with dignity and self-confidence. Her actions 
definitely didn’t fit her appearance. That in itself piqued his curiosity.
“Sending you to the King would be sending you to your death.” Trent Dar stole 
her attention with his words.
“I’ll take my chances.” Her small tongue darted over her lips while she studied 
Trent.
“You would have no chances.” Trent turned, looking down the hallway, and then 
toward the main courtyard.
Voices came from the courtyard, laughter, a group slowly approaching. At the 
same time, the clomping of boots sounded from the other end of the hallway 
toward the King’s court.
Marc grabbed the young lady before she could protest. “Let’s go.” She fought him 
less than he’d anticipated while he guided her down the hallway, Trent covering 
the rear.
No one questioned her being in his presence. They managed their way through the 
outer courtyard while the multitude of sex slaves paraded around with hardly any 
clothing on. Never before had sex been made to look so…filthy.
He guided them out the large balcony doors, the suns welcoming him with their 
cleansing warmth.
“Damn. I’m sure as hell glad to be out of that place,” he mumbled, Trent nodding 
his agreement.
The young woman hesitated when he began leading her down the wide marble stairs 
toward the road. He turned to see her staring wide-eyed at the small cruisers 
and gliders hovering below.
“How long has it been since you’ve left the castle?” he asked her quietly.
She looked up at him, and then away toward the street.
“I’ve been there since we arrived on Benox.” She looked down when she spoke, 
making it harder to hear her.
He pulled her along until they reached his cruiser, anxious to get away from the 
crowds of greedy people. These weren’t his people. All he saw here were people 
who’d sold their bodies, sold their souls, in hopes of a better life. Or the 
slaves who’d never had a choice. None of them looked happy.
Trent moved around the cruiser, pointing the ignition controller at it in order 
to unlock and open the doors. The gray door on their side lifted, causing the 
young lady to jump backwards. He held on tightly to her hand.
“You’ve never been in a cruiser?” he asked her.
She shook her head, her white hair fanning over her shoulders. “I can’t go with 
you.”
She stared at the cruiser’s roof, then looked down inside at the black seats at 
the front where a driver and passenger could sit. The side door allowed her to 
see that back half of the cruiser, an open area where supplies could be stored. 
Yet at the moment, there was nothing in the back.
“Yes. You can.” He lifted her, the softness of her body making it hard to let 
her go as he climbed in after her into the cargo area of the cruiser. “Get us 
out of here, Dar.”
The Gren needed no further encouragement. The cruiser hummed to life.
The woman dropped to her hands and knees, looking around her like a wild animal. 
“Why are you kidnapping me?”
Marc would have sat in the seat next to Trent. But he wanted to be close to the 
woman. Even hunched over, appearing so primitive in her crouched position, she 
appealed to him. Her pants draped over her ass, giving him a decent view of its 
shape. She was thin but with curves that stirred him to life. Blood pumped to 
his cock, the thought of mounting her from behind, sliding deep into her heat, 
distracting him for a moment.
“You aren’t being kidnapped.” He was curious why she would want to stay in her 
obviously wretched existence. “What is your name?”
“I am Dree of Torl and taking me against my will is kidnapping.” She braced 
herself when Trent lifted the cruiser off the ground, accelerating once they 
were airborne. “Who are you and where are we going?”
Marc wiped a strand of hair from her face, its silk texture and the creamy soft 
feel of her skin adding to her appeal. A slave in such filthy attire would have 
rough skin, hardened muscles from hours of extensive labor. Dree of Torl didn’t 
appear to have a rough or hard spot on her.
“I’m Marc Torin.” He watched for her reaction, but she offered none. Her soft 
gray eyes continued to look around the cruiser, taking in her surroundings. “And 
my traveling companion is Trent Dar.”
“Where are you taking me?” She finally looked at him. Apparently neither of 
their names meant anything to her, or she was very good at masking her 
reactions.
“We’re headed to the House of Torin. But we won’t make it there today. We’ll 
camp once we are out of King Sorale’s territory.”
She looked up at him, fear in her eyes. “You’ve got to take me back. Please. I 
can’t leave the palace. Not like this.”
Marc saw now that she must have a very cruel master. Why her skin was so soft, 
her appearance so refined, he didn’t know. But she was terrified of some wrath 
she would face if she displeased someone. He reached for her, needing to touch 
her again. And he wanted to calm the worry he saw building in her.
“You are more safe with the two of us than you would be anywhere else.” He felt 
her heart race when he took her wrist. “No one will hurt you.”
“My people…” she began. Her words faded and she tried to pull her hand free. 
“You wouldn’t understand.”
Marc tightened his grip, pulling Dree closer to him. She looked up at him when 
he brought her to him. The pain he saw in her eyes grabbed his heart.
“Tell me.” He sat on the floor of the cargo area, pulling her into his lap.
She shook her head firmly, pursing her lips as if to keep from speaking. But she 
didn’t fight him.
Her soft round ass nestled between his legs. It was best to stop her before he 
wrapped his arms around her, resting her on top of his cock. He was a man with 
great control, years of warrior training, and skilled in using his mind and 
body. But it had been a while since he’d fucked a woman. There hadn’t been time. 
Too much was going on with his land and his people. Every moment had been 
focused on making sure the towns he governed were protected.
Dree’s white hair fell over his arm, tickling his senses, wreaking havoc on his 
ability to think straight. She was stiff, unwilling to relax against him. But he 
held her hand in his, close to his body. The soft curve of her thigh under his 
other hand made him want to explore, stroke her until she relaxed.
“I’ve made contact with our camp.” Trent made Dree jump when he spoke. “All is 
intact there.”
“Good.” Marc moved his hand to Dree’s back, brushing his fingers over the rough 
material of her shirt. More than anything he wanted to put his hand under her 
clothing, feel the warmth of her against him.
“The King’s men are looking for us,” Trent added. The Gren paused for a moment 
and then added, “Maybe they want her.”
“The King doesn’t care about any of us,” Dree murmured, but he didn’t miss the 
bitterness in her voice.
“Don’t acknowledge his men. Keep going until you reach camp.” Marc watched Trent 
nod silently while Dree remained stiff against him. He looked down at her, 
letting go of her hand to take her chin in his hands so he could see her face. 
He lifted her face to his. “Would he be looking for you?” he asked her quietly.
He held her head in his hands, cupping her chin while she looked up at him with 
those soft gray eyes. Her white hair, falling away from her face, accented her 
creamy skin. He rubbed his thumb against her face, the smoothness of it so 
enticing.
“I don’t see why,” she said. “I doubt he even knows I exist.”
There was something about how she looked at him. A complete stranger, yet he saw 
trust in her eyes. She wouldn’t relax, did nothing to encourage his actions 
while he held her, but he saw something in Dree he hadn’t seen in too many faces 
in the past. He saw wisdom and compassion. The way she looked at him, those 
large gray eyes searching his face, she knew he would take care of her. And her 
expression told him she had accepted that.
“The King may not care, but he’s not as powerful as you might believe.” Marc 
ignored Trent when the Gren cleared his throat. He wouldn’t stoop to blindly 
supporting a king who was spineless. “Are you one of his slaves?”
Many may fear the Gren, but Marc knew Trent Dar respected his authority. His 
opinion on what Marc should tell Dree and not tell her was noted.
Dree straightened, her breasts brushing against the side of his arm when she 
moved.
“We are not slaves.”
The determination in her voice made him wonder what exactly her station was. 
“Then what exactly are you?”
“My people were freed before we arrived on Benox.” She glanced around him, and 
then appeared to focus her attention on his chest. “The King has enough sex 
slaves to keep him busy; he has barely noticed we are here.”
As beautiful as she was, he had a hard time believing she’d been completely 
ignored in the courts. And if the King had ignored her, then the man was a 
bigger fool than Marc had originally guessed.
More than anything he wanted to tighten his grip on her, feel for just a second 
longer the soft roundness that had barely touched him. Her shirt was so baggy 
and ill-fitted that he had no hopes of seeing anything of her with it on. Once 
they got to camp, he would see about bathing her and getting her clean clothes, 
tighter-fitting clothes. As small as she was, that might prove a challenge.
“Who exactly arewe ?” He wanted to know more about her, but as soon as he’d 
asked, he knew he wouldn’t get an answer.
Dree stared at him, sucking her lower lip between her teeth. “Just my people. I 
need to get back to them. They need me.”
She was lying. He didn’t know why, but her trust in him had just faded.
Chapter Three
 
For some reason getting out of the cruiser seemed like acknowledging Dree would 
never see her people again. She wanted to stay right where she was. Sooner or 
later this thing would return to the castle. It had to. And then she could get 
back to where she was needed.
They had traveled a long way. She knew little about the planet Benox other than 
it was the largest planet in the solar system. When the side door opened it was 
dark outside, the second sun no longer visible on the horizon. The others would 
assume the King had killed her by now. Her heart ached for the anguish they 
would feel over assuming she was dead.
“Don’t you want something to eat?” Marc stood outside a carrier, parked next to 
the cruiser they’d arrived in, holding his hand out to her. “I promise you that 
no one here will bother you.”
She believed him. It hadn’t taken much to figure out that he was a leader among 
his own people. The other man traveling with Marc looked quite dangerous, with 
his coal black eyes that hardly blinked, and shiny long black hair. Both men 
were very large and muscular. The other man, Trent Dar, followed Marc’s 
instruction without question though. A sign that he trusted his leader.
She doubted telling him again that she needed to return to the castle would do 
any good. “How long will we be here?” she asked instead.
“Just overnight. We’ll head home tomorrow.” He didn’t smile. She hadn’t seen him 
smile yet.
But even in the dark, his light blue eyes warmed her like a summer day. They 
probed her, seeming to be able to reach right into that part of her soul she 
kept hidden from everyone. She had a hard time looking away.
“It’s okay.” He was trying to reassure her, moving closer while he reached for 
her.
Dree looked down at his hand, so large and calloused. He worked hard doing 
whatever he did. Marc Torin had more muscles on his body than any man she’d been 
with before. Sitting in his lap all the way there had almost been more than she 
could handle. Even now her body tingled from having all of that strength wrapped 
around her.
She’d tried being immune to him. But all of her training since she was a young 
girl in the fine arts of pleasing men and women and knowing how to act around 
them hadn’t prepared her for this man. Even trying to distance herself, pretend 
she was somewhere else, back on Torl, sitting in the master’s kitchen listening 
to the cooks gossip cheerfully. Nothing had worked in taking her mind off of his 
virile body, so masculine, so powerful, so much more than any man she’d ever 
fucked in her years as a sex slave.
“Some food would be nice.” Maybe admitting to her hunger would help keep her 
mind off of Marc.
She slid her hand into his and realized that would be impossible. It had been 
days since she’d eaten more than a scrap or two. But when his fingers wrapped 
around her hand, the heat from his body washed through her, making her feel 
almost giddy.
Trent Dar watched them when they approached two other cruisers parked near each 
other with a handful of men lounging around them. The others looked up too, 
their expressions curious.
“This is Dree of Torl,” Marc told the group. “She is with me and will be treated 
with the utmost respect.”
No one had ever introduced her like that before. She thought she might pass out 
from the fury of heat that flushed through her. Life as a slave seldom rated an 
introduction at all.
The men straightened, taking in her filthy attire. She didn’t dare imagine what 
thoughts might be running through their heads.
“Torl, huh?” one of them spoke up, an older man with thick gray whiskers. “Are 
you one of those sex slave traders?”
A few chuckles came from the other men. Dree didn’t know what to say. These 
people thought she was an owner instead of a slave. Surely her appearance defied 
that as truth.
Marc didn’t allow her time to respond. “She needs some privacy. Someone find her 
some clothes that fit until we are home.”
Immediately the men jumped up. Within minutes one of the carriers was prepared 
for her to bathe in privacy.
Dree couldn’t believe how warm the water was. A large tub had been placed inside 
the carrier. Towels and clean clothes lay beside it. She relished the steam that 
soaked through her skin while scrubbing the filth off of her with a small cloth. 
Growing up on Torl, she and the other ladies often bathed in the creek. Never 
had she experienced a bath as luxurious as this.
“There is different soap that you use for your head.” Marc’s words surprised 
her, having not heard him enter.
She swallowed too much water. The soap on her head trailed into her eyes. She 
straightened quickly, splashing water over her face. Marc’s large hand covered 
her face, the cloth wiping the soap away.
“You startled me.” She blinked a few times, and then sucked in her breath when 
she realized he knelt next to the tub, his face so close to hers.
“Lean your head back.” He brought up a pitcher she hadn’t noticed and dipped it 
into the water.
No one had ever bathed her before. Dree felt foolish and in awe all at the same 
time. If this was a normal practice among Marc Torin’s people, she liked it very 
much.
She leaned her head back and his hand came up to rest between her shoulder 
blades, offering her support. He seemed to hold her with that one large hand, 
while he scooped water with the other, and then poured it over her head. His 
fingers spread across her back, singeing her with the heat of his touch. Her 
insides smoldered, warmth rushing through her with enough force she would have 
slid right under the water if he hadn’t held her so securely.
Dree did her best to watch him, closing her eyes only when necessary to keep 
water out of them. He continually looked down her body, enjoying her nudity. 
Many men had seen her naked, living at Torl she often spent days without clothes 
on, entertaining whatever man she was given to.
As many men and women who had touched her, enjoyed her body, explored every inch 
of her, she’d never had the sensation of being devoured the way she did now. 
Marc’s hand simply touched her back. His hands didn’t rub her breasts, his 
fingers didn’t brush over her nipples, and he didn’t explore her pussy.
But something was different here. He straightened her so that he could rub 
liquid soap into her hair, those large hands amazingly gentle while he massaged 
her scalp. He didn’t try to fondle or caress her in any way. Nor did he speak. 
With quiet attentiveness to his task, he washed her hair.
It was the way he looked at her. His eyes brushed over her, his gaze burning her 
skin. Without touching her anywhere other than her hair, he had her insides 
melting, her pussy throbbing with a lust unlike any she’d experienced before. 
She didn’t know how to react, what to do or say.
Her heart began racing when he soaped up the washcloth and began cleaning her 
body. More than anything she wanted him to rub her breasts, soothe the growing 
itch in her nipples. It made no sense that his actions would stir her this way. 
The water cooled, yet she burned inside. A fire raged inside her, the throbbing 
growing deep inside her cunt while he ran the cloth over her arms, her back, and 
then her front.
She gasped when the cloth ran over her breast, her nipple hardening while a 
tingling rushed through her. She didn’t understand. How many times had her 
breasts been fondled, sucked, tugged or pinched? This was just another man. It 
made no sense that her body responded with such need, such an intense craving 
for him to fuck her.
“I’ve never seen a woman without tattoos.” His hand moved to her belly, coming 
dangerously close to the painful wave of heat she couldn’t control burning 
between her legs.
“Now you have.” Tremors rippled through her when he reached into the water, 
lifting her leg.
“You’re cold.” He began washing her faster, increasing the intensity of pressure 
that built to a dangerous level deep inside her pussy. “I’ll hurry.”
He misunderstood her body’s reaction to his touch. Rinsing the cloth out one 
last time he rubbed it over her other leg thoroughly. Dree couldn’t stop the 
heat from streaming through her, coming while he cleaned her. She came, closing 
her eyes, riding out the intensity of her orgasm. He’d barely touched her. His 
actions weren’t sexual. And yet she’d just exploded with the best orgasm she’d 
experienced in a long time. None of this made any sense.
Something must be wrong with her. Maybe she’d been bred to be fucked a certain 
amount of times daily and without sex her body acted strangely. She hadn’t been 
fucked in so long maybe she’d grown oversensitive. That would explain her 
inability to control how she reacted to Marc being so close, running his hands 
over her body, the roughness of the cloth sending her over the edge.
When he stood, she saw the hard length of his cock pressing through his pants. 
She sucked in her breath, the twirling in her stomach spreading throughout her 
body. The trembling didn’t stop when she tried to get out of the tub, and step 
into the towel he’d opened for her.
“You’re kind to help me.” She let him wrap the towel around her, wanting to move 
closer into his warmth.
“No. I’m not.” He didn’t pull her to him but instead let go of the towel, 
stepping away from her. He turned as if he might leave her alone.
“I don’t know that I’ve ever been bathed before,” she confessed, hurrying to 
dry.
For some reason she didn’t want to be left alone. Or maybe she didn’t want him 
to leave her. Whatever reason, she was being silly. The first chance she had, 
she would return to the castle. Her place was with her people, not with this 
stranger.
“Tell me about Torl.” He surprised her with the request.
“What do you want to know?” She dressed, looking up at him while she pulled the 
clean pants given to her up her legs. “It’s a beautiful place. I mean…it was a 
beautiful place.”
Marc’s penetrating stare unnerved her. His gaze strolled down her, heat rushing 
through her wherever he looked. His cock was still hard, pressing against his 
pants. She knew if she touched it, ran her fingers along its length, it would be 
rock-hard, thick and throbbing, burning with the same fire that rushed through 
her.
“Are you a sex trader?” he asked, moving forward to unfold the shirt provided 
for her.
“No.” The pants were too big. She looked down, fidgeting with the waistband. 
Nothing she could do would make them fit her properly but she didn’t want to 
look up at him. His questioning would lead to him learning who and what she was. 
And she wasn’t sure how he would react to the knowledge.
“I didn’t think so.” He handed her the shirt, which she took, still not looking 
at him. “But Torl is a place where sex slaves are sold and bred.”
She nodded. It wasn’t a question, but she felt he waited for some kind of 
response from her.
Dree jumped when he touched her. She hadn’t expected it. He would learn she was 
nothing more than a tool to please others, that she’d been with so many men, and 
women, she had lost count, that she had been merchandise, offered to the highest 
bidder. He would despise her, not want to reach out for her.
“Dree.” Her name came out on a breath. His fingers wrapped around her neck, 
forcing her to look up at him, his fingers pressing into her flesh while he 
raised her face to his. “You are no longer a slave.”
“That’s right.” She couldn’t look away from him. His light blue eyes flooded 
with emotions she didn’t understand. Her heart began racing, her breath coming 
in gasps. She needed him to understand she hadn’t escaped from Torl, but had 
fled from her home. No one hunted her or cared where she was. “Torl is 
destroyed. The Bortan came and killed almost everyone. A few of us escaped 
here.”
“So now you are free.” He nodded once, understanding. “And you shall stay free.”
Her heart stopped for a moment. She swore it did. There was no way that he meant 
to ensure she remained free. The fire burning in his blue orbs made them so dark 
they looked dangerous. But it couldn’t be a passion to help her with her cause.
It was lust. Plain and simple. Somehow he managed to control his desires more 
than she. If given a moment to do what she wanted, she would demand he fuck her, 
beg him to take away the aching pressure he’d built inside her.
Dree sucked in a breath, forcing her heart to resume beating. “Yes. I will keep 
my freedom.”
And that meant at any cost. She would leave Marc and head back to her people to 
make sure that they stayed free, and found a decent life.
She reached for her shirt, but he didn’t release her face. Instead his grip 
tightened, his fingers moving over her skin, torturing her with the slight 
movement.
He held her face in place while he kissed her. When he’d bathed her, his touch, 
his actions, had been gentle. Marc wasn’t gentle now. His kiss was demanding, 
aggressive. A fire ignited into roaring flames inside her. Dree could barely 
breathe. She opened to him, parting her lips when he crushed his mouth to hers, 
feeding him while his heat burned through her.
While traveling there, she’d refused to relax against him. It had taken so much 
for her to tune him out, not let his incredible body get to her. Now all of her 
strength had disappeared. Her fingers traced up his rock-hard chest, feeling his 
muscles ripple underneath his shirt.
Men didn’t usually want to kiss her. They wanted her body. And her training had 
made her a very sensual lover. But this kiss, this incredibly sensual act 
performed on her mouth—she had no defense. She turned into a puddle of lust, a 
craving need billowing through her out of control.
Marc gripped her shoulders then slid his hands over her feverish skin. When he 
cupped her breasts, charges of electricity shot through her, aiming straight for 
her pussy. The impact left her gasping.
“Are you okay?” Marc broke the kiss, his face still inches from hers.
Dree nodded, certain she couldn’t speak while his hands continued to knead her 
breasts, his thumbs strumming over her nipples.
“We won’t tell anyone about this.” He moved his hands from her breasts, again 
gripping her shoulders.
At least now she could think, sort of. His words made sense. It probably 
wouldn’t do for a man of his rank to be consorting with a former sex slave. She 
hid the small pang of disappointment that he would be ashamed of her.
Straightening, she took the shirt he’d denied her a moment before. “That’s fine. 
I’ve no one to tell.”
Marc watched her slip the shirt on, which came down almost to her knees. She was 
sure she looked ridiculous, but at least she was clean.
“There is no reason for anyone to know about your past.” Marc seemed to be 
studying her. He tapped his finger to his lips, reminding her instantly of the 
intense heat that mouth had created within her. “It will go better for you if 
everyone believes you are of a higher rank.”
“A higher rank?” She’d thought many times since they’d arrived here on Benox 
that more could be accomplished if she could change her identity. But until this 
moment, she hadn’t thought it possible.
“No tattoos will be hard to explain. And your name…” Marc walked around her.
She turned, watching him. He moved with impressive silence considering how tall 
he was, how muscular. Just thinking about that solid chest made her fingers 
tingle, aching to touch him again. Her breasts were swollen, heavy, while her 
nipples still puckered in hopes he would return his attention to them. And the 
fire burning deep inside her, the pressure building in her pussy, was almost too 
much to handle. She wanted him inside her, deep inside her, pounding away the 
painful need he’d created.
“What’s wrong with my name?” She needed to stay focused. All of her life she had 
followed orders, done as she was told. If she didn’t pay attention, this man 
would take over the role of her new master.
She wouldn’t have that. Her freedom had come at too high a price to let go.
“Nothing is wrong with Dree. It’s the Torl part that has me worried. Obviously 
there are those who will pick up on it as a slave trader name.”
“But Torl is gone. The Bortan wiped out most of my home planet, Poltar. Most of 
the sex trader estates were destroyed.”
Marc nodded. “I remember hearing about it in passing. The Bortan wanted the sex 
traders on Poltar to follow their rules, pay their taxes.”
Dree had heard the politics discussed too, when she’d been in the company of her 
master. Torl had been so convinced the Bortan could never touch him. She fought 
the memory as it surfaced, watching her master’s home explode while he was 
inside. The Bortan had destroyed Torl land in less than an hour.
She barely heard the carrier door open behind her. Marc moved quickly, putting 
himself between her and whoever would enter. The warm night air and the smell of 
the campfire immediately surrounded her.
Trent Dar stepped inside, his large dark frame blocking the entrance, and making 
the space inside the carrier seem much smaller.
“The King’s men have followed us.” He looked at Marc, and then past him to her. 
His black hair, straight and falling to his shoulders, bordered his brooding 
expression. Black eyes, blacker than night, studied her.
Her heart began pounding; she was not sure if she liked the way he looked at her 
or not. He didn’t trust her, and she wasn’t sure why.
Marc stepped to the side, blocking her view of Trent. And his view of her. “How 
close are they?”
“Too close. They have carriers that are faster than ours, better equipped.”
Marc looked down, rubbing his chin. If he could have, he probably would have 
paced. But the carrier barely allowed room for the three of them and the tub. 
When he took a step forward, Trent caught her attention with those intent black 
eyes.
“What do they want?” She was looking at Trent when she asked, but she turned her 
attention to Marc. “Why were you at the castle?”
“In a matter of words, Marc told him the House of Torin will not submit to the 
King’s leadership.” Trent Dar’s words sunk through her like heavy bricks when 
she realized the King’s men were coming to take them captive.
Chapter Four
 
“Have the armies prepare from home.” Marc reached for Dree, taking her smaller 
hand in his. “We’ll break camp and head that way. Even if we are overtaken by 
the King’s men, my armies should arrive in enough time to prevent too much 
damage.”
The Gren nodded, turning to carry out his instructions. The best thing to do 
would be to get Dree out of the way. He doubted she had seen much combat, other 
than her world being destroyed. And he had no desire to add to her nightmares.
Her warm hand felt clammy in his. She was frightened and he wished he could 
protect her better than what he had to offer. Walking through the dark campsite, 
his men hurried around them to disassemble everything.
“Stay inside.” He lifted the carrier door they’d traveled in, holding her hand 
while she stepped into the back. “It will take a bit to tear down camp, but then 
we will head home. You’ll be safe here.”
She looked like she might protest, her worried expression searching his face. 
The longer he knew her, the more intelligence she displayed. Dree nodded 
silently and backed into the carrier.
More than anything he wanted to keep her by his side. Soon enough they would 
leave, and he would be with her then. But walking away, needing to confirm the 
reports, see the scanners, speak with his leaders, a longing to return to Dree 
overwhelmed him.
There had been women before, lovers he’d visited when there had been time. But 
no one had ever filled him with a longing to fuck like Dree did. He wanted to 
know her, to learn every sweet curve of her body. And he needed to discover why 
she captivated him the way she did. Maybe Torl sex slaves had a secret to 
empowering their lovers.
Unfortunately, he didn’t have time to think about any of that now. There were 
too many matters at hand to focus on how sweet her mouth had tasted, how 
wonderful her plump, ripe breasts had felt in his hands. The way she had sunk 
against him when he kissed her made her seem a young lady, new to the ways of a 
lover, instead of a mature woman who had lived through more than most should 
ever have to.
“I’ve contacted the House of Torin.” Trent Dar pulled his thoughts back to where 
they should be.
“How long until camp is torn down?” Marc glanced around him. His men were moving 
quickly, collapsing the heat lamps and gathering the kitchen supplies they’d 
used to eat while he’d been at the castle.
“We’ll be ready to head out of here soon.” One of his men spoke up, while all of 
them moved with the practiced speed of trained warriors.
“Let’s put the equipment in the carrier.” Marc nodded to the computer and 
tracking equipment Trent had been using.
Within minutes they had collapsed the table and torn down the console used when 
on missions. Marc led the way to his carrier, computer in hand. Dree pushed the 
door open when they approached and surprised him when she eagerly reached to 
help load everything inside.
This time, Dree sat cross-legged on the floor, her silky white hair reflecting 
in the light from the three moons. The clothes they’d found for her draped over 
her body, making it impossible to see any of that luscious body underneath. Her 
white hair was damp, strings of it draping over her shoulders that she shoved 
behind her back. Equipment stacked up around her but she didn’t seem to mind. 
Whenever he glanced down at her, her attention was on the computer Marc had 
braced in his lap. Those gray eyes seemed to catch every action, follow every 
detail.
“Well hell.” The incoming message flashed on the panel drawing him away from 
focusing on Dree. Marc picked up the receiver, glancing at the screen as he did. 
“They are contacting us.”
“Stop your cruisers by orders of King Sorale.” The King’s officer didn’t bother 
with introductions.
Marc looked over at the panel in front of the Gren. “How long before we 
intercept with my men?”
Trent pushed the button to open the scanner for long distances. “We’re just now 
picking up something.” He pulled the porta-comm from the dash, pushed the 
necessary buttons, and held it up to his ear. “Report in. What is your 
location?”
He listened, and then turned to look at Marc. “We’ll intercept in two hours.”
“Damn it to the hells.” He flipped the switch to open the line with the King’s 
guard. “We are no longer in the King’s jurisdiction.”
“Do you refuse to honor the King’s wishes?” There was a challenge in the guard’s 
tone.
Both knew that it would be as bad as an act of aggression for the leader of the 
House of Torin to refuse the King’s request. Marc didn’t doubt for a minute that 
the King finally figured out that he’d walked out of there without offering any 
reassurance that Torin would submit to him.
“The King’s carriers have increased speed.” Trent Dar also increased speed.
“We are under a tight schedule.” Marc decided to ignore the guard’s last 
comment. “Explain why the King would have us stop when there is no apparent 
reason to do so.”
He reached between the seats where he and the Gren sat, and moved supplies off 
of the long silver case that held their weapons. Trent Dar glanced over at him, 
the silent acknowledgement in the Gren’s black eyes telling him what he needed 
to know. Marc wouldn’t instigate aggression when they were obviously so 
outmatched. But they would defend themselves. He would not submit to the King.
“You have left with some of the King’s property.” Now the guard sounded annoyed. 
“You will stop your carriers immediately so that they can be searched. The King 
wishes his property returned.”
Like hell he would. King Sorale wouldn’t see the day when Marc of Torin 
submitted to his wishes. The man was a scrawny idiot, had no sense of honor, and 
based a man’s worth on what he had that the King could steal.
He forced his jaw to relax so that he could speak to the guard without showing 
too much of his outrage that the King would assume he was no better than a 
common thief.
“Return home and inform your King that we have nothing that belongs to him.” 
Marc leaned back in his chair, relaxing somewhat with knowledge that this was 
nothing more than one of the King’s silly games. “I apologize that your time has 
been wasted driving out of the King’s jurisdiction.”
“Is the King’s sex slave so good that you would risk your neck for her?” The 
guard chuckled, sending a fiery rage through Marc.
He straightened, suddenly realizing they were being chased down because of Dree.
The Gren gave him a strange look, his usual brooding look turning questioning.
Marc looked down at Dree. “You said you had your freedom.”
She looked shocked, her pretty grays eyes opening wide. “I do. We have been 
ignored ever since we arrived on this planet.”
“Someone saw her leave with us.” Trent looked straight ahead, his mouth forming 
a thin line. There was no way to detect what he was thinking.
But the Gren spoke the truth. And now the King would use Dree being with them to 
his advantage; a woman with no rank, not even the status of one of the court’s 
sex slaves. Marc’s blood boiled with anger as he gripped the computer on his 
lap, wishing he could break it in half, wanting more than anything to direct his 
fury somewhere, hit something.
“They will use her against you, Torin.” The Gren didn’t look at him, his large 
hands white-knuckling the controls of the carrier. He didn’t like this any 
better than Marc did.
Marc flipped the switch to open communications with the King’s guard. “I will 
not tolerate being accused of thievery.” It was all he could do not to crunch 
the handheld device in his palm. The King itched to find something to hold 
against the House of Torin, but this was stooping so low it left a putrid taste 
in his mouth. “You return to your King and tell him we have nothing that belongs 
to him.”
There was no response for a moment. He doubted the King’s men aboard the 
carriers pursuing them had any knowledge of the truth. They followed their 
orders blindly. Men like that repulsed him.
When the light flashed on the black communication device in his hand, he focused 
on it, the muscles tightening painfully throughout his body. Dree had no way of 
defending herself against King Sorale. And the thought of that bastard laying 
one of his bony fingers on her was enough to put Marc into a rage.
Marc pushed the button, allowing the guard to speak. “Stop your carriers. Now.”
“They’re on our ass.” Trent Dar wasn’t a man who got nervous.
He looked at Marc, waiting for the order to stop. Marc glanced at the steely 
expression on the Gren’s face and then down to the wide-eyed look of panic on 
Dree’s face.
Marc nodded to Trent, who immediately slowed the carrier, while sending out 
messages to the two other carriers his men were in to stop. Dree braced herself 
on the floor while the engines slowed, her soft hair falling around her face 
when she looked down.
Marc waited until they’d stopped, and then reached for Dree. His fingers easily 
wrapped around her arm. She didn’t look up at him, but focused on his hand, her 
small tongue darting out to dampen her lips. His cock stirred at the slight 
movement of her mouth, remembering too easily how sweet she had tasted when he’d 
kissed her.
“I won’t let them take you.” He wanted her to believe she was safe with him.
They knew little about each other, and he wouldn’t blame her at all for worrying 
about her immediate safety. But he wouldn’t allow King Sorale to use her to get 
to him.
Dree nodded, not looking up. Her action showed little trust, little faith. Her 
world had been destroyed. He wasn’t sure how she’d ended up here but he had all 
the faith in the assumption that she hadn’t been treated well since she’d 
arrived. If her appearance when he first met her was an example, the King 
certainly hadn’t given her a thought.
Until now.
He looked at the Gren. “Stay in here with her.”
Trent Dar’s expression didn’t change. Those hard black eyes simply watched him.
Marc opened his door, stepping out onto the uneven ground. Darkness surrounded 
them, the lights from the surrounding cruisers rushing across the field, 
outlining the tall grass that swayed around the large carriers.
He turned to see two of the King’s men walking toward him, several more standing 
back, and probably circling around the carriers. Warning lights triggered inside 
him, his instinct to fight and defend what was his rushing through his veins.
“You will open your carriers so that we may search them.” The taller of the two 
guards stopped just a pace away, the huge man spreading his legs and placing his 
hands on his hips as if his size might intimidate Marc.
The urge to toss the brute across the field almost overtook him. “There will be 
no search. The woman in question is with us. But she is not a sex slave. Nor 
does the King have any claim on her.”
The guard behind the spokesman for the two stiffened, his hand moving to his 
weapon on his belt. Marc watched the act and then looked at the man in front of 
him in the eyes. Neither of these two were his match. And he had no doubt he 
would win if he took them on. But he wasn’t sure where the other guards were, 
and wouldn’t put it past the King’s guards to ambush him.
“You take her word on the matter over the King’s?” the guard asked him, taking a 
half step closer. As if that would intimidate him.
“I do.” Marc didn’t budge.
“Our orders stand.” The guard straightened to his full height, a good couple of 
inches taller than Marc. But then all of the King’s men were bred for height and 
strength—not brains. “We will take her with or without your consent.”
The door to the carrier slid open behind him, catching the guards’ attention. 
Marc turned and watched Dree step down to the ground, with the Gren right behind 
her, his intent gaze immediately on the King’s men. Dree’s oversized clothing 
made her look like a child. But when she looked up, even in the dark, he saw her 
terrified expression. There was something else though. Something possibly akin 
to determination when she looked from him, to the guards past him.
“I am the one you are looking for.” She spoke clearly, although the hint of 
nervousness in her voice couldn’t be missed. “I am ready to return to the 
castle.”
The guard reached for her and Dree jumped back, her actions instinctive. Marc 
stepped between her and the King’s men. Hatred and outrage over everything the 
King stood for pumped through him. He needed to stay focused, to realize he 
couldn’t put Torin on the line for a beautiful former slave simply because she 
stirred something in him that no other woman had stirred before.
Her small hand touched his arm, her gentle warmth flooding through his clothing, 
searing his skin. Turning to look at her, he noticed those moist gray eyes of 
hers pleaded with him. His heart constricted, his anger only increasing that 
such an exotic creature would willingly turn herself over to the King.
“My people need me.” She spoke so softly he had to concentrate to hear her. She 
ran her fingers through her hair, pushing it back from her face. The tremble in 
her movement revealed the fear she tried to mask with bravery. “And they are at 
the castle. I need to go back.”
She’d told him that since he’d taken her from there. Dree swallowed, glancing 
again at the guards and then up at him. Her tongue moved over her lips, his 
insides hardening while he watched her. It would take little effort to take down 
these two men. The other guards were nearby, but so were his men. They were 
well-trained and loyal to him. He had all the faith in the suns that he could 
prevent them from taking her.
“This is what you want?” he asked her, needing to convince himself that forcing 
her to stay with him was treating her no better than the slave she’d been all 
her life.
Dree nodded and ran her hands down her clothing. She stepped around him, moving 
closer to the King’s guards.
Marc planted his feet on the ground, watching while the small woman, with more 
courage than grown men twice her size, walked between the King’s men to their 
carrier.
Everything inside him wanted to attack, to end the continued atrocities the King 
displayed. But this more than anything he’d witnessed over his years, to see 
Dree walk away from him, possibly to endure torture beyond what he cared to 
imagine, ate him alive.
Torin had grown under his leadership, his people flourished, enjoying a life 
envied by the rest of Benox. The King despised Marc, and his father before him, 
for the good lives the people of Torin enjoyed. Hard work, honest labor, and the 
willingness to fight to keep their freedom. That is what Torin had.
King Sorale offered poverty, disease, and unfair and unjust laws. His people 
hated and feared him. And what Marc had witnessed while at the palace, the sex 
arenas, the rape rooms, the King had some perverse kinks.
Dree climbed into the King’s cruiser, her head lowered with her hair fluttering 
around her face. She never looked his way but disappeared inside, the door 
shutting silently behind her.
“Damn it to all the hells,” Marc muttered, frustration overwhelming him.
This might be the last time he saw her alive. He wasn’t sure he could live with 
that knowledge.
“Let’s go.” Trent Dar stood next to him. He glanced at the Gren who wasn’t 
looking at him, but at the King’s cruisers as they backed away from them and 
slowly turned around. “There are duties at Torin.”
Marc turned around, noticing his men standing behind him, having appeared from 
where they’d been hiding and waiting, once they realized there was no need to 
defend their leader. He climbed into the cruiser and the rest of them turned 
silently, ready to head home. There was a sense of discontentment in the air 
though. None of them were pleased with Dree heading back to the palace. They all 
knew what awaited her there.
Chapter Five
 
Dree stood silently and watched while the two kitchen slaves dropped the dead 
body into the ground. There was no ceremony, no words spoken, just another one 
of them dead, forgotten the moment her last breath left her body.
The smell of the dirt, the fresh blood on the young girl’s body, all of it 
turned Dree’s stomach. The few people standing in the field, some from Torl, a 
couple who worked in the castle, stood silently in the morning chill—quiet.
Dree closed her eyes, the metal shovel making a thudding sound as it hit the 
ground, filling the shallow grave the former Torl slave lay in.
A week had passed since the guards had dumped her at the trash dump by the 
palace. The King had never sent for her, nothing had changed. The moments she’d 
had with Marc of Torin seemed like nothing more than a dream now, her reality 
having returned.
Thinking of him made her heart ache, the pain spreading through her until her 
entire body throbbed with regretful pain. Wrapping her arms around her waist, 
she did her best to ignore the intense emptiness inside her.
This wasn’t right. Little by little every one of them who left Torl was dying. 
Abused and mutilated at the hands of the King. They were no longer slaves, but 
this wasn’t freedom.
“Best head back before we are seen out here.” Bean shivered against the morning 
breeze.
Dree rubbed his good arm, making sure not to touch him anywhere that might hurt 
his sore hand. “I don’t think anyone cares where we are.”
“As long as we don’t disappear.” He referred to her leaving with Marc of Torin.
All of them had heard about her misadventure, had listened in silent awe while 
she told them about it around the smoldering coals outside the back doors of the 
kitchen.
“I think if we left without involving someone the King didn’t like, he wouldn’t 
notice.” They had discussed this before.
Bean shook his head, and like the others, the thought terrified him. Her brief 
escapade had convinced the rest of them that leaving would make things worse for 
them than staying here and waiting their turn to be tortured as the King’s play 
toy. None of them knew the land. They had no skills, no money or clothing or 
means of taking care of themselves. The small group who were left from her home 
planet were doomed to live out their days waiting for the King to decide to make 
them the entertainment for the evening. And they’d all quickly learned how 
perverted and demented his type of entertainment was.
“The King will be having his guests arriving for the aligning party.” Tork, the 
bulky kitchen slave who handled butchering the meat for the King, fell in 
alongside the two of them. “If you want to disappear, now would be the time to 
do it. King Sorale will be busy entertaining, and most likely too drunk to care 
if you leave.”
Something inside Dree fluttered to life. “Would you help us?”
Although not from Poltar, the native-born slave had befriended the small group 
of sex slaves when they’d stumbled into the palace what seemed like a lifetime 
ago. She looked into his scarred face, his squinty eyes focused ahead of them.
“Dree. What are you thinking?” Bean whispered, looking around them as if anyone 
would be listening this early in the morning in the dung heap side of the 
castle.
Her thoughts had instantly gone to Marc, his tall, well-built body a pillar of 
strength and cocky confidence. Memories swam through her of his blue eyes filled 
with lust while he watched her, those soft brown curls bordering the strong 
features of his face. She could still feel his strong hands washing the dirt 
from her body, exploring her, praising her. It would never happen that a man 
with so much power, a leader of his people, would ever take a serious interest 
in her. But she couldn’t deny the flush of heat that ran through her at the 
thought of seeing him again.
Like that would ever happen.
“We have nothing here.” She wished Bean would be stronger, would act like half 
the man he could be if he would just try.
“And we would have nothing anywhere else we went. So why leave?”
It had been like that all week, all of them arguing in hushed whispers about 
whether they should try to flee for their lives or not. And that is what they 
would be doing. Just like when they ran from Torl, the only home they’d ever 
known, while it exploded in flames around them.
“I just said now would be the time to do it if you were going to leave.” Tork 
looked at his hand, and then wiped it against his trousers leg. “Don’t know how 
I would help you though.”
Dree smiled up at the big brute of a man. “You could protect us. You know this 
land better than we do. Oh Tork, it would be so much easier to go if you went 
with us.”
“He is one of the King’s slaves though. Tork would be missed.” Bean had a point.
Dree sucked in her lower lip, chewing on it while she tried to devise a plan. 
The last thing she wanted was for more of them to get hurt if they left the 
castle.
They’d reached the lower end of the castle and stood outside the outer kitchen 
door. People moved around them, focused on waking up and their tasks for the 
morning. Green wood burned in the pit outside where the trash was burned. 
Someone had dumped the remnants of breakfast into the flames, filling the air 
with thick smoke and ripe odors. No one paid attention or cared that they stood 
talking.
“They deliver fresh meat before sunup every morning.” Tork scratched his balding 
head with his thick short fingers. “Maybe the driver could give you a lift out 
of here.”
“Where would we go?” Dree smelled leftover meat fat burning, more than likely 
the breakfast scraps from the slaves in the King’s court. Her stomach growled.
“We?” Bean shook his head adamantly. “This won’t work.”
“I’m not leaving you here,” she hissed at him. “Or any of us from Poltar. Don’t 
you see, Bean? We are all just sitting here waiting for our turn to die.” She 
pointed toward the field where the shallow grave was. Turning back to Tork she 
pressed. “Would you check with the driver? See if he would take us out of here?”
Tork shrugged, looking at her with puffy eyes. “I don’t know what’s out there 
for you, Dree. But I’ll check.”
She didn’t see Tork over the next few days. Dree hung out around the fire pits 
late in the evening, listening to the peddlers who stumbled around to the 
backside of the castle looking for handouts from the kitchen. From what she 
heard, those who lived outside the castle didn’t have it much better than she 
did. King Sorale ruled with a harsh hand, making sure no one gained too much.
She remembered the look on Marc’s face when he confronted the King’s men. He was 
ready to attack. And if she hadn’t intervened, she wouldn’t have been surprised 
if there were bloodshed.
At the time, she believed he fought for her. But now she wondered if it hadn’t 
been a deeper-seated hatred, a disgust for how the King ruled the land.
The remnants of trash in the pit glowed while the fire dwindled. There was more 
heat standing close to the others around her than there was from what remained 
of the fire. Dree stood among them, barely noticing their idle ramblings, or the 
stench from so many unbathed bodies, and let her thoughts drift as they did too 
often lately.
Marc of Torin crept into her dreams, stayed with her while she kept busy during 
the day, and distracted her in the evening. She imagined his hands brushing over 
her skin. The crowded backyard of the castle no longer offered a chill. Warmth 
traveled through her while the thoughts of Marc caressing her heated her with a 
feverish desire.
No one in the castle compared to his magnificent good looks. Even during her 
adult years on Poltar at the house of Torl, no man she’d had sex with came close 
to the sexy good looks Marc had. Those blue eyes of his, so intense while they 
didn’t seem to miss a thing happening around him. She swore there were moments 
when he watched her, when he was just a breath away, right there within her 
grasp.
An ache she couldn’t make go away consumed her. She imagined where he might be 
right now, in some magnificent hall, everyone laughing and happy around him. Her 
pussy throbbed while she pictured him, gallant and fair, enforcing the law of 
his land.
The throbbing built, the ache growing into a painful pressure. Her breasts 
seemed swollen, her nipples aching for his warm mouth to cover them, suck on 
them, while she impaled herself on his thick long cock. His shaft would fill 
her, while her pussy clamped down on him, her juices soaking both of them. Just 
thinking about how it would be to fuck him had her wet, her own juices 
trickling, dampening her pants between her legs.
Dree sighed, staring through the darkness at the strangers who stood around the 
dying embers in the trash heap. The empty longing inside her didn’t fade, but 
she fought to ignore it, focusing on their quiet conversations.
“Business will be good with the town preparing for the aligning.” The man next 
to her nodded his agreement with something someone else had said. He looked at 
her like she would agree with him. “Now’s the time to make a deal, don’t you 
think, missy?”
“She’s from Torl.” One of the cook’s sons poked his finger into her arm. “You 
ever been to an aligning party, Dree?”
She shook her head, not wanting to admit she didn’t know what the party was 
about.
The stranger next to her stuck his thumb toward the sky. “When the planets align 
there is always a celebration. Half-price travel to any of them they say.”
“Like you could leave Benox,” someone on the other side of the trash pile called 
out.
“Like you could afford to leave King Sorale’s empire,” another hissed.
“How would you leave his empire?” Dree asked.
The immediate comments offered various means.
“You want to leave the castle, do you miss?” The man next to her eyed her 
carefully.
Dree didn’t have much experience with backstabbing thieves. But she wasn’t born 
yesterday. She shrugged, making light of his question.
“I doubt there is anywhere better to go,” she said, hoping someone would suggest 
something worthwhile.
“Only if you want a decent day’s work.” One of the raggedy women she couldn’t 
see too well said that.
The others around the burning embers of trash laughed in agreement.
“Who offers decent work?” She knew she pushed the conversation, and didn’t want 
to raise suspicion. These people moved around the town though, living where they 
could find shelter. She had a feeling they might know a fair bit, if they were 
willing to give straight answers.
“The farms on the edge of the empire do,” the cook’s son next to her spoke. “You 
have to have muscle though.” He poked her again, this time harder. “I doubt they 
are hiring for what you are good for.”
She wanted to punch him. The others laughed easily and she didn’t ask any more 
questions.
It was cold and dark later that night when Dree woke from a nightmare. Flames 
everywhere, hot, singeing her clothes, while children screamed and explosions 
sounded. She sat up, working to catch her breath while her heart raced.
“Marc.” She uttered his name, crying out in a hoarse whisper for help.
Rubbing her eyes, she exhaled, looking around her at what was left of the House 
of Torl. Bundled in torn blankets, their clothes twisted around them, the only 
people she loved in the solar system slept soundly.
“What is it?” Pren pushed herself up and leaned on her elbow. She combed her 
hair out of her face with her fingers, squinting as she looked at Dree.
“I had a bad dream. Go back to sleep.” Dree tried to sound calm, to reassure the 
woman who was her same age so she wouldn’t pester her with questions.
Once their master’s favorite, Pren still had a regal look with her high 
cheekbones and full pouty lips. Dree wondered how the King, or his guards, 
hadn’t found her yet.
“You said that man’s name again,” Pren prompted, unable to leave it alone. “Are 
you going to go after him?”
Dree had known Pren all of her life. And although she trusted her, the woman 
would talk if lured properly. There was no way to know how anyone in the King’s 
court might react to her knowing Marc of Torin. All she knew for sure was that 
the King and Marc didn’t like each other.
She shrugged. “I have no idea where he is.”
“But you want to leave here.” Pren looked down at Bean, who mumbled something in 
his sleep and then rolled over, his heavy breathing letting them know he hadn’t 
woken up.
“We aren’t safe here.” Dree looked around the small back room, once a pantry, 
that the group of them shared. “We don’t have enough food, no beds. There has 
got to be something better for us.”
Someone moved beyond the open doorway that led out to the kitchen. Both of them 
stared into the darkness, watching the shadow angle across the floor. More than 
likely one of the slaves sneaking into the pantry to steal food, an act that 
would get them whipped until they were unconscious, if caught.
Dree held her breath, praying whoever it was wouldn’t bother them. Her heart 
raced in her chest until eventually, the person gathered whatever it was that 
they wanted, and left the kitchen. She heard Pren sigh with relief. It took a 
moment for her own heart to settle back down so she could talk. Pren looked over 
at her.
“You’re right. We aren’t safe here,” she whispered. “But where would we go?”
“I think if we could get out of town, we would be able to figure something out.” 
Dree wouldn’t share her plans, they were so sketchy, and she hadn’t figured out 
too many of the details.
Pren nodded and then lay back down. “Let me know when you’ve got it figured out. 
I’ll go with you.”
All of them would go together. Dree had already decided that. But she nodded, 
lying back down alongside the wall and one of the children. She shivered against 
the draft that crept through the cracks in the floorboard. Closing her eyes, she 
imagined Marc of Torin watching her, his intense blue eyes capable of knowing 
her thoughts without her saying a word. Just thinking about him caressing her, 
running his hands over every inch of her like he had when he bathed her, was 
enough to distract her from the hard floor and the cold night air tickling her 
backside.
Dree pressed her legs together, the intense pressure that wouldn’t go away deep 
inside her pussy starting to pulsate. Her clothes were baggy enough that she 
could run her hand down her body, tracing chilling patterns over her skin the 
way she imagined Marc doing.
Her body tingled with excitement, the only satisfaction she could offer herself 
these days, rubbing her clit with her fingers and fingering herself until she 
came. The throbbing pain in her pussy, the emptiness that craved being filled, 
was hardly satisfied with her fingers, but it was all she had.
Parting the sensitive flesh with her fingers, she cringed over how hairy she 
was. Once her body had been shaven smooth, oiled and moisturized daily. But now, 
ignored here in the castle, she hardly ever had fresh water to bathe in, let 
alone a razor to use on her body.
She pressed the swollen nub that beat with a throbbing that matched her heart, 
using two of her fingers to squeeze and caress it until she was coated with her 
thick cream. Stroking her entrance, she imagined Marc’s larger hand there, his 
focused expression watching her while he rubbed her pussy.
Dree sucked in a staggered breath. More than anything she wanted his long thick 
cock pressing against her, eager to enter her, to fill her until she couldn’t 
take anymore. Her nipples tingled, her breasts full and heavy, aching to be 
sucked and played with. Every inch of her body craved more than what she had to 
offer. Even after she stabbed her fingers deep inside her, rubbing her inner 
pussy walls while she pressed deeper, the ache wouldn’t subside.
Never had she dreamed she would get to this point, craving sex as desperately as 
she did now. But it was more than a good fucking; her body was on edge, one 
large nerve ending exposed and vulnerable, and the only satisfaction would be 
Marc.
She told herself this was nothing more than an infatuation, a natural reaction 
to a hero who had momentarily offered her something that she couldn’t have. 
Maybe any man would do. Pren had done it; Dree knew that. Her friend had allowed 
one of the guards to fuck her simply to take away the edge.
No matter how much she considered the idea, it did nothing for her. None of the 
men she saw around the castle appealed to her. And although she’d spent a 
lifetime fucking whoever she was told to fuck without giving it a thought, 
things were different now. And she knew the moment that they changed. It wasn’t 
her freedom that made her suddenly picky about what cock entered her body, it 
was meeting Marc of Torin. Now no other man would do.
Dree pressed her fingers along the inside warmth of her pussy, feeling her thick 
moisture wrap around her fingers. Her muscles clamped down, quivering while she 
stroked herself. The pressure built deep in the core of her pussy, so intense 
she wished she could pass out. She knew she would die if she couldn’t come soon. 
She just knew it.
Adjusting her legs slightly, parting them so she could reach a deeper spot in 
her cunt, she spread her fingers, twisting her hand while she fucked herself. 
Her hot cream soaked her hand while she imagined Marc over her, his muscles 
gleaming from sweat while he pounded her with his rock-hard cock. It was all she 
could do not to cry out when the dam broke inside her, the pressure receding 
while her body quivered with her orgasm.
Sliding her fingers out, she sucked on them, keeping her eyes closed while she 
savored her own rich flavor. Marc was smiling down at her, pleased that she had 
found pleasure, happy that she had come. She rolled over, cuddling into the 
child next to her for warmth even though her body wasn’t as cold as it had been 
minutes before. Smiling back at the image of Marc in her mind, she finally fell 
asleep.
Chapter Six
 
“Are you Dree of Torl?” The male voice behind her made Dree jump.
She turned around, looking up at the huge guard. Her heart swelled into her 
throat and started beating furiously as her palms instantly grew moist.
“Yes.” She choked on the word and cleared her throat while glancing over at 
Bean.
The two of them had just finished talking to one of the farmers who delivered to 
the castle. Like all of the others, he wanted nothing to do with transporting 
anyone off of the castle grounds.
“Come with me.” The guard reached for her, his gloved hand wrapping around her 
arm before she could protest.
“What have I done?” She did her best to keep up with his long strides as he 
walked her across the grounds back to the castle.
Grabbing the baggy pants that Marc had given her at the waist, she held on to 
them so they wouldn’t slide down her while the guard hurried her across the 
yard.
“I don’t ask questions and you shouldn’t either.” His rough grip on her brought 
back memories of being brought back here after being taken from Marc of Torin.
Dree glanced back at Bean who was already hurrying in the other direction. He 
would tell the others she’d been taken. They would assume it would be a matter 
of time before they were dropping her into a shallow grave in the ground.
The lump in her throat swelled, while her stomach twisted into a painful knot. 
The King had requested to see her. But why?
The guard took her through one of the side doors that led down a long hallway 
toward the inner courtyard. She’d been this far inside the castle only once 
before, and that was when she’d met Marc.
Her heart pounded in her chest when the doors were opened for them and once 
again she moved across the open courtyard. The world around her transformed from 
hunger and filth to beautiful people lounging and flirting with each other. 
Sweet-smelling air filled her nostrils, adding to the clean, serene setting 
before her. Her surroundings reminded her of how filthy she was, with over a 
week since she’d bathed. She refused to part with the clothes Marc had given 
her, not that she had anything else to wear, and her fingers were all she had to 
comb her hair. Hot embarrassment ran through her while the other women watched 
her, curiosity and repulsion masking their faces. The material of her clothes 
was foreign, thickly woven and impossible to see through.
“This way.” The guard yanked her arm almost out of her socket as he dragged her 
across the courtyard.
He was making a show out of taking her to the King. Dree couldn’t figure out 
what she had done to deserve such humiliation. The painful knot in her stomach 
grew when she thought that this might just be the beginning of being disgraced.
Their footsteps echoed in the hallway similar to the one where the drugged baths 
were. After crossing through several smaller courtyards, they approached two 
steeple-shaped wooden doors, their long thick handles adding to their gothic 
appearance. For some reason, Dree knew nothing good happened beyond those doors. 
Her knees began shaking.
Over her years living at Torl, her master had purchased sex slaves who would 
share nightmares of abuse and pain at the hand of evil and sadistic men and 
women. Dree’s stomach turned, the thick knot rising toward her throat when the 
guard reached for the handle.
“What’s in there?” Her voice quavered, fear gripping her like an angry lightning 
bolt, freezing her in her tracks.
The guard pushed the door open. “The King,” he told her, looking down at her, 
sneering. “And you’ll do well not to cower and cry in his presence. It’ll only 
go worse for you. I guarantee it.”
Dree looked up at the giant of a man who had a death grip on her arm. He turned 
toward the door though, dragging her through it without another word. But she 
heard what he’d just said to her, and knew that he spoke with experience. 
Straightening, she forced the panic back down to the well of her gut, and stood 
as tall as she could while walking alongside the huge man.
The long room she entered almost took her breath away. Arched ceiling with 
passionate colors portrayed scene after scene of sexual acts. There were marble 
statues of naked men and women posed in lewd and compromising positions. A 
detailed statue of a woman on her hands and knees, sucking a man’s cock while 
being fucked from the rear by another man stole her attention momentarily. This 
room by far surpassed her master’s entertaining area back on Torl. Everywhere 
she looked something sexual caught her eye. Rumors of the King’s perversions had 
not been lies.
“What have you brought her in here for?” A whiny-sounding man, small and bony, 
stepped in front of the two of them. He put his hands on his hips, his lip 
curling in disgust while he tsked at her appearance. “You can’t present 
something like that to the King.”
“King Sorale asked for her.” The guard stopped, but didn’t sound intimidated by 
the small man’s question.
The man, whose age Dree couldn’t guess, ran nicely manicured fingers through his 
thick dark brown hair. He glared at the guard, as if annoyed that he even had to 
address him, then turned his attention to her. He didn’t stand much taller than 
she did.
Dree made sure she stood as straight as possible, the way her mistress often had 
when dealing with a man who had a bit too much of an ego.
“What is it that you do here?” She did her best to sound sure of herself. “I’ve 
been manhandled enough by this guard. And I have no idea why the King wishes to 
see me.”
“His Majesty will let you know why when you are presented to him.” The man’s 
disgusted look didn’t leave his face. He turned away from her, clapping his 
hands together twice. “Take her to the bathing room. The King certainly can’t 
see her looking like that.”
“I’m not yours to command.” The guard pushed her into the small man. “You take 
her to the bathing room.”
Dree straightened quickly, running her hands over her oversized clothes, more to 
wipe the moisture from her damp palms than to make any attempt to straighten her 
appearance. She knew she couldn’t possibly look decent in what she was wearing.
The small man grunted, not showing fear but more like disdain. “Come on then.”
Dree thought about refusing to follow him, but hadn’t she wanted to see the King 
for a while now? She seriously doubted talking to him would help her people at 
this point. But something had to be done.
They walked along the side of the long room. Small groups of people huddled here 
and there, chatting idly. She didn’t look at any of them, instead focusing on 
the magnificent statues carved in various positions and from different types of 
rocks. They were incredible. And although she tried hard to focus on the detail 
when they walked past each one of them, none of them put her nerves at ease.
The small man stopped in front of a nondescript door, opening it without 
ceremony. Dree followed him down a narrow hallway until he opened another door 
and stood to the side for her to enter.
“When do I go to the King?” she asked, glancing inside and then turning her 
attention to her escort.
“When he wants to see you.” He gestured with his head for her to enter.
This time, bathing proved a simple matter. No one paid too much attention to her 
in the large room, where others were gathered, obviously waiting for the 
opportunity to say their piece with the King.
She managed to find a washing area, mainly used for those who had traveled to 
primp a bit so they were presentable for the King. The sight she stared at in 
the mirror on the wall made her gasp.
“I’m a wreck,” she groaned out loud, staring at the atrocious sight reflected 
back at her.
Her hair was no longer silky but tangled and almost matted in places. Her skin 
had grown rough, and she looked worse in the clothes Marc had given her than she 
thought. She couldn’t have looked much different over a week ago. What in the 
world had that man seen in her?
Apparently, she had plenty of time to prepare herself. No one came to get her. 
Others around her took up lodging in corners, or wherever they found room, 
getting comfortable while they waited.
“Well, at least you don’t have the Bortan staying at your Inn.” An older woman 
huffed while she complained.
The words stabbed right through Dree. Memories of watching her master’s home 
explode, the countryside she had loved burn, and smoke billowing around her 
making it impossible to breathe invaded her mind with a painful vengeance.
“You know they stink because their human parts decay.” Another woman spoke with 
a hushed voice.
Dree’s hands trembled while she tried to rinse the soap from her face and hair. 
Her feeble efforts to clean herself up suddenly proved a task too complicated to 
finish. Panic rushed through her at the thought of the Bortan. It sounded like 
they were here in town, possibly for the Alignment Ceremony. Just thinking of 
how she might see one of them made her skin crawl. She hated the King even more 
for allowing them on this planet.
“Dree of Torl.” A guard stood at the doorway, calling her name, while glancing 
around at the room full of people.
She’d barely had time to adjust her clothing, using a rope belt to hold the 
shirt and pants in place in the middle of her body. Her hair was still damp, but 
she was clean. Dree walked through the room, her head held high, doing her best 
to appear anything other than a former slave. The future of her people relied on 
her actions over the next hour. And she was terrified.
Once again she entered the magnificent room where the erotic statues poised in 
silent sensuality bordered the walls. This time men and women stood along the 
walls, blocking her view of most of the artifacts. She saw Bortan among the 
people, and icy chills ran down her back.
Dree stood between two guards. “You will walk between us to the King,” one of 
them instructed, and she did her best to nod.
Her mouth was so dry she wasn’t sure she would be able to speak. The knot in her 
stomach twisted in wrenching pain, her lips trembled and her knees were almost 
too shaky for her to walk. Somehow she had to present herself as confident 
though, or her life and the lives of the few of them left from Torl would be 
over. She struggled to swallow while walking between the two guards toward the 
King.
The people on either side of her watched her, eyeing her clothing, sizing her 
up, whispering among themselves. She had to ignore them. The best thing to do 
would be to pretend none of them were there. How many times had she done that 
with her Master on Torl when she’d sucked his cock in front of crowds? Dree 
focused ahead at the figure sitting on the throne and paid no attention to 
anyone around her.
When they reached the altar setting where the King lounged on a 
comfortable-looking, oversized chair, Dree almost stumbled when she was supposed 
to curtsy. The sight that caught her eye wasn’t what she was prepared to see.
Pren from Torl was on display to the side of the King. Her arms and legs were 
tied to poles, her body stretched naked for all to see. Her feet didn’t touch 
the ground, and her arms were pulled taut, her body extended in the shape of an 
X. Pren had been whipped, the red lashes streaking across her chest and pussy 
standing out against her creamy white skin. Her breasts and hips had been 
gripped hard enough that bruises shaped like handprints could be seen from where 
Dree stood. Her nipples had clamps on them, gold studs that glistened against 
the light in the large room. Her shaved pussy was red and inflamed, giving 
indication that she’d been fucked repeatedly by more than one person, or 
possibly more than one object. Pren’s hair covered her face, which was bent 
forward, her chin almost touching her chest, her white hair falling in strands 
to the top of her breasts.
From her heavy breathing, Dree could only guess she had been the focus of some 
form of demented entertainment right before Dree had been called. Pren was 
conscious and in pain. Her humiliation probably made her hide her face. Dree’s 
insides tightened with disgust and fear over what they had done to the woman. 
Although never close, she detested torture inflicted on another person simply to 
amuse those with more power. Her heart raced in her chest that she might be 
next. Her stomach turned and bile rose to her throat.
“This is the traitor in my midst?” The King’s question seized her attention.
Looking away from Pren, she focused on King Sorale. He was younger than she’d 
expected, and actually good-looking, in a sinister way. He sat at an angle in 
the chair, one leg resting over the arm. He raised an eyebrow at her, his cocky 
smile appearing anything but friendly.
“If you believe me a traitor, you’ve been misinformed.” Her voice sounded louder 
than she’d expected, surprising her when it echoed off the high ceilings.
A hush fell over the room. King Sorale straightened, narrowing his gaze on her, 
not speaking for a moment. She guessed his intention was to intimidate her. He 
was doing a damned good job, but for whatever reasons, she didn’t want him to 
see that.
Pren lifted her head slowly, glaring at Dree through the strands of hair that 
stuck to her face. Her eyes were bloodshot and one side of her mouth swollen. 
There was a look of hatred on her face. Dree wanted to run to her, pull her 
down, soothe her until the woman could fall asleep.
“Oh. Have I?” The King stood, running fingers covered with large rings over the 
sides of his pants, coming dangerously close to stroking his cock. “So you deny 
any displays of disloyalty to your King?”
Dree bit her lip. It was a trick question. And she had no idea what the charges 
were. Her hatred for this man grew tenfold while she watched him stroll over to 
where Pren hung, stretched and vulnerable, her tortured nudity a blatant 
reminder of what the King was capable of.
“I’m not sure what you’re talking about.” The truth had to be the best approach 
here. Quivers of panic threatened to take over. But she had to hide her fear. 
Remembering the guard’s words when she entered the hall, she knew if she let the 
King bully her she would never survive.
King Sorale picked up Bosha tails that were on a small table along the wall by 
Pren. Holding the thin rod, he ran coarse hairs that came from the tail of the 
large Bosha animal at the end of the rod across Pren’s belly. The woman’s 
muscles tightened, but she managed an odd little smile for the King.
“My precious little slut here tells me you are anything but an idiot. Do you 
mock your King?” He smiled back at Pren, but then turned a shrewd look her way.
“You are not my King.” The words were out before Dree could stop them.
A very uncomfortable silence fell heavy in the room. There was the clicking of 
metal and Dree turned to notice several Bortans standing nearby. Her mouth went 
dryer than sand. She stared at the half-men/half-machine brutes. Their race had 
destroyed her planet, ruined her life, and forced them into this miserable 
existence. One of them sneered at her, letting his gaze travel down her body. 
She wanted to find something to throw at him.
“How dare you look away from me when I am talking to you!” The King stamped his 
foot, and then took several angry steps toward her.
There was a stir behind her. Something that distracted the King. He looked past 
her for a brief moment, and then turned an outraged eye on her.
“Denouncing your loyalty to your King is treason, punishable by death.” His 
voice was low, cool, hatred dripping through it.
Dree’s heart pounded so hard against her chest she was sure the sound echoed in 
the room. She licked her dry lips, fighting to stop an uncontrollable amount of 
fear that raced through her.
“I haven’t denounced anything.” Her voice didn’t come out as strong this time. 
“I am not from this planet. If you are ruler of land off this world forgive me 
for not knowing.”
She swore someone snickered behind her. There was movement around her, as those 
standing along the wall stirred uneasily. Did no one speak their mind to the 
King? Was he such an ass that everyone simply kissed his feet to stay on his 
good side?
King Sorale turned very red in the face. Once again she watched him look past 
her. More than anything she wanted to turn around and see what he looked at, but 
knew he would surely take the Bosha tails to her if her attention strayed one 
more time. The marks on Pren’s body showed he was more than willing to use the 
leather stringed whip.
He pointed a shaking finger at her. “You try to convince the merchants who do 
business with the castle to carry my slaves away.”
“I do not.” Her self-defense was ignored.
“You are trying to raise unrest among the slaves so they will revolt and want to 
leave the castle.”
“That’s not true.” She didn’t even associate with his slaves. Most of them 
wouldn’t give her the time of day.
Her temper began taking over her fear. Never had she heard such bullshit come 
out of the mouth of someone in such high authority. No wonder his kingdom was so 
miserable.
“And…” King Sorale raised his finger above his head, extending his arm, pointing 
at the ceiling. He looked around as if to make sure he had everyone’s attention. 
“And you are in allegiance with the House of Torin as a spy in my castle.” He 
shouted the last words. “You wear the Torin clothing to show your loyalty.”
Hushed whispers sounded throughout the court. King Sorale looked rather pleased 
with himself, rocking up on his toes while he looked around the room.
Dree could feel so many eyes upon her, their gazes burning through her clothing. 
She wanted to disappear underneath the carpet on the floor, or turn and run as 
fast as she could. These people had stood around and watched him torture Pren. 
Now they would stand like complete idiots while the King degraded her. None of 
them cared about anyone. These people were heartless, just like their King.
Dree straightened. She doubted anything she said would wipe that smirk off the 
King’s face. “I have met Marc of Torin, once. He helped me when I needed help.”
Just mentioning his name out loud sent a warm rush through her.
Again there was rustling behind her. The King’s expression changed for the 
briefest of moments before his cocky sneer returned. Dree wished she could have 
focused on it longer. Did she see worry? Fear?
He looked at the guards standing on either side of them nodding and smiling 
while he pointed at her, as if he sought their reassurance.
“Her confession. She admits being a spy.”
“I do not!” Again she cried out before giving her words any thought. “I don’t 
even know where the House of Torin is. I don’t know anything about this planet.” 
She threw her hands up in the air, exasperated. If he was going to kill her, she 
might as well say her piece first. “What I do know is that you have no 
compassion for strangers. My people have been treated worse than your slaves.”
This time the King didn’t look around the room. He focused on her, looking at 
her as if he wanted to figure something out. A cold chill seemed to settle 
around her. Behind the King, Pren appeared to have passed out, her body limp 
against her restraints with her head leaning forward against her chest.
One of the Bortan clinked to the side of her, his shuffling while he stood 
causing the metal in his body to scrape against each other. The sound almost 
made her heart explode. She jumped in spite of herself, her heart moving to her 
throat where it lodged painfully.
Memories of Bortan guards chasing them, catching some of the females, flooded 
through her like poison. She remembered hiding, waiting while the Bortan fucked 
the females that they caught. Closing her eyes, she did her best to forget the 
horrible memories of those metal cocks, twisted and surgically altered, while 
they stroked themselves and bragged about their size and abilities. She had 
witnessed the others being raped, tortured, fucked in every way possible by 
these half-men, half-machine beings.
“No compassion?” The King spit out the words, bringing her back from her 
disturbing memories. “I allow you to stay at my castle instead of throwing you 
out onto the streets. What trade do you possess? What skills do you have?” The 
King laughed, taking in her appearance as if it disgusted him. “You are 
ungrateful and lack respect.”
Waving his hand in the air he turned around, returning to his throne. “Strip and 
bind her. Our little troublemaker will learn respect today.”
“No. Please.” Dree took a step backwards but to no avail.
Two guards gripped her arms before she could move backwards. Murmurs and 
shuffling sounded behind her but she could only guess if the people watching 
were disturbed, or excited for another show.
The guards pulled on her clothing, the clothing Marc of Torin had given her. 
They made no attempt to take them off properly, but ripped them from her body. 
In moments she was naked, shivers rushing through her, her body trembling more 
from fear than being suddenly cold. Tears burned at her eyes. So many years of 
training helped her keep a straight face, not allowing these lame excuses for 
men to gain any perverse enjoyment from her fear.
She didn’t fight them when they led her to the side of the throne. Bars similar 
to the ones Pren was tied to were pushed forward by too-thin slave boys. She 
made a sweep of the crowd when the guards turned her so her back was to the 
poles. Too many eyes stared at her, sending goose bumps crawling over her skin.
The guards stretched her arms pressing her wrists against the cold stick of 
metal. The leather straps cut into her wrists, binding her, holding her in 
place, stretched out and on display. Her vision blurred and she blinked, hating 
the hot moisture that trickled down her cheeks.
“I’m not a sex slave. Why are you doing this to me?” she cried out, suddenly 
inclined to struggle against her captors.
She twisted, pulling her arms toward her. It only succeeded in causing her arms 
to hurt more when they were yanked harder, and then the leather straps bound 
against her skin, digging in painfully.
The King turned from his throne and instead moved to stand in front of Pren. 
Dree could barely see him run his hand down the front of Pren’s body through her 
blurred vision.
“After this one told me of the activities you conducted against your King, she 
begged me to do this to her.” He turned around. “She will make a wonderful sex 
slave. You on the other hand…”
Dree couldn’t fight the guards when they gripped her legs, stretching them 
apart, her inner thigh muscles screaming from the angle they forced upon her.
“I doubt you will be as much fun.”
Pren was the reason she’d been called to the King. She’d been betrayed. Anger 
stopped her tears. A burning pain started deep in her gut, filling her with rage 
over how her own kind had treated her. Pren knew she tried to find them a better 
life. The woman knew Dree only wanted the best for all of them.
She bit her lip, straining against the leather ties that held her feet and hands 
secure.
“All I’m guilty of is trying to find a better life for my people.” She no longer 
cared about all of the onlookers watching. Too many years of being watched while 
she was with her Master made it easy to ignore the crowd.
“Maybe your people like it here.” The King moved toward her, his stroll lazy 
like a cat’s.
Now standing close enough that she could feel his breath against her skin, she 
could see the cold evil that swam deep in his pale blue eyes.
She shook her head, mentally willing him away from her. The King raised his hand 
to brush one of his brown curls to the side of his forehead. His fingernails 
were well manicured, and large rings were on every finger. Her skin crawled in 
repulsion to his nearness. Exposed and vulnerable, there was little to do to 
maintain her dignity. She was now at his mercy. Obviously speaking her mind 
hadn’t helped her either, although she doubted at this point holding her tongue 
would do any good. The King had planned out this event before summoning her. She 
realized now her actions and words were moot. All of this was premeditated.
And she saw no way of getting out of her situation.
The King leaned forward and she thought he would kiss her. Even though she had 
fucked men in the past who hadn’t appealed to her, for some reason her body was 
repulsed by the King. His icy gaze sent chills through her, making her skin 
crawl. She looked away, not wanting his mouth on her, anywhere.
“Who do you stare at?” The King’s hushed whisper never would have been heard if 
he hadn’t been mere inches from her face.
His expression reflected worry, something she hadn’t expected. Was there someone 
in the crowd he assumed she would be watching? Looking again, she scanned the 
long room, but one of the guards who’d bound her stepped in the way.
“Anyone but you, Your Majesty.”
Maybe enough months had passed that she had told herself she was no longer a 
slave. She had started thinking for herself, making her own decisions. And there 
was no turning back.
“No one in that audience will dare to help you in my court.” His cocky 
expression had returned, a puny runt acting like a bully with his guards 
surrounding him to protect him.
Instead of kissing her, the King ran his tongue up her cheek, licking her. 
Dree’s stomach turned. She balled her fists, the leather straps rubbing hard 
against her wrists. His shirt barely brushed against her nipples, hardening 
them, and sending nervous tingling energy rushing through her.
Her master had tied her before. She had been spread open like she was now, 
exposed and vulnerable. Her pussy would throb in anticipation, drip with cum 
while she begged in her mind to be touched, ravished, enjoyed.
But now here, in the presence of King Sorale, the cool air in the room wrapping 
around her pussy lips only succeeded in keeping her dry. Never had she been more 
turned off by a man’s actions as she was now.
“Beg me to touch you.” His face was so close to hers that she couldn’t focus on 
him.
“Never,” she whispered, her stomach filling with bile.
He moved an inch or so to the side, allowing his actions to be seen by everyone 
in the room. His hand wrapped around her neck, her muscles clenching while she 
stared at him. Her life was in his hands and the terror that gripped her made it 
hard to breathe.
King Sorale let his hand slide from her neck, brushing over her breasts. His 
gaze followed his actions while she watched him, her breathing coming in gasps.
“You are a sex slave from Torl on Poltar,” he uttered, his focus on the lower 
part of her body. “Don’t pretend to be something you are not.”
“I’m no longer a slave.” Her mouth was so dry she could hardly speak. She sucked 
in a staggered gasp when he cupped her cunt.
The King pressed his fingers into the tender folds of her pussy, forcing the 
skin to part. It burned when he forced his entrance, stabbing her with his 
fingers, penetrating her.
“Maybe you weren’t a very good sex slave,” he sneered, his knuckles pressing 
against her unshaved skin while his fingers worked deeper inside her.
She closed her eyes, images of Torl in all its glory circling through her mind. 
Her master’s guests used to request her personally. She had taken pride in her 
skills. But this was a secret the King would never know.
“And maybe you aren’t a very good King.” She spoke through gritted teeth.
King Sorale pulled his fingers free of her tight hole and then slapped her 
pussy. The heat of humiliation burned her skin, almost breaking a cold sweat out 
over her body.
The King took a step backwards. “It appears my last attempt at allowing you to 
show your loyalty has failed.”
He produced the Bosha tails, gripping the black rod in one hand while he let the 
long leather threads stream over his other hand.
Dree opened her eyes. The King raised the whip and brought it down. The leather 
tails slapped her skin, sliding over her front. Fire burned through her from the 
infliction. She clenched her teeth together, refusing to cry out, knowing how 
often that turned the person on who did the whipping.
“Certainly you have better entertainment than this.” One of the Bortan spoke up, 
his metallic-sounding voice startling Dree.
The King turned around, a pleasant smile appearing on his face. “She is rather 
boring, isn’t she? Maybe if we place her out for a public fucking it would amuse 
our honored guests.”
“Possibly if she were fucked enough she would learn to enjoy it.” The Bortan 
eyed her, while his companions snickered their approval of his comment.
Dree’s heart pounded so fiercely against her ribs that the pain almost 
surmounted the sting from the leather tails.
The King turned toward his throne, clapping his hands once. Immediately the 
guards stepped forward and the King waved a hand at her dismissively.
“The slut claims she acts on behalf of the common people. Take her out to the 
streets and present her as a gift to the people she fights for.”
Dree wanted to cry out her protests when the guards laid hands on her. Her mouth 
was too dry, her lips quivering too much to speak. The rods her hands and feet 
were bound to apparently were mobile. She managed a cry of surprise when 
suddenly they wheeled her away from the King and through the crowd of onlookers.
Chapter Seven
 
Marc searched the growing crowd, making a mental count of how many of his men 
were positioned. He didn’t miss the brooding look of the Gren while the man 
watched the King’s guards position Dree just outside the castle. Marc knew his 
friend wasn’t pleased that once again they were risking their necks to rescue 
this woman. But damn it to all the hells, she just didn’t seem able to keep 
herself out of trouble.
“The guards are not going to leave her,” Trent Dar, the Gren, spoke through his 
porta-comm.
Marc heard him through the porta-comm wrapped around his head. “Then we take 
them down,” he answered, turning a glare on the curious man who had approached 
and now stood next to him.
His harsh look was enough to make the man back away. Marc took in the growing 
amount of onlookers. “Let’s do our best not to hurt any of the townsfolk.”
Trent didn’t respond, but Marc saw him nod. Looking around the grassy area, he 
squinted against the suns while doing a mental count of how many people already 
closed in on the area.
Dree was captivating, spread-eagled, with her naked body on display for all to 
see. Her expression was placid, but he could tell by her heavy breathing how 
terrified she was. He had to give her credit for showing an incredible amount of 
bravery. More than likely her previous experiences as a sex slave enabled her to 
endure this moment better than another woman might.
The guards moved away from Dree just enough to make them easy targets. “Now,” he 
ordered, pulling his laser from the holster on his hip.
Trent Dar fired at the same time that he did and the two guards slumped to the 
ground without ceremony. Dree’s entire body jerked against the leather that 
bound her to the poles. She looked wide-eyed from one guard to the next, her 
shock turning to fear as her mouth opened, ready to scream.
They had to move quickly. If Dree started screaming, more guards would be 
alerted. This wasn’t how Marc planned on taking down the King.
Switching his porta-comm so that he spoke to all of his men, Marc barked out the 
order. “Secure the area.”
Marc didn’t wait to watch his men carry out the order. He moved through the 
crowd, chaos already mounting. A woman somewhere in the crowd started screaming, 
her bloodcurdling cries chilling him. Several men surrounded Dree, their hands 
all over her. Marc pulled one of them backwards, throwing him to the side.
“Wait your turn,” another yelled at him. The man already had undone his pants.
“There will be no turns.” Marc punched the man, his knuckles hitting the soft 
bones in the man’s nose.
The man stumbled backwards, one hand gripping his cock while the other covered 
his face, blood quickly streaming over his chin.
The other man had his mouth latched to Dree’s tit. Marc’s blood boiled, fury 
feeding him as he gripped the man’s hair.
Dree cried out when Marc broke suction. The man hadn’t bruised her, and although 
he was sure her nipple got a bit tweaked, it was nothing compared to the abuse 
she would experience if left strung up in the public square much longer. Dree 
would be fucked in every hole these men could get to, repeatedly, beyond what 
her body could take.
His hands shook when he reached for Dree. She trembled against his touch, her 
skin so hot through his gloves he felt it clear to his groin. “Hold still,” he 
ordered.
Her eyes opened wide at the sound of his voice. Those gray eyes looked wild, 
almost fierce. White strands of her hair draped over the delicate curves of her 
shoulders, ending at the full roundness of her breasts. Sweat gleamed across her 
skin, while her heavy breathing thrust her perky round breasts forward, her 
nipples jutting toward him as hardened peaks.
“Marc.” She breathed his name, her soft voice sending fire through him, 
hardening his cock instantly. “What took you so long?”
He wanted to laugh. His little ex-slave had anticipated him saving her. She had 
thought about him, had known he would be her rescuer. The blood seemed to drain 
through his body, sinking deep into the shaft of his cock. The pressure was 
almost unbearable, making it hard for him to concentrate.
“Hold still,” he told her again, knowing he needed to stay focused and move 
quickly or their small window of opportunity would be closed by the King’s men 
surrounding them. “I need to cut you loose.”
Squatting down was almost unbearable with his cock pressing painfully against 
the tightness of his pants. He ran his hand down her leg, glancing for the 
briefest of moments at her pussy. So sweet, so delectable. It called to him, 
begging him to place his lips against her smooth skin, kiss all pain away. He 
swore she thrust her hips forward, inching her pussy closer to his face.
Growling in frustration, he focused on her ankles and the black leather straps 
that fastened her to the metal poles. Pulling his knife from its holder at his 
waist, he swiped through the leather, her entire body slumping when her legs 
closed together.
“Hurry. Please.” She struggled against her confinement, but Marc needed no 
encouragement.
In the next minute he had her free and in his arms. There was no need to order 
his men out of there. They would see him run, and he was sure none of them had 
any desire to hang out next to the castle any longer than necessary.
Marc hurried through the growing crowd, no one trying to stop him. The Gren was 
at his heels, and Marc wasn’t pompous enough to think that the people parted 
solely because of him. Most feared the Gren, not trusting what they did not 
know. The race kept to themselves, riddled with tradition and strange 
ceremonies. The Gren’s dark forbidding look added to his sense of mystique. 
Trent Dar was a loyal friend, but his race provoked fear due to their deadly 
history. The Gren populated only a small part of their planet, yet had conquered 
all other races on it, showing the rest of the solar system they wouldn’t be 
messed with. That often made Trent a good man to hang out with.
Dree seemed to curl into his body. She wrapped her arms around his neck and 
buried her face against him, her hot breath setting the fire smoldering inside 
him to blazes. He could feel the swell of her breasts through his shirt, the 
softness of her skin, so pale and without tattoos, burned him wherever they 
touched.
Reaching the street at the end of the castle grounds he put Dree down and opened 
the carrier door. She climbed in without instruction.
“There is an incoming message from the King.” Trent Dar had slid his porta-comm 
off of his belt and now pushed several buttons on it. “It’s recorded, no 
response required.”
“Allows him the final say.” Marc took the porta-comm and slid into the passenger 
seat of the carrier.
Dree scooted up between the two front seats, sitting on the floor between him 
and Trent. He ran his hand over her hair, the act seeming so natural he had done 
it before giving it thought.
“What does the King say?” Her voice was soft, soothing. It surprised him how 
calm she sounded and glanced down at those gray eyes that seemed so much wiser 
than a slave’s eyes should look.
He turned his attention to the porta-comm, pushing the button to start the 
message. King Sorale appeared on the small screen. The ass lounged in his 
throne, appearing bored and unconcerned with any of his actions—like usual.
“Marc of Torin. Take the slut you appear to be so fond of. Consider her my 
parting gift to you. Be it known though, if you set foot on any part of my 
kingdom again, you will die.” With that the screen went blank.
Marc tossed the porta-comm onto the console, the King’s words an empty threat. 
“Apparently we won’t have an audience with the King today.”
The Gren grunted. Marc knew he wanted to tell him he told him so. The Gren 
thought less of the King than Marc did.
“You came here to see the King?” Dree looked from him to the Gren.
Marc wanted to pull her into his lap, feel the softness of her ass pressed 
against him. Those large breasts, so full and perky, swelled while he focused on 
them, once again sending the blood in his body straight to his cock.
“King Sorale will not be happy until all of Benox acknowledges his rule.” Trent 
Dar glanced down at her and then over at him before returning his attention to 
the road in front of him.
“Will he succeed?” Dree sounded worried.
“No.” That was one thing Marc was more confident of than anything. “The King 
will die for his efforts.”
Dree appeared content with his answer, her body relaxing as she looked down at 
her hands. The silky white hair flowed over her shoulders and down her back. 
Marc swallowed, trying to keep himself focused. The thought of her hair falling 
around her while she lay on top of him was a distraction not easily cast aside.
Trent put the carrier into gear and started down the street, not taking to 
flight but simply hovering over the road. Without saying anything, he pulled it 
off the road and parked it.
“Get out,” he said, without ceremony.
Marc looked at him questioningly.
“Out now. Something is wrong.”
The Gren’s expression left no room for argument. Marc opened his door, reaching 
for Dree. But Trent Dar was faster. He grabbed the woman, pulling her out 
backwards on his side. Marc jumped out of the carrier, moving around the front 
toward the two of them. A clicking sound was all the notice he got.
The carrier exploded. Heat and the pressure of the metal blowing apart knocked 
him off balance. Marc stumbled forward, and then hurried almost on hands and 
knees out of the way of the falling, burning metal that seconds ago was his 
carrier.
Smoke filled the air, burning his eyes. He strained to see through it, hugging 
the ground while he searched for the Gren and Dree. There was screaming and 
yelling all around them. The ground vibrated underneath him from people running 
up and down the street. Some distance away he could hear the alert sirens of the 
town patrol approaching. The last thing he wanted was to be detained in this 
city because the King had failed to kill him, or a fine for the mess his 
exploding carrier had caused.
He scurried across the ground in the direction he assumed Trent Dar and Dree 
were.
“Are you okay?” The Gren stood, wiping dirt off his clothes with the naked Dree 
standing next to him.
“Thanks to you, it appears we are all okay.” He let his gaze stroll down Dree, 
her body covered with dirt but no bruises or scrapes.
The Gren nodded. “I suggest we get out of here.”
“My sentiments exactly.” Marc grabbed Dree’s hand, pulling her along as they 
took to the street, fading into the confused crowd as the alert sirens sounded 
louder.
In the next minute, he lifted her, tossing her over his shoulder. Her adorable 
ass was an incredible distraction pressed next to his face and bobbing over his 
shoulder. He placed his hand directly over her ass and pussy, allowing her that 
much modesty as he hurried through the town.
“I can walk. I’m okay.” Dree protested only a bit while she adjusted herself, 
her head hanging upside down along his back.
“We can move faster this way. Be quiet for now,” he instructed her, moving his 
hand slightly over her most private, intimate area.
Her small hands gripped his waist while he held her securely like a cherished 
bag of goods he had tossed over his shoulder. The people in this kingdom were so 
accustomed to sex slaves that no one batted an eye at the naked woman on display 
as the two of them moved quickly through the town.
Trent spoke into his porta-comm. “Arrange to pick us up on the other side of the 
marketplace.”
They passed by a small arena where young women and men were on display for 
purchase. The smell of body sweat and rank pussy turned Marc’s stomach.
“What’s that bitch got that I don’t?” One of the girls inside the arena matched 
their pace, following them on the other side of the fence. “She looks too used 
up for her to be any good. Men like you two need some fire.”
Marc thought of telling the slut that Dree had more class than the woman would 
ever know. But then he wondered what made him want to defend Dree. The same 
thing that had him risking their necks saving her ass. Something about this 
little ex-sex slave. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but it called to him. 
More than just to his cock. Every protector instinct he had kicked into 
overdrive when he was around her.
The sound of a whip cracking made Dree jump.
“Get your ass over there and talk to the payin’ customers,” a man’s gravelly 
voice said.
The woman fell to the ground, a bright red line of blood instantly appearing 
across her back and ass. When the slave keeper raised his arm to strike the whip 
against her flesh again, the woman moved to her hands and knees, spitting dirt 
from her mouth.
She might have cursed, or begged him to stop. But they kept walking, Marc’s 
insides hardening while he held Dree closer to him. Nothing infuriated him more 
than people’s inability to properly care for others. He would kill anyone who 
treated Dree that way. The King being the first name on his list.
“This way.” Trent Dar nodded with his head and they turned the corner, taking a 
narrower road away from the merchants’ part of town.
“Where are my men?” Marc regretted not grabbing his porta-comm before running 
from the carrier. “We’re an easy target and I don’t like it.”
Again Dree squirmed in his arms. “I can move quickly.” She struggled to turn on 
his shoulder. “You don’t have to carry me.”
He ran his hand over her ass, wanting desperately to slide his fingers into the 
soft folds of her pussy.
“Hold still,” he told her. “We can move faster with you right where you are.”
Not to mention he liked her over his shoulder like this. Her soft belly pressed 
into his shoulder, her thin legs held together against his arm, and her full 
round ass, so tempting, was too much not to caress while they hurried down the 
less-used street.
Alert sirens sounded behind them, not too close, but close enough to grab Marc’s 
attention. “Anyone in this town would turn us in to get a favor from the King.”
“Agreed.” The Gren pushed a few buttons on his porta-comm. “We’ve got pickup 
coming toward us now. They swept around the town so as not to be noticed.”
If the King had any sense about him, he would have the entire area on alert 
looking for them. Leaving the carrier was probably crime enough to trap Marc. He 
knew how the King worked. He was a cheater and a liar, and would create a crime 
to snag Marc if he could.
The alert siren sounded closer, and then a second one followed. They were coming 
from two different directions. This was going to be close.
One of his guards broke through on the porta-comm. “We’ve got the King’s patrol 
on our ass. Want us to shoot them down?”
Hell yes, he wanted them destroyed. But starting a war with the King had to be 
planned out carefully. He knew His Majesty had a lot of power behind him and 
wouldn’t fall from the throne easily.
“Hold fire,” he said quietly, and the Gren issued the order. His friend then 
gave him a brooding stare. His dark eyes searched Marc’s face. “We won’t get out 
of town without more bloodshed,” he said after a minute.
“As long as it’s not our blood.” Marc turned, adjusting Dree in his arms while 
he looked behind them.
The buildings had thinned alongside the narrow road. Small homes, where most of 
the merchants lived, lined the street. And although most of the merchants were 
tending their shops, the area seemed too quiet for his taste. Except for the 
sharp wail of the sirens, there was little else going on around them.
Trouble brewed in the air. He could feel it, and the Gren probably sensed it 
too. While he watched, the King’s patrol turned the corner, the siren burning 
through his ears as it drew closer.
This time Dree almost flipped off of his shoulder. She struggled to be free, and 
he gripped her, while her body half slid down his front.
“You’d move a lot faster if you weren’t carrying me.” She slid down him far 
enough that her face was inches from his. Her gray eyes were wide with fear. The 
way her lips puckered when she finished speaking, an almost pouty look filled 
with determination, made him want to kiss her until she relaxed against him.
And she was anything but relaxed. She pressed her small hands against his 
shoulders, pushing away from him.
“Do you think you would stand a better chance of avoiding them if you ran from 
me?” He held her so firmly against him, the pounding of her heart became one 
with his own heartbeat.
“I think too much is at risk to slow us down by holding me like this.” She 
glared at him, but only for a moment.
The wail of the second patrol, its sirens sounding from behind the merchants’ 
homes, told Marc they were quickly being surrounded.
“They are going to catch us.” Dree squirmed in his arms, her full breasts 
brushing against his shirt while her legs kicked his in her effort to be free.
“This way.” Trent Dar pointed toward the other side of the street and then took 
off running.
Marc didn’t have time to throw Dree over his shoulder again, and he would be 
damned if he would leave her. She would be captured and killed, and he knew her 
death wouldn’t be pretty.
“I’m not leaving you,” he hissed into her face, and pulled her up to cradle her 
in his arms before taking off in a full sprint after the Gren.
Shots fired at them from the patrol carrier coming down the street after them. 
Marc dodged alongside one of the homes.
“I don’t want to die.” Dree cried into his ear, clinging to him with more 
strength than he would have guessed that she had.
With her small body wrapped around him, Marc took in his surroundings. “Get our 
carrier here,” he growled at the Gren, who seemingly ignored his threatening 
order and instead looked around them as well.
The sirens were so loud they grated on Marc’s nerves.
Standing in between two homes, shaded and partially out of view by the low 
hanging roofs, the two men watched the King’s patrol move slowly down the 
street. King Sorale’s guards would follow their orders, but Marc knew from 
experience their training was based on manipulation and fear. In battle they 
wouldn’t stand a chance. His only concern at the moment was shielding Dree if 
laser fire broke out.
“We need to get to the edge of town.” Trent Dar gestured for them to keep 
moving.
“The King’s men are everywhere.” Dree twisted in Marc’s arms, her naked body 
pressing against him while her ass slid along his arm. “You two would move 
faster without me.”
“And if we leave you here you will die.” Marc knew his tone was harsh, but there 
wasn’t time to argue, and her squirming was a distraction to his libido.
Laser fire hit one of the roofs, sending the cheap woven fibers of tree leaves 
and plastic flying everywhere. Dree screamed and more fire sent part of the wall 
next to them shattering into airborne pieces.
Marc almost crawled, with Dree gripping his torso, through the flying debris. 
“Hold on tight, and be quiet,” he ordered, hurrying toward the backside of the 
houses.
“There is our cruiser.” Trent Dar pointed and then looked around them quickly. 
Without another word, he took off in a full sprint toward the cruiser.
Marc was right behind him.
“Where are the King’s men?” he asked after he and Dree almost rolled into the 
back of the cruiser.
He had landed almost on top of Dree, but moved quickly to his knees. Trent moved 
to the passenger seat while the guard put the carrier into full speed.
Trent began pushing buttons on his porta-comm. “Damn near just about 
everywhere.”
“Well, get us the fuck out of here.” He turned to Dree, her wide gray eyes 
peeled to the front windows, a mask of terror and frustration on her pretty 
face.
“We’ve got troops surrounding the city.” Trent Dar looked at him, his coal black 
eyes so intense they were on fire. “Just say the word and we attack.”
Chapter Eight
 
Dirt flew up against the windows while the cruiser bumped over the uneven road. 
Marc fought to keep his balance, and more than once Dree fell into him. Her 
smooth, soft body was too much of a distraction. Her nipples were as hard as 
rocks, and her round ass felt too damned good in his hands when he gripped her 
to keep her from falling over.
With an exasperated sigh, he pulled his shirt from his body and wrapped it 
around her. “Cover yourself so that I can think about something other than 
fucking you,” he told her between clenched teeth.
He saw the teasing smile as her eyes glowed at him, a soft gray that swirled 
with lust. But her expression remained serious. “With the King’s men all over 
town trying to catch you, it might be the perfect time to attack him,” she said 
quietly.
Marc knew Dree probably had never trained in the logistics of war. More than 
likely she had never been in a battle in her life. And other than seeing her 
homeland destroyed, he doubted she had any experience in combat.
“The King will die. I promise you that.” There was no reason to explain to her 
his plan. All he would do was offer her assurance that her treacherous life 
would be no more. He would see to that personally.
“I will not destroy this town because their King is unjust.” He spoke to Trent 
Dar, who simply nodded and then turned his attention to the porta-comm in his 
lap.
“I’ve got us out of town,” his guard, Rantok, told him. The burly man slowed the 
carrier a bit, its engines growling underneath them. “We’ll meet up with the 
first stationed troops here soon.”
“Dar. Send a message to the King.” Marc leaned back against the side of the 
carrier, stretching out his legs.
Dree adjusted herself as well, sitting cross-legged next to him, those soft gray 
eyes as distracting as her thin willowy, creamy white legs. She hadn’t buttoned 
his shirt, yet merely slipped her arms through the sleeves and wrapped it around 
her. Her ample breasts pressed against the fabric. Covering her had done little 
to keep his thoughts off of how fucking sexy she was. He loved how she had no 
problem being naked, but at the moment he wished she were a bit more modest. All 
he could think about was fucking her.
He turned so he wouldn’t see her. “Let him know that we will attack if we don’t 
have his immediate surrender. Include the list of grievances we’ve worked up—his 
demand that the people of Torin pay such a high tax simply because we work 
harder than most. Let him know we will not acknowledge his leadership any 
longer.”
“And say that his treatment of the people in his kingdom is unacceptable,” Dree 
added.
“We’ve arrived at the troops’ site.” Rantok glanced over his shoulder and slowed 
the carrier to a crawl.
“The message is sent.” Trent Dar closed his porta-comm. “I’ve given him until 
the sunsrise to respond.”
 
Before the suns were even up the next morning, Marc walked through the quiet 
camp. It had been a restless night. He’d put Dree in a carrier not too far from 
where he’d camped with his men. Guards were on duty, and he had no doubts she 
would be left alone, but thinking about her had made it hard to sleep.
“Dar. Wake up.” Marc nudged the Gren with his boot.
Trent Dar opened his eyes, his expression alert as if he’d simply been lying 
there with his eyes closed instead of sleeping.
“We’re going to head into Lengorc. I want to be there before sunsrise.” Marc 
moved away from the other sleeping men with the Gren standing, and then 
following him. “We’ll alert the city officials of our ultimatum to the King. Let 
them know we will offer protection once we attack the kingdom.”
“You have no doubts King Sorale will refuse to surrender.” Trent Dar fell into 
step next to Marc.
There wasn’t much need to answer. The Gren knew as well that King Sorale would 
never step down. “We fight with dignity, for honor. A surprise attack would only 
have caused unnecessary deaths.”
The Gren nodded. The two of them were cut from the same cloth, which was why 
Marc had made Trent Dar his right-hand man. Although from Greneen, Dar believed 
in fighting for a cause, and not for monetary gain.
“King Sorale will plan a surprise attack.” Trent Dar stopped next to Marc, 
outside the carrier where Dree slept. “He won’t care who he destroys in his 
attempt to keep the throne.”
“There will be no throne once we are done with him.” Fire burned through Marc 
when he thought of how underhanded the King might be in his attacks against 
Torin. “But I don’t dispute what you say. We both know the King will not play 
fair.”
The Gren nodded, running his large hands through his black hair while he looked 
off into the distance. “You make the right move, my friend. All will be better 
for Benox once the King is removed.”
“Which will be better for all surrounding planets.” Marc grinned, knowing no 
matter how loyal his friend was to the cause of Benox, the Gren’s true loyalties 
would always lie with Greneen, his home world.
The Gren nodded, moving around the front of the carrier toward the driver’s 
side.
Marc would have enjoyed waking Dree a bit differently if time had permitted. She 
lay on several thick blankets, her creamy white body spread deliciously over the 
soft bedding he’d provided for her. Long silky strands of white hair fanned 
around her head. The shirt he’d given her the night before twisted around her 
body, her adorable ass visible as she lay sleeping on her stomach.
Her eyelids fluttered when he opened the cargo door and lifted the boxes of 
supplies he’d prepared for their trip into Lengorc. Sleepily, she watched him 
for a moment, those large gray eyes of hers slowly taking in his actions.
“What are you doing?” The sound of her voice, like lazy music taking its time to 
come to life, sent a rush of energy through him that he wished he had time to 
indulge in.
Everything about her, from her incredibly sexy body, to the sultry way she 
looked at him, set his body on fire. His cock was hard instantly, the desire to 
feel her heat wrapped around him making it hard to move, let alone respond.
“We are taking a small trip to Lengorc.”
“I’ve heard of the town.” She sat up, looking down at herself while she adjusted 
her shirt around her body. “Some of the merchants visiting the castle would talk 
about the place. I hear it’s nice.”
“It has much to offer.” He watched her small fingers work the buttons on his 
shirt, almost regretting the fact that she felt the need to cover herself. “If 
we had more time I would enjoy showing the highlights of the town to you.”
She nodded, turning her attention to the boxes he’d situated behind the 
passenger seat of the carrier. The Gren climbed into the driver’s seat, busying 
himself with loading programs, and preparing the computer for their journey.
Marc finished organizing the supplies he wanted them to have, and then climbed 
into the passenger seat. They pulled out of camp silently, the guards on duty 
nodding solemnly when they drove by.
The first sun barely hovered on the horizon when they arrived on the quiet 
streets of Lengorc. Dree had moved to her knees between the two seats so she 
could see out the windows. Her expression didn’t change as she looked at the 
tall buildings, most of them built from the rich land of the area, giving the 
stones a dark green shade.
Marc woke the older man who tended the small inn that he liked to stay at when 
in Lengorc. After getting them a room and seeing that Dree was safe, he and the 
Gren made arrangements to see the city officials.
By midmorning, Trent Dar was off to prepare his men for attack, and Marc entered 
the nice room he’d reserved, needing to see Dree before he met again later with 
the Lengorc leaders.
She stood from the comfortable couch where she’d been sitting, staring out the 
large windows to the busy street below.
“This is the most beautiful place.” She smiled, running her small fingers down a 
chic Bosha tan gown.
The close-fitting outfit was designed to be comfortable, and was similar to 
dresses most of the women in Lengorc wore. Made from the thin material woven 
from the Bosha tail, her sweet curves were easily seen. Marc could only stare at 
her for a moment, enjoying how her full round breasts pressed against the 
fabric, her dark nipples visible and hard. The soft curve of her hips, her flat 
stomach and unmarked skin contrasted the color perfectly.
See-through fabric was usually worn to allow a lady to show her adorned body, 
the intricacy of her tattoos giving color to an otherwise plain gown. But Dree, 
with her pure white skin, made the dress appear more erotic, leaving nothing for 
an admirer to look at other than the hardened nubs of her nipples poking against 
the material, and the hint of her shaved pussy barely visible against the tan 
fabric. Obviously she’d taken advantage of the amenities of the room. He liked 
how she’d removed the hair between her legs, the smooth skin enticing and very 
hard to look away from. His cock hardened instantly.
“Beyond beautiful,” he murmured, moving in on her, watching her gray eyes when 
they met his gaze. “Where did you get the dress?”
Color graced her cheeks, while she watched him approach her. “I didn’t have 
anything to wear.”
“I know.” He continued to approach her until he stood within inches, the swell 
of her breasts beckoning him to fondle them. “Where did you get the dress?”
“One of the maids brought it to me when I told her that my clothes had been 
lost.” The crimson that appeared on her cheeks made him want to smile.
He kept his expression serious though while running a finger over the delicate 
strap that rounded her shoulder. “And how did you pay this maid?”
Hints of gold sparkled through the gray in her eyes when she looked up at him, 
her lips moving to form words before she spoke. “Would you have me naked?”
“It’s a tempting thought.” He traced the strap over her shoulder, the silky 
material covering her breasts tormenting his fingers. It would take no effort at 
all to rip the dress from her body.
“I’ll pay you back somehow.” Dree suddenly looked upset. “I charged it to the 
room. I didn’t have anything to wear.”
Marc felt like a heel for not making arrangements for her to clothe herself 
before leaving this morning. The urgency of their visit had weighed heavy on him 
though, and all he had worried about was that Dree was safe before leaving her.
“You owe me nothing.” He reached for her arm instead of her breast, and pulled 
her to him.
He had to taste her. The perfumed soaps she must have used while bathing had 
soaked into her skin, their musky scent drifting around her adding to her 
beauty. And her lips were so soft and moist. He brushed a kiss over them and she 
pressed her body against his, her delicate hands reaching for him, leaving 
trails of fire while they glided up his shirt to his shoulders.
Dree returned his kiss, her mouth so hot when she opened to him that he swore 
she would burn him alive. Their tongues met, her cautious curiosity causing a 
fever to ignite in his brain.
Everything about her was a contradiction. Her sexual experience surpassed 
anything he’d ever experienced. He had seen her bound and spread-eagled in a 
crowded room. He’d seen her move with grace without any clothes on. Yet to touch 
her, to kiss her like this, her hesitation, her soft touch as her fingers slid 
over his body, nothing she did gave him any indication she was skilled in the 
art of fucking.
Dree leaned against him, every soft curve molding into him. Her warmth rushed 
through him, feeding the fire that already burned through his blood. His heart 
pounded with a fierceness he could barely control. The desire to bend her over, 
glide that material over her sweet ass and drive inside her, overwhelmed him.
He ran his hands down her arms and then gripped her waist, the sensual 
narrowness of it made her feel even more vulnerable. He could do what he wanted 
with her, take from her, control her. The thought of having her do whatever he 
wanted was a turn-on, more so than he ever realized it would be.
“I need to fuck you.” He wouldn’t hide anything from her. Not to mention he had 
a feeling she already knew that.
“I need you, too.” Her breath was so hot against his neck when she lowered her 
head and spoke.
The fact that not only did she want him, but she needed him, drained all the 
blood from his body and sent it straight to his cock. Here was a woman who 
fucked whoever she was told. He wouldn’t even ponder on how often she had sex 
daily when she’d been a slave.
But she needed him.
He lifted her, wasting no time carrying her to the adjoining room. The large bed 
hadn’t been touched. He had requested this room, specifically remembering the 
bedroom, and thinking the last time he was here how wonderful it would be to 
fuck a willing lady in it. Never had he imagined it would be someone like Dree.
She slid down his body, standing in front of him when they reached the edge of 
the bed. Her gray eyes were glazed with desire, her breaths deep and long, 
causing her breasts to rise and fall slowly, pressing against the delicate 
fabric of the dress.
“I don’t want you to fuck me like you have other men.” He brushed his thumb 
across her cheekbone, running his hand over her chin.
Wrapping his fingers around her delicate neck, he lifted her head so that she 
could look only at him.
“Don’t fuck me out of some sense of loyalty, or appreciation for saving you.”
Dree relaxed against his grip, the pulse of her blood, racing through her body, 
a driving beat against his finger.
“And I don’t want you to fuck me like you have other women.” The sureness in her 
tone had him raising an eyebrow.
“How is it that you think I fuck other women?” he asked.
“I won’t be just another fuck of convenience.”
He had read her wrong. Running his hand down her neck, over the delicate bones 
of her chest, he realized Dree had put being a slave behind her. And she had 
just put him in his place by saying what she did.
“Nothing about you is convenient.” He loved how her eyes glowed when she smiled.
She reached for him then, her small hands gripping his shirt, tugging at it.
“Nor will I be your slave,” she told him, her eyes focused on her task of 
removing his clothing.
She moved too fucking slow. His cock would explode if he didn’t free it from his 
pants. The confinement would boil him alive.
“I don’t own slaves.” He watched her unbutton his shirt, and then fan her small 
fingers through the hair on his chest.
“Another redeeming quality you possess.” Her quick answers, her quiet wit, made 
him wonder what kind of owner she had on Poltar. Surely an understanding master 
who had encouraged his slaves to think for themselves. Marc decided he must have 
been a good man.
She looked up at him when her fingers wrapped around the top of his pants. 
Searching his face, her expression seemed almost innocent. Marc realized that in 
a sense this might be the first time she had fucked a man because she wanted to. 
Something inside him stirred, an emotion he wasn’t ready to label. He gripped 
the sides of her head, combing his fingers through her silky locks.
“Take my pants off, woman. I can’t stand it any longer.” He sounded like he 
begged her more than ordered her. What was it about her that made him want to 
throw himself at her, posses her and at the same time beg her to continue to 
want only him?
Dree giggled, the sound almost musical. “I doubt you will break.”
She lowered her head while he had his hands through her hair, the strands 
draping over his hands while she looked at what she was doing.
Marc closed his eyes. Every sensation she offered him, the aromatic smell of 
her, the way her fingers felt against his skin, how easily she moved against 
him, everything about her burned through him, singeing his very soul.
Dree undid his pants, her hands so dangerously close to his cock, yet its 
confinement enough to make him crazy. Holding still became more of a task than 
he ever imagined.
Marc was a trained leader, a warrior since his youth. He had learned to control 
his emotions, keep his feelings at bay. Yet everything about Dree washed right 
through years of hard lessons and accomplishments. She was a challenge he wasn’t 
sure he could meet. Throwing her on the bed, ripping that dress from her body, 
pounding her cunt until she screamed would be way too easy to do at the moment.
“Look at you,” she breathed, and wrapped her fingers around his cock.
Marc’s toes about curled in his boots.
“Suck it, baby. I need to feel that hot mouth of yours around my cock.” Marc 
pressed on her head, guiding her to her knees in front of him.
Dree looked up at him and smiled before focusing again on his cock. Her fingers 
alone worked magic. Her touch when she glided her hand down his shaft brought 
his blood to a raging boil. She cupped his balls, teasing him beyond anything he 
could describe as fair. He balled his hands in her hair to keep himself from 
thrusting his cock down her throat.
“Woman. You are tormenting me.” As hard as it was to talk, he would let her know 
he could only behave for so long.
“I think you can handle it.” Her coy response about undid him.
She wasn’t fazed by his breaking point. Thoughts of teaching her a small lesson, 
letting her know what she was messing with, entered his mind.
Marc almost cried out when her lips wrapped around the tip of his cock. Heat 
from her mouth, her slick moist tongue, burned him alive, taking the fever 
inside him to a dangerous level. Gritting his teeth, he grabbed her head, 
pushing his cock deeper into her smoldering mouth.
Dree’s tongue danced around his cock, stroking him while her lips coaxed him 
deeper into her moist heat. Nothing he’d ever experienced felt as good as this.
He tried to move slowly, tried not to be brutal. But he swore she encouraged 
him, egged him on as he worked to move slowly in and out of her mouth.
Sliding deeper and deeper, he felt her throat constrict around his cock head. He 
could spill his seed down her throat right now. He exhaled, his blood pumping so 
furiously through him that he could barely catch his breath.
“You suck cock better than anyone I’ve ever known.”
Dree looked up at him, her mouth opened wide with his cock buried deep inside 
her moist heat. Humidity rushed through him, suffocating him, his insides 
boiling with blood pumped faster and faster through his body.
His clothes constricted him. They were in the way. Struggling with his pants, he 
pushed them down. Her tongue worked magic against his cock while she helped 
slide his pants down his legs.
“Enough.” He wrapped his fingers around his shaft, sliding it free from her 
mouth. The air in the room gave him a chill, but the throbbing pain deep inside 
him didn’t diminish. “Take off your dress.”
If he so much as touched that gown she wore, he would rip it from her.
Dree straightened, her movements as smooth as silk. “You don’t like this dress?”
But even as she teased him, her words sultry and like fire to his already 
overheated system, she reached for the delicate straps, sliding them over her 
shoulders.
“I love the dress.” He clenched the muscles in his body, wanting desperately to 
touch her. “And right now it would look best in a pool at your feet.”
Her smile was delightful. If she had any awareness of how much restraint he used 
right now just to keep his hands off of her so he could watch her undress, he 
doubted she would be so relaxed.
The thin Borsha material slid over her breasts, her brown nipples instantly 
hardening while he watched. He sucked in his breath; her beauty intoxicated him, 
overwhelmed him, and almost brought him to his knees.
Dree’s soft gray eyes studied him, searching for his approval while she slid her 
dress over her hips and then stepped out of it, letting it puddle to the floor.
Marc had to touch her. “Damn it, woman.” His insides burned with a need too 
strong to control. Something about Dree, her sensual body, the craving in her 
expression, made him want to devour her.
Cupping her breasts, his hands glided over her soft flesh, the fullness and 
softness of her overwhelming him. He squeezed them, forcing her nipples to 
pucker and point directly at him, teasing him, inviting him closer.
“Marc. I’m on fire.” Her words were out on a breath, so soft, caressing over him 
like a gentle breeze, urging the flames within him to dance into a mad rage.
It took some effort to speak. “Tell me what you want.”
She looked up at him while he squeezed her nipples. The expression on her face 
was priceless, her lips parting at his gesture, a lust-filled haze passing over 
her eyes.
“You. Please. Fuck me,” she whispered.
Marc released her breasts, running his hands across her chest, over her 
shoulders and down her arms. “Why do you want me?”
The haze covering her beautiful gray eyes dissipated. Her tongue darted over her 
lips, making them shine with moisture. His cock throbbed painfully while he 
watched her suck in her lower lip and nibble on it while considering her answer.
She placed her hands on his chest, her touch branding him, the heat soaring 
through him making it hard not to grab her and bend her over right in front of 
the window. Her fingers tingled against his skin as she ran it under his shirt, 
pushing it over his shoulders.
“I haven’t been able to quit thinking about you,” she confessed. She didn’t look 
up at him, her long lashes fluttering over her eyes while she focused on his 
chest.
She wanted him. It wasn’t that she just wanted to get laid, ease an ache that 
time had created. Her body craved him.
He gripped her arms, turning her toward the bed. “Move,” he ordered and then 
swatted her ass, the sharp sound about making him explode from the desire that 
rushed through him.
Blood pulsed through him, his cock pounding for relief. She sat down on the edge 
of the bed, turning so she faced him. Her legs spread while she adjusted 
herself, her beautifully shaved pussy glistening with her moisture.
Marc could barely stand. He needed to bury himself deep inside her before he 
exploded. He climbed over her, forcing her down, her long strands of hair 
drifted over her shoulder when she collapsed underneath him. Her fingers traced 
tantalizing lines across his skin, prickles of excitement rushing through him, 
burning desire tearing at him.
“You better be ready for this.” He needed to warn her.
Everything about her was so soft, so gentle and adoring. But he didn’t feel soft 
at the moment. Nothing inside him wanted to be gentle. She tore at him with her 
beauty and her grace, bringing him to a raging boil. It was too late to stop his 
craving.
When she looked up at him, those lashes fluttering over her sensual eyes, he saw 
no fear, no worries or hesitation. Dree smiled, her lips parting while her 
breasts seem to swell in front of him, full and lush, eager for his attention.
“I am.” Her answer came on her exhale.
His cock absorbed the heat from her pussy before he even touched her. Her 
moisture clung to him when he pressed his cockhead against her entrance. Dree 
lifted her legs, wrapping them around him while she held on to his shoulders. He 
swore she pulled him into her, urging him to take all she had to offer.
“I won’t be gentle.” He gritted his teeth, forcing himself to wait a minute 
longer until he knew she understood what was in store for her.
“I don’t want gentle.” Her response surprised him. But there was no time to 
think about it right now.
Marc sank into the heat of her pussy. Muscles spasmed around his cock, sucking 
him in further, while smothering him with more heat than he thought he could 
handle. Nothing could have prepared him for how Dree would feel. So hot, so 
fucking tight, so damned wet. He never would have believed she had been a sex 
slave if she hadn’t told him herself.
Dree arched underneath him, her pussy moving around his cock while she adjusted 
to his impalement.
“By the gods,” she cried out, exposing her adorable neck when she rolled her 
head, her eyes closing while her mouth formed a perfect circle.
Marc dared not sink further in her. For whatever reasons, she hadn’t been fucked 
in a while, and her tight, suffocating cunt needed to be prepared for what he 
was about to do to her. Pulling back, gliding over her quivering muscles, Marc 
held his breath, trying not to plunge deep inside her again too quickly.
“No.” Dree opened her eyes, her look tortured. Those delicate hands glided over 
his body, gripping his hips. “More. I need more.”
“Woman.” He would hurt her. More than anything he didn’t want to do that.
“Now damn it!” She dug into his thighs, pulling him down, demanding he fuck her.
Marc plunged into her cunt, his thrust hard and forceful. Her inner muscles 
stretched around him, contracting as he plunged deeper than he had before.
Dree cried out, digging into his flesh with her fingers, holding on to him while 
he buried himself in her moist heat. Her legs went around him like a vise grip 
and he grabbed them, straightening to his knees, while he forced her knees open, 
spreading her.
“You asked for this,” he almost growled, driving into her again and again while 
holding her legs apart.
“Yes. Damn. Yes.” Dree gripped the bedspread with her fists, her arms next to 
her head while her silky strands sprayed over her face.
The way she tossed her head from one side to the next made her hair fan around 
her. Her breasts bouncing while her nipples hardened like dark temples demanding 
his praise, grabbed his attention, hypnotizing him for a moment.
The heat from her cunt swarmed through him, slowly consuming his insides. His 
cock was on fire, driving deep into her tight hole with every thrust. Looking 
down at her, her legs spread wide against his grasp. She was the image of 
perfection. The way his cock slid in and out of her, the way her rich cream made 
her skin glisten, everything about her made him feel he was dreaming.
Marc closed his eyes, knowing if he continued to watch Dree he would explode 
before he wanted to. Focusing on how she felt, how her heat absorbed through 
him, he plunged with more force, holding on to her so she wouldn’t slide up the 
bed.
“So good.” Dree had hair strewn across her face. She whispered the words while 
balling the blanket on either side of her head with her fists.
“You like that?” Marc lifted her ass off the bed, stretching her legs further 
while his cock disappeared into the soaked folds of her heat.
“Yes. Oh. Yes.” She opened her eyes, stretching her arms to brace herself while 
he held her up and fucked the shit out of her.
Her muscles began contracting around his cock, her juices flowing with a fire 
that nearly burned him alive. Dree stared at him, her gaze hooded with her long 
lashes. The way she looked at him, her mouth moving slightly as if she tried to 
speak, he knew he’d found his match sexually. She took his beating, his cock 
driving inside her with a force many women couldn’t handle, and she craved it.
Pulling out of her, his cock a throbbing feverish weapon ready to explode, Marc 
grabbed her hips, anxious to turn her over.
“Get on your knees.” He helped her readjust, her shiny white hair streaming down 
the curve of her back while her perfectly rounded ass appeared before him.
“Hurry. Damn it. Marc. I need you back in me.” The strain in her voice let him 
know how close she was.
And he’d felt her orgasm coming, the almost vibrating titillation of her 
muscles. But there was so much of her to explore. Just fucking her like this was 
so damned hot. And her willingness, her eagerness, the way her body responded to 
him, he had to know more about her, feel her from different angles, experience 
all she could be.
Every molecule in him about exploded when he looked down at her soaked cunt, her 
rich cream coating her skin, glistening from her ass to her clit. She exposed 
herself to him, stretching her legs, her ass in the air, the side of her face 
pressed against the bed.
“You are so fucking hot.” He gripped her ass, opening her further.
Running his fingers over her pussy, her cum soaked him, while the heat from her 
absorbed into his hand, rushing through him and making his cock dance. The pain 
inside him was almost unbearable. He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen a woman without 
tattoos on her ass, but the pure creamy white skin gave Dree almost a virginal 
look. How fucking ironic. He doubted there was an inch on her that hadn’t been 
enjoyed time and time again.
“Do you like it here?” He ran his cum-soaked fingers over the tight puckered 
hole above her pussy.
Dree didn’t answer at first, her body jerking slightly from the incredibly 
intimate touch. He looked at her face, her eyes closed with several strands of 
white hair hiding part of her expression.
“You can fuck me there if you like.” Giving her consent was probably more than 
she’d ever been able to do before.
But consent wasn’t what he wanted. “I didn’t ask for permission.”
She opened her eyes, lifting her head to look over her shoulder at him. “I…” she 
began, those sensual gray eyes appraising him.
“Do you like your ass fucked, Dree?” He wouldn’t accept her worried look that 
somehow she’d just offended him.
Suddenly the signs of years of being a sex slave rushed over her. She was 
trained to please, to offer and enjoy whatever her partner wanted. But now she 
would learn a new way of fucking.
The pain from his cock, yearning to bury itself deep inside her once again, made 
it difficult to concentrate. Years of warrior training came into play when he 
forced himself to be patient, to play out this necessary scene.
Sliding his moist finger into her incredibly tight hole, he watched her 
expression. Her lips quivered, while the muscles in her back and ass tightened. 
Such intense beauty, no color adorning her skin, no designs hiding the natural 
beauty of her body.
Her eyes fluttered shut then opened again while she turned her head, straining 
to focus on him. “A couple of times I’ve liked it. But not always. Most men love 
to fuck a lady’s ass though. Go ahead if you want to.”
“You will love and crave wherever I fuck you,” he told her.
He ran his fingers over her cunt, lubing them with her thick hot cream, and then 
once again slid his finger in her ass. “And when I fuck you here, it will make 
you explode like you never have before.”
A sigh escaped her lips, her mouth opening and shutting while her expression 
relaxed. She enjoyed him finger-fucking her ass. And as much as he wanted to 
bury his cock deep inside that tight little hole, he saw that she needed to 
relax, needed to accept how good it could be there.
Adjusting himself, he gripped the soft cheeks of her ass and pulled her cunt to 
his cock. Without warning he plummeted deep inside her, deciding at that moment 
that learning about Dree might just be the best experience he’d ever had.
Chapter Nine
 
Dree couldn’t stand it. Her body quivered with need as if she’d never been 
fucked before. And that was so far from the truth.
“I’ve never had it like this,” she said on a gasp, knowing he wouldn’t 
understand, wishing she could tell him what he was doing to her.
“We’re far from done.” His voice was husky, his fingers gripping her ass.
Her muscles quivered, tightening, contracting while the pressure inside her 
grew. Her eyes fluttered closed, the intensity of the feelings rushing through 
her so strong she could hardly think.
But she wanted to see him, watch this glorious warrior perform magic on her 
body. Forcing her eyes open she strained to look over her shoulder. Such 
powerful arms, a broad chest with hair sprinkled across it. Every inch of him 
was hard, solid.
“Woman.” His growl sent shivers through her.
Waves of pleasure danced through her, of anticipation, of an aching desire to 
watch him when he exploded deep inside her.
“Don’t come yet,” she whispered, knowing he could give her so much more, wanting 
to have this moment last forever.
He smiled, seeming to know her thoughts. “I’m going to watch you explode first.”
He pulled out of her, leaning back on his haunches while he stared down at her 
hungrily, his eyes darkening to a dangerous blue while his jaw hardened. His 
cock aimed full and erect, shiny with her thick juices coating it. She licked 
her lips, her mouth suddenly watering as she imagined cleaning her cum from his 
cock.
Her body vibrated on the edge of her orgasm though. Moving quickly so that she 
could suck him into her mouth wasn’t as easy to do as she wished. Maybe she was 
out of practice. Never had she hesitated before in moving to keep a moment 
alive. But her training didn’t seem to apply here for some reason. The fluid 
movements she’d mastered over the years of being a slave seemed lost to her now.
She would get up. Give her just a second to catch her breath and she would move 
to her knees, take him in her mouth, suck him dry.
Marc reached for her, taking her under the arms and lifting her to him, 
depriving her of that second.
“You are the most beautiful creature I’ve ever laid eyes on,” he whispered, 
bringing her to him.
Before she could answer he devoured her mouth, his tongue sinking deep into her, 
kissing her with so much intensity her tummy twisted with pure delight. She 
melted against his chest, her breasts tickled by his curly chest hair while she 
wrapped her arms around his massive shoulders, clinging to him, falling 
desperately and holding on for dear life.
Damn all the gods. She could love this man. Anything he wanted she would give 
him. He was moving fire within her, bringing her to a level she’d never 
experienced before—and with just a kiss.
“Dree,” he breathed into her mouth. “What are you doing to me?”
“You feel it too?” she asked and then realized how stupid that sounded.
His growl of response sent shivers through her, although she burned inside and 
out from a heat that couldn’t be sated. She worked to focus, wanting to see his 
expression, needing to see what he wouldn’t say. Was he loving her? Did this go 
beyond fucking?
His soft curls pressed against his forehead. His expression serious as he stared 
down at her. “I feel a need to please you. You are going to experience pleasure 
like you’ve never experienced it before.”
Something in those blue eyes moved her. She would drown in his gaze if she 
didn’t look away. Men had promised her many things before—none of them seen 
through. Marc wasn’t promising her anything. Yet she believed him more than 
she’d ever believed another man.
He wanted to see to her pleasure, what mattered to her. Something fluttered in 
her heart, causing it to skip a beat. This man, Marc of Torin, strong enough to 
take on the king, ensure justice to his people, appealed to her more than any 
man she’d known. And it was more than his aggression, his domination; the man 
had compassion and viewed others as equals, seeing the good, or the bad in them 
and not judging them because of their rank.
This was dangerous territory. She would lose her heart to this man if she 
weren’t careful. If she hadn’t lost it already.
When she would have told him, spoken out and told him he was moving her like no 
other man, he reached for her shoulders, pushing her down.
“Suck, baby.” His words weren’t an order, but a request, a gravelly rasp that 
sent bolts of electricity straight to her cunt.
Spoken with such assuredness though, she moved with the quickness she hadn’t 
possessed a moment before, eager to have his cock in her mouth.
The thickness of her cum around his cock made her mad with need. Sucking him 
into her mouth, she craved her own taste. Lapping at him, wrapping her lips 
around him while moving him in and out of her mouth, she worked to catch every 
bit of her own cum from his shaft.
“That’s it, baby. You love that cock, don’t you.”
Dree moaned, her insides constricting from the pleasure of tasting him. She 
feared she might love more than just his cock. But it had to be the compassion 
he showed her, the skills he possessed to bring out her basic needs. This was a 
man as experienced as she was in lovemaking. Maybe she’d simply met her match.
Whatever the truth, she couldn’t stop the craving that grew inside her. On her 
hands and knees, her ass up in the air, her back arched, her cum seeped from her 
cunt, flowing from her when she couldn’t stop the orgasm that convulsed through 
her. Never had sucking a cock made her explode before. No man had ever made her 
need him so bad she would explode just from thinking about it.
She was way over her head with Marc of Torin. Met her match—hell she was afraid 
she wasn’t even in his league.
Her muscles tightened, her ass and pussy craving the cock that she soaked with 
her mouth, adoring its hardness and thick strength.
“Damn it, Dree. You are eating me alive.” His body convulsed, his cock swelling 
in her mouth.
He would explode in her mouth and she ached to taste his salty richness. Marc’s 
hands went to her head though, pulling her back, gripping her while he freed 
himself, leaving her mouth swollen and empty.
“Turn around.” And this time it was an order.
She scurried to obey, needing him back inside her as much as he obviously craved 
her.
The darkness in his eyes, an intense shade of blue that verged on dangerous, 
stole her breath. His expression was so serious, so intent on watching her. The 
hard curve of his cheekbone, to the straight line of his lips, every bit of him 
was a man determined, capable of so much. The look on his face bordered on 
carnal. She sucked in her breath, her entire body an exposed nerve ending 
underneath that scrutinizing gaze.
Positioning herself toward the head of the bed, his large hands gripped her ass. 
Strong fingers kneaded her soft skin, pressing into her, stretching her, opening 
her. Her thighs coated with fresh cum when he spread her open.
“So fucking beautiful,” he mumbled, his fingers pressing against her pussy and 
ass.
She exhaled, offering herself to him when he ran his fingers from her cunt to 
her ass, lubricating the small hole, preparing her. His finger worked the tight 
entrance, easing its way in, his heavy breathing telling her he labored while 
waiting to ensure she could handle him.
Her heart raced against her ribs, her own breathing accelerating while she 
waited for him to enter her, wanting his cock in her ass more than she had ever 
imagined she would.
And when he removed his finger, positioning his moist cock, soaked from her 
mouth, at the entrance of her ass, she quivered, anticipation arching through 
her like a bow pulled tight, waiting for release.
For a moment, when he pushed inside her, she thought her muscles would give out, 
causing her to collapse underneath him. She held herself in place, feeling the 
sharp pain shoot through her. The hair on his thighs tickled her legs when he 
pressed into her. She felt his body tremble, could sense the inner strength it 
took for him to move slowly, enter her with care. Closing her eyes to fully feel 
the incredible pleasure that washed through her as he spread her ass open, she 
reached between her legs with her hand, fondling her oversensitive clit.
“Oh gods. Fuck yes.” She couldn’t help herself. Pushing back quickly she forced 
him deeper inside her, the sting hitting as the arrow released, plunging through 
her, rocking her senses as another orgasm ripped through her.
“Damn it, baby.” Marc held tight to her hips, controlling her movements while he 
began pulling out slowly.
“Fuck me.” She needed him deep inside her, plunging through her.
She didn’t want slow and easy. She wanted—no, needed—fast and hard.
“Faster,” she begged. “Fuck me hard and fast. Please.”
He plunged into her, releasing a growl that vibrated through her, tearing her 
apart as he speared her ass, fucking her hard and quick. The pain had been 
replaced with a pleasure more acute, more intense than she could handle. 
Throwing her head back, she cried out, knowing she would die from the pure 
pleasure of this carnal act.
“I can’t,” he cried out, but was unable to finish his sentence.
Hot semen exploded into the fire of her tight cavity. Then her arms did give 
out, her body unable to handle anymore of the pleasure he’d offered her. He 
pumped his seed inside her, coating the fire inside her, satisfying her more 
than she ever knew possible.
 
Marc barely slept a few hours when her luscious body woke him. Fire burned 
inside, the need to fuck her again raging through him. He took her in her sleep, 
enjoying her soft mews as she slowly awoke, realized what he was doing, and 
purred with pleasure.
Much to his surprise, when he was done, she pushed him on to his back, sucking 
his cock until he cried out for her again. Then like a fairy in the night, her 
white hair streaming around her beautiful creamy white skin, she rode him, 
slowly and sensually, arching her back and exposing her long neck while she 
cried out his name.
“I want to take you to Torin with me,” he told her.
She lay collapsed on him, their breathing one, relaxed soft inhales and exhales 
of two lovers intertwined in the night. He stroked her back, her long silky 
strands of hair feeling good under his hand.
“Tell me about the place. Have you always lived there?” she whispered, her 
breath tickling his shoulder.
“Yes and my father before me, as well as his father before him. You will like it 
there. A beautiful place where hard work is rewarded by bountiful land.”
She chuckled. “I know nothing about farming.”
He hadn’t imagined her farming, and smiled although he knew she couldn’t see his 
face. “You won’t be farming. You will ride alongside me, overseeing the land, 
offering advice. Somehow I think you would be good at that.”
She raised her head, her gray eyes staring at him intently for a long moment. 
Her lips were full, a pouty expression although he knew her mind was absorbing 
the meaning behind his words.
“I will go with you.” Her words were a promise.
The intensity of them, the finality of her decision to be with him, made 
something break inside him. A dam, a lifetime of feelings closely guarded, broke 
and washed through him, cleansing him, making him feel almost lightheaded.
Yes. Dree would do well at his side.
Chapter Ten
 
The sound of a door closing woke Dree up. The covers twisted around her, 
wrapping her in their warmth and security. She lay there for a moment, allowing 
her eyes to focus on the elegant drapes that hung over the long window at the 
other end of the room. It was still dark outside.
When had she last slept so well? The plush comforts of the room, the large bed 
that held her, nothing had compared to this since sleeping with her master on 
Poltar. And those times had been few and far apart.
The few times she’d been with Torl though were engraved in her brain. He’d been 
a skilled lover, gentle yet secure in how he would fuck her. Dree had expected 
Marc to be similar.
Marc hadn’t been gentle, although he’d far from abused her. But she’d expected 
him to be more demanding, more like Torl. After all both were leaders of their 
people, accustomed to giving orders and having them followed without question.
Dree rolled over, looking toward the doorway, wondering if someone had just 
arrived or left the room. She heard nothing now. More than likely Marc had just 
left to handle business. She was alone again.
Stretching, the muscles in her body immediately retaliated. Her pussy and ass 
throbbed, the burning pressure building quickly the longer she lay there awake. 
It wasn’t as easy to climb out of bed as she thought. Her legs were like jelly. 
Last night had been incredible.
But it had also confused her. Marc hadn’t fucked as a sex slave, but a woman 
with a mind of her own. Over and over again they had fucked each other. She was 
sore and stiff and wanted him again desperately. His words afterwards hung in 
her mind. Taking her home with him, being by his side—had he been serious? Her 
heart constricted, hope rushing through her that Marc of Torin was as attracted 
to her as she was to him.
But why would a man like him want a woman like her?
“Men make no sense,” she mumbled, and walked on shaky legs to the bathroom.
Two days in a row now she’d bathed. This was almost as good as her life on 
Poltar. But this wasn’t Poltar. Nothing would ever be like Poltar. Her home, and 
simple happiness were gone.
Dree stepped out of the bathing area, the silky water rushing down her legs as 
she reached for the towel.
“You need to hurry.” The sharp command didn’t come from Marc.
Dree stood frozen in the middle of the small room staring at the closed door. 
Trent Dar spoke again.
“The attacks will start soon and it would be best to get out of here.” He moved 
away from the door, his boots making a dull thud sound on the floor.
She found the Gren in the outer living area, sitting at the table looking at 
printouts and focusing on his porta-comm. He stood when he saw her, gathering 
his things within a minute.
“Let’s go.” He offered no explanation but headed toward the door.
Dree watched his backside. The large man in front of her wore all black, the 
cape hanging over his shoulders giving him the appearance of being even larger 
than he was.
“Where are we going?” she asked, and when he didn’t answer, she tried again. 
“Where is Marc?”
They had reached the lobby and Dree noticed immediately that no one was around. 
Trent Dar still hadn’t given her any answers but took her arm and guided her to 
the door.
Her stomach tightened when they stepped outside, nervous energy rushing through 
her. The first sun had crept over the horizon, its warmth doing nothing to 
soothe the chill of unease that crawled over her skin like tiny spiders.
“Trent.” She stepped around him, needing some answers. “What did you mean by 
attack?”
“I’ve been asked to protect you. There is no time for more knowledge now.” Those 
black eyes of his were haunting. This man from Greneen was a complete mystery, 
his expression revealing nothing. His tone and mannerism, however, turned her 
stomach into knots.
Trent held the control to the carrier out in front of him, pushing the button 
that allowed the doors to open silently. For the first time, she rode up front, 
next to him, instead of sitting back in the cargo area.
But this wasn’t a joyride. The street she had stared down on the day before, 
which had been alive with the people of Lengorc, now looked deserted. Memories 
of Poltar, its towns quiet with a chilling hush, sent shivers running through 
her. Her homeland had been destroyed, torn apart by the Bortan. Dree closed her 
eyes for a moment, telling herself she wasn’t about to live through the same 
nightmare again.
Trent Dar said nothing while he guided the carrier along the quiet streets. 
Lengorc was a decent-sized community and showed signs of being fairly 
prosperous. Most buildings, with their dark green hue from the stones dug from 
the land in the area, were well-kept. The second sun rising offered long shadows 
and made windows glisten adding a cheery sensation.
But Dree didn’t feel cheerful. Her body yearned for Marc’s touch, her pussy 
still throbbing from their lovemaking the night before. Her breasts were swollen 
and her nipples craved his mouth, his warm heat suckling, pulling her into 
heated temptations. No man had ever stirred her this way. The next day after 
fucking a man had been just that. She’d never ached to be with someone a second 
time.
Letting her thoughts drift toward Marc, she wondered where he was, why he had 
told Trent Dar to protect her. And she was certain the Gren had received his 
orders to take care of her from Marc. But what was he doing that she couldn’t 
have been with him? The possible answers to that question put an evil knot in 
her gut. Marc of Torin was attacking the King—which meant he could die.
And she’d just met him, just fucked him. There was so much to this man; he 
wasn’t like anyone else she’d ever met. Glancing over at Trent Dar, his dark, 
brooding expression unreadable, she wondered if he’d been stuck taking care of 
her because Marc didn’t know what else to do with her. She’d met many men over 
the years, men from all walks of life. And one thing she knew about Marc of 
Torin was he was a warrior. The man walked through life with a code of honor. He 
had pulled her out from under King Sorale’s grasp, saved her from a fate worse 
than death. And now he was obligated to see she remained safe.
Trent Dar slowed the carrier and Dree looked outside at their surroundings. They 
had arrived on the edge of Lengorc, the houses large and spread apart. Guards 
walked past them, all of them heavily laden with weapons that made her stomach 
churn. Today would not be a good day. She felt it in her bones.
The carrier’s doors slid open and she stepped outside after the Gren got out on 
his side.
“Report,” Trent Dar said to the nearest guard.
The guard glanced at her but then straightened, giving his attention to the 
Gren. “The first attacks against King Sorale have been successful. The second 
armies wait for orders now.”
The Gren nodded, a slight breeze lifting the silky black hair around his face. 
Dree watched him, her thoughts drifting to what Marc might be doing right now. 
She was certain he would be in the heart of battle, ensuring his men took down 
the King.
Her heart tightened with worry and soared at the same time, her insides 
clenching with fear. Marc of Torin had more courage than she could imagine, 
taking on the ruthless King, fighting for so many who couldn’t fight for 
themselves. Marc had a good life, his personal existence and status obviously 
one of comfort and respect. Yet he fought to take down King Sorale because of 
how the King treated others.
“Troops are ready to head toward the kingdom.” Another man approached them. He 
was large with a thick stature. Pudgy cheeks made his eyes appear squinty, and 
his dark orbs traveled quickly over the three of them. He turned his attention 
to Trent Dar. “I suggest we keep a good amount of men here. The King has sent 
out troops. They know we are here.”
“How do they know this?” Trent crossed his arms over his large chest, the long 
black cape he wore draping over the back of his shoulders.
“They are monitoring us. We’ve captured their transmission.”
The Gren nodded, the news not surprising. Even Dree would have guessed their 
enemy would go after computer transmissions to find out where the orders were 
being sent from. She desperately wanted to know where Marc was, but held her 
tongue.
A group of carriers turned the corner at the end of the street and approached 
them. Several gliders hovered in front of them, leading the party. Within 
minutes, a large amount of men and women embarked and suddenly orders were being 
barked from all directions, a handful of people directing the rest.
Trent turned to reach for her when a skinny man, wearing the similar garb as the 
rest, brown clothing made of material too thick to see through, came running 
from the house.
“There is an air raid,” he yelled, waving his hands in the air.
Suddenly chaos broke out. Men and women ran everywhere. A large humming sound 
invaded Dree’s senses before she realized what was happening.
“Come on. Hurry.” Trent Dar grabbed her arm, his grip digging into her skin, and 
almost yanked her off of the ground.
At the same moment she saw gliders in the sky, hundreds of them it seemed. The 
ground underneath them exploded, dirt flying everywhere, as they shot lasers 
toward them.
Dree heard herself scream, memories of her home exploding, fire everywhere, 
people running helplessly from the attacks, invading her thoughts. Trent Dar 
pulled her away from the troops. She had no idea where he took her, but followed 
quickly, her heart racing while a lump formed in her throat. Many innocent 
people would die today so that others could live without suppression.
Trent Dar opened the door to one of the homes and threw her inside. “Stay here,” 
he ordered, turning around before she could question him. “The walls will resist 
the explosions.”
Dree struggled to her feet, the slight burn in her leg where she’d just torn her 
dress and scraped the skin, nothing compared to the sickening feeling that grew 
in her gut. Reaching for the door, ready to close it, she watched the ground in 
front of her explode in a straight line, lasers tearing the town up as attacks 
continued from the sky.
Through the cloud of dust that formed thick in front of her, she watched Trent 
Dar fall and roll across the ground. Whether he successfully dodged the attack 
from the gliders above or not, she couldn’t tell. Dree stood frozen in the 
doorway, her eyes fixed on the black-clad figure while he tumbled over himself, 
his cape billowing up around him.
He didn’t move. Dree stared in horror while his cape puffed up like a mushroom 
over him and his body lay crumpled underneath. If he were dead after trying to 
protect her, she wouldn’t be able to live with the knowledge. Not to mention, 
Marc would never forgive her. This was his friend. His comrade in battle. Marc 
of Torin had trusted Trent Dar to do everything in his power to protect her. But 
he wouldn’t have wished the man dead just so she could live.
Another explosion occurred, the ground shaking beneath her.
Dree closed the door quickly, tears burning her eyes while she looked around at 
the room she’d been left in. Boxes of supplies, more than likely ammunition and 
parts for the carriers, were stacked along the walls. It took a minute for her 
eyes to adjust, while her heart raced and a putrid taste rose to her throat. Her 
hands shook and her legs were wobbly. The burn from the scrape on her leg, when 
she’d fallen into the room, began to consume her and she looked down at the long 
rip in her new gown. A gown she’d so frivolously purchased.
Screaming and yelling subsided outside, and Dree no longer heard anything flying 
overhead.
“Please forgive me.” She knew her words were silly. But her heart ached for 
knowledge of Marc, and the Gren, who had risked his life to save hers.
Chancing a peek outside, she opened the door, the smell of dirt and burning 
flesh clogging her senses immediately. Someone howled pathetically, but she had 
to take a moment, standing there, the sensation to vomit overwhelming her.
These attacks would have happened whether she’d been there or not. But she 
couldn’t get the growing thought out of her head that Marc’s rescuing her, yet 
again, had put this town in jeopardy. There was no way of knowing if he would 
have housed his headquarters here if she hadn’t been with him. And the thought 
that he’d altered plans, attacked sooner than he’d anticipated because of her, 
made her sick to her stomach.
With a quick glance she noticed Trent Dar no longer lay on the ground. If he 
were dead would they take his body? Or had he only been injured? There was no 
way he could have crawled away that fast if he’d come to, injured, and working 
to get out of the way. But she didn’t see him anywhere.
She wouldn’t have more people dying because of her. A sickening feeling rushed 
through her, clamping down on her heart, when she realized that she needed to 
leave, somehow strike out on her own, and prevent anyone else from dying because 
of her.
Grabbing the bottom of her torn dress, she hiked it up above her knees, and 
darted across the smoke-filled area. Too much was going on for anyone to notice 
her, she was sure of that. She ran behind the houses, away from the fires, just 
as she had done when her home burned on Poltar.
What seemed like hours later, Dree stopped running, looking around the open 
field where she stood and back toward the town of Lengorc. A dark cloud of smoke 
covered the area where she had been. Tears burned her eyes, tracing hot paths 
down her cheeks. Her insides clenched with misery. A fear burned her insides 
alive. Never had she felt so alone as she did now.
Thoughts of Bean, of Pren and the others still at the castle filtered through 
her. Was the castle under attack?
“Please be okay.” She stared up at the sky, the brightness of the two suns 
making her squint. “Even if I were there, what could I do?”
A rumbling noise just about made her jump out of her skin. Dree froze, her hands 
going up in a self-defense reaction. Unable to hide in the open field, she stood 
there, knowing she would be dead any minute. Her heart raced painfully in her 
chest while a cold sweat broke out over her skin. Looking around frantically, 
she noticed several older model carriers, similar to the kind that brought 
shipments of goods to the castle, driving toward her. She watched while they 
slowed to a stop.
There was no way she could outrun laser fire. One of the doors of the carriers 
slid open and she watched a man climb out and stand next to it. He appeared to 
be waving at her.
“You there,” he yelled, obviously talking to her since there was no one else 
around. “What are you doing there?”
She had no idea what to do. Clad in the simple gown, with no means of defending 
herself, she felt too vulnerable. But there was no hiding the fact that she 
stood in the middle of the field, not moving, staring at them.
If they were friend or foe, she had no choice but to respond.
“Running,” she yelled.
The man gestured with his hand for her to approach. Her legs were stiff, sore 
from her quick exodus, and her feet burned. The undergrowth seemed to tear at 
her flesh when she began moving, approaching the carriers while panic rushed 
through her. Being at someone else’s mercy was getting a bit old.
“Hurry girl. Get in.” The man talking to her was older, more than pudgy, and 
gesturing furiously for her to hurry.
He didn’t sound aggressive. His appearance showed no indication that he meant to 
be hostile.
“For the gods’ sakes, hurry and get in before the Bortan descend on the chaos.” 
He stepped back into the carrier, reaching to help her aboard.
His last words made Dree hurry. Just thinking of how the Bortan raided her 
planet, and the destruction they were capable of had her realizing boarding with 
this stranger was much safer than risking running into the cruel man/machine 
beings.
“Where are you headed?” She climbed in, almost falling to the side when the door 
shut at the same time that the cruiser took off again.
Dree looked up at the woman driving while the lady looked over her shoulder at 
her briefly, before returning her attention to the road.
“Back to the farm,” the older man told her after adjusting himself against the 
opposite wall of the carrier and then plopping down, his brown trousers bunching 
up, revealing thick hairy ankles. “Won’t be no market to buy in today.”
“Do you know what happened back there?” The woman driving spoke, not taking her 
eyes off the road. “We heard rumors the King would attack, but do you know why?”
Dree could guess at the answer. There were easily several reasons why. That 
these people might not know any of them made her wonder. She stared at the back 
of the lady who focused on her task. Thick black hair tumbled over her 
shoulders, balled up at the end in a round bun, making it impossible to guess 
its length. The lady wore trousers like the others in the carrier, but she was 
younger, much younger, possibly about Dree’s age.
“I’m not sure what is happening.” She decided saying less might keep her safer 
longer.
The man in the passenger seat hadn’t addressed her yet. She studied his back, 
noticing only his dark hair and large stature. He didn’t turn around to address 
her but focused his attention out the window.
Dree adjusted herself on the floor of the carrier, crossing her legs, content to 
sit out the ride in silence.
Her legs were stiff when the carrier finally slowed, turning off of the road and 
then parking. She climbed out first, staring at the plush land around her, when 
the lady who had been driving walked around to stand next to her.
“You hardly have a thing on.” The woman stared down at Dree, more than likely 
taking in her lack of tattoos.
Dree in turn took in the woman speaking to her. A colorful vine pattern crossed 
around the woman’s arms, ending between her fingers. She’d never seen ink like 
that on someone before, but liked it. The woman’s expression showed her dislike 
of Dree’s appearance. Her dark eyes glanced down to Dree’s bare feet, and then 
back up to her face.
“I didn’t have time to prepare for the attack.” And it was true. Not that she 
would have had any clothes to change into, but this woman didn’t need to know 
that.
“Obviously.” She turned to the man who had rode in the passenger seat. “Alert 
everyone that there’s been an attack. I’ll head up to the house in a few 
minutes.” She turned back to Dree. “Come with me. Let’s find you some better 
clothes.”
The woman still didn’t look satisfied with Dree’s appearance after she’d lent 
her brown trousers and a button-down shirt. Shy of the tattoos and the woman’s 
dark hair, Dree thought they looked somewhat alike, the clothing doing nothing 
to show off either of their figures, but decided not to comment.
“Thank you,” she said, and the woman shrugged then turned to leave the small 
living quarters.
Trepidation trickled through Dree while she followed the silent woman toward a 
large home. Made from the same green stones so common in Lengorc, the house 
stood on top of a hill, reminding her oddly of her master’s home back on Poltar.
In the short time since she’d arrived, no one had given her any indication that 
these people were hostile. They’d offered her a ride and she’d been given 
clothes. Although not very social, there was no reason for fear. At least none 
that was apparent.
But Dree couldn’t get her heart to stop racing. She was further from the castle 
and her people than she’d ever been. It was impossible to say where Marc was at 
the moment, or if he even knew she was missing. And there was nothing that she 
could do to find out how anyone was doing, or if they were still alive.
Sucking in a tormented breath, she held her head high when they neared the large 
home.
“If you want work here, you better be ready to tell them what you can do.” The 
woman hadn’t said a thing since she’d given her the clothing.
Dree stared at her, a few loose strands of black hair partially blocking her 
view of the woman’s face. It hadn’t occurred to her to ask for work. Dree 
exhaled, wondering how she would ever make it on her own when thoughts of taking 
care of herself were still so foreign.
She needed to quit thinking like a slave. The only problem was she had no idea 
how a free person thought.
The woman stepped onto the long porch, her boots clicking across the smooth 
wooden floor. Dree followed silently, her bare feet padding against the cool 
surface.
“Wait here.” The lady didn’t look behind her but continued into the house, 
leaving Dree standing at the door.
Taking a step or two into the foyer, the smooth wood under her feet felt cool. 
Dree took in the simple home, elegant in a way that wasn’t flashy. Whoever lived 
here hadn’t been here long. The smell of fresh wood proved the house had 
recently been built.
A hard knot twisted in her stomach when footsteps sounded on the floor. The 
woman reappeared, a man with her. Dree held her breath when she saw the tall 
good-looking man approach. Grey eyes, almost lavender, pierced her with a 
scrutinizing stare.
“We have no need for sex slaves.” His tone was harsh—and familiar.
Dree’s mouth went dry while her palms grew damp. A heat rushed through her, 
embarrassment burning her cheeks. Her heart raced, but she’d come too far, 
risked too much to walk away with her head down.
“I’m not a sex slave.” She swallowed a thick lump that lodged in her throat and 
forced herself to look in the eyes of her former master’s enemy. “As you well 
know. I am free, Trev of Kopah.”
She thought she saw humor dance in the man’s eyes. He tapped his finger to his 
lips, studying her. Then slowly he walked around her. More than anything she 
wanted to back away from him, refuse to be studied like a slave on the seller’s 
block. But something inside her, maybe old habits that hadn’t yet died, held her 
in place. She held her head high though, refusing to humble herself in front of 
this former sex breeder from Poltar.
What was he doing here? So many questions raced through her mind. He said he had 
no need for sex slaves, so obviously he either had as many as he needed, or 
simply had no interest in a former Torl sex slave. Either way that was fine. 
Dree had no desire to be owned by this man, or any man. Freedom had come at a 
high price, and she would do all that she could to keep it.
Nonetheless, Trev of Kopah was Torl’s enemy. He recognized her for what she was, 
and she had just let him know that she knew his identity. And she was on his 
property, in his home. Fear gripped her, making it hard to keep her knees from 
wobbling. Her heart raced so hard she was sure he could hear it. And try as she 
would, it was real hard to keep her head and think straight when she worried she 
had walked into some kind of trap.
This man might have been from her home planet but none of that mattered. He 
wasn’t Torl. And nothing would replace the wonderful life she’d had with her old 
master. Unable to take it any longer, she turned to look at Trev.
He stood to her side, still tapping his finger against his lips. “What do you 
want?” he asked her.
“Nothing.” She clasped her hands behind her back, meeting his brooding stare. 
Her body still shook with fear; standing up to this man took all the strength 
she could find. Searching for words on top of that proved almost impossible. But 
she had to show him she knew how to be free. “I ran from the explosions. Your 
slaves picked me up and brought me here.”
The woman coughed loudly. “I am hardly a slave,” she snapped. “Some appreciation 
I get after giving you clothes.”
She turned and stomped out of the house, slamming the door not too kindly behind 
her.
Trev of Kopah actually smiled. “There are no slaves here. We no longer deal in 
that business. We are farmers and I fear you’ve just upset one of my better 
employees. It’s not a good idea to get on Borna’s bad side.”
He sounded so nice, almost too nice. And he was the closest thing she’d seen of 
home since her arrival on Benox. But she couldn’t let her guard down. In spite 
of the nerves that were wound so tight in her that she could barely breathe, she 
somehow had to keep her wits about her.
Dree wrapped her arms around her waist, gripping herself in an effort to stop 
the growing pain of fear building in her gut. “I didn’t mean to offend her.”
“What was that racket?” A woman came down the hallway, her tone alarmed and 
worried.
Dree turned to look at her and her mouth fell open. Everything around her 
suddenly started to spin, her fears and embarrassment, her panicking and her 
worries all coming to a head at once.
The woman stopped in mid-stride, staring at her as well. A slow smile appeared 
on her face.
“Dree. I never thought I would see you again.” She held her arms open, walking 
toward her.
Dree stared back in disbelief. She accepted the hug, adjusting herself so as not 
to hurt Marla of Torl, who was quite obviously very pregnant.
Chapter Eleven
 
Dree sat in a large airy room, simple yet classy, facing her former mistress. 
She’d never been more nervous in all of her life. More than anything she wanted 
Marla of Torl to see her as independent, confident, sure of herself. But she 
couldn’t relax, had no idea what to do with her hands, and seemed at a loss for 
words. Her incompetence irked her.
“You must tell me everything.” Marla glowed from the life growing in her, 
obviously quite happy. “How did you escape Poltar? And where have you been all 
of this time?”
Dree glanced past Marla to Trev, who leaned in the doorway, appearing quite 
relaxed and just as happy. For the life of her, she couldn’t figure out what the 
two of them were doing here on Benox together.
“A shuttle brought some of us over. We were told there would be jobs for us.” 
Dree remembered those days too clearly. How naïve she’d been to think a shuttle 
driver cared at all about helping them find work. “Of course he lied. He’d 
thought he could sell us to King Sorale, but the king took advantage of his 
incompetence and then ignored us after he had us.”
“So where have you been all this time then?” Marla shook her head, not appearing 
surprised by her comments about the King.
“We’ve been at the castle.”
“There are others from Torl with you?” Marla grinned, turning to look up toward 
Trev.
He moved to stand behind her, caressing her shoulder. Dree tried not to stare, 
unnerved by the fact that these two known enemies were obviously so intimate 
with each other. The Torl and Kopah sex plantations were known rivals on Poltar. 
Marla had never spoken nicely of them. She wondered how long it had been going 
on. Maybe the two of them had an affair without their fathers’ knowledge. Dree 
glanced toward the window. None of that mattered now.
“There are a handful of us.” She chewed her lip, wondering if she might be able 
to get questions answered. “Do you know if the castle was attacked?”
“You don’t know?” Trev frowned at her. “I thought you just said that is where 
you have been staying.”
Dree’s heart almost stopped. She would never be a warrior, never have the skill 
to interrogate without giving away her own secrets. She shifted in the chair, 
suddenly feeling very uncomfortable.
“I ran away,” she lied. “The attacks happened while I was in Lengorc.”
“I believe the House of Torin attacked the kingdom. Where the attacks occurred 
and whether the King is still in power, we haven’t yet heard.” Trev showed no 
indication whether he thought any of this a good thing or not.
But Dree had just learned one thing. Neither of them knew the outcome of the 
attacks. She still didn’t know if Marc was okay, or not. Something clamped down 
hard on her heart, the pain wrenching through her. She looked down at her hands, 
clasped tightly in her lap, her knuckles white from how hard she held her hands. 
The material of her trousers itched, and she desperately wanted to pull at the 
collar of her shirt. She wasn’t accustomed to so much clothing, and the misery 
of not knowing how Marc was soaked through her, adding to her discomfort.
“You are welcome to stay here.” Marla’s tone was soft, obviously sensing her 
sadness, but misunderstanding its source. “We will do our best to let you know 
the standing of the kingdom as soon as we know.”
A thought stirred inside Dree, something she had to take a chance on. “I escaped 
looking for a better place for all of us, all of us from Torl.” She glanced up 
at Trev, worrying he wouldn’t like hearing the name of her former home, even 
though his large hands caressed Marla’s shoulders. “I need to find out if the 
others are okay. They are relying on me.”
Marla smiled. “You always were the mother hen, taking care of everyone. Who else 
is at the castle?”
“Bean and Pren, and some of the younger ones.” If she could convince them to 
help her go after the others, she would be able to find out where Marc was.
Marla smiled sadly, but Trev simply shook his head. “I will stress that you have 
your freedom. In no way will we force you to stay here. But right now is not the 
time to venture into the kingdom. I’m sorry. You are welcome here and once we 
have word from our contact, we will be sure and let you know when it is safe to 
return.”
Dree nodded, lowering her head. She needed to thank the gods that she was safe, 
and had found what appeared to be wonderful sanctuary. But her heart weighed 
heavy, needing desperately to know what Marc was doing, and even more so, if he 
worried at all about her whereabouts.
Dree agreed to stay and was given quarters in a long servant’s home, broken down 
into small apartments for each of the workers under Marla and Trev. For the 
first time in her life, she slept alone, in a small room assigned to her. Never 
had she had to sleep without others around her, and it was more than unnerving. 
When someone knocked on her door, she stared at it, startled. Her entire life 
people had walked into whatever room she was in. Her own privacy, respect… What 
else would she have to learn to accept?
Her fingers shook when she opened the door. Submitting had been so easy. Being 
assertive was taking a lot out of her. But if she was going to make it on her 
own, and not end up an underpaid servant, or sold back into slavery, she needed 
to figure out how to do this.
A young boy, about the same height as she, stared back at her, unimpressed, when 
she opened the door. He flung a lock of black hair out of his eyes before 
speaking. “Borna says no one brings you food around here. You want to eat, 
better get your ass over to the fire and get your share.”
Dree watched him walk away without saying anything else to her. Stepping out of 
her apartment, she saw that he joined a group of people standing around a large 
stone cauldron, laughing and carrying on.
“There’s the one we picked up wandering in the field.” The man who had yelled at 
her to get in the shuttle earlier, gestured with his hand for her to join them. 
“I see they got you looking normal now. Must say you looked prettier in that 
dress.”
“Shut up.” Borna glared at the man and then turned away from the cauldron, 
taking a bowl of something over to a large rock where she perched.
“She ain’t yours, Borna.” The man laughed, his belly jiggling.
“I don’t belong to anyone.” Dree stepped up to the caldron, smelling a rich 
meaty broth that teased her stomach to life.
“Don’t mean she won’t try to get you.” Again the man laughed.
“I said shut up.” Borna sounded fierce as she yelled at the man.
“I can defend myself.” Dree guessed that Borna probably led the servants. 
Usually there was some kind of pecking order. But she needed to show this woman, 
and the others, that she wouldn’t be bullied.
Borna raised an eyebrow, watching Dree over her bowl. “You ever been in a fight? 
You even know how to shoot a laser?”
Dree smiled at the man when he offered her a bowl of the thick soup, its aroma 
almost making her sick with hunger.
She turned to face Borna, and the woman let her gaze travel down Dree and then 
up again. Borna looked at her the way a woman looked at a woman when she was 
interested in her sexually. Fortunately, that was territory that Dree was 
comfortable in. She didn’t bat an eye at the obvious once-over the other woman 
gave her.
“I’ve never had the opportunity to shoot a laser,” she told her.
Borna stood, putting her bowl on the rock. Walking up to Dree, she took her bowl 
and placed it on the rock. “Well now is your chance.” She pulled her laser from 
her belt and handed it to Dree. “Shoot that tree over there.”
“Borna, leave her alone,” one of the other servants said.
Dree ignored the comment and so did Borna. Taking the laser, Dree’s hands shook 
when she pointed it at the tree. She pulled the trigger and not one branch on 
the tree moved. Several servants behind her snickered.
Borna took the laser from her. “That’s what I thought,” she muttered, returning 
to her rock, and her meal.
Dree looked at the backside of the woman, her black hair balled up and secured 
with a narrow stick at the nape of her neck. She had an athletic build, her legs 
thin but appearing muscular through her snug-fitting trousers. Borna wore the 
same shirt the rest of the people around them wore, but hers was untucked and 
tied at her waist allowing a small amount of colorfully tattooed skin to show.
“Did you learn to shoot the first time you fired a laser?” Dree asked her.
Borna sat down on the rock and just stared at Dree for a moment. The rest of the 
servants grew quiet. Her heart began pounding while nervous energy rushed 
through her. Apparently, not many spoke out to Borna.
The woman didn’t smile, and this time her dark eyes stayed on Dree’s face. “Eat 
your supper. Later I’ll give you another lesson.”
It was almost too dark to see the trees, and still Dree didn’t want to stop with 
her lesson. Borna was patient with her, but harsh with her words. Her actions 
countered her tone though.
“Hold your arms straight.” Borna stood behind Dree, her breath thick with the 
scent of their supper, as it brushed hot against Dree’s cheek.
Borna’s breasts pressed against Dree’s backside, her nipples aroused like hard 
pebbles caressing Dree through her shirt. Although she’d been with women before, 
usually it had been as a show to entertain the men. Dree didn’t know how to 
react to a lady being turned on while alone with her. She blew out a breath of 
air, focusing on keeping her arms straight.
Borna’s fingers glided over Dree’s arms, barely touching her, the sensation 
rippling through her giving her shivers. Borna was seducing her while teaching 
her to kill.
“That’s it. Look straight down the nose of your gun, aiming it at your target.” 
Borna’s words were no more than a soft whisper, as if their target was alive, a 
terrifying creature that might be alerted if they made a loud sound.
Dree pressed her finger against the trigger, the metal indenting her skin.
“Fire,” Borna breathed into Dree’s hair.
Dree pressed harder against the thin strip of metal.
Borna glided her hands over Dree’s shoulders, the heat from her touch traveling 
over her body, until Borna gripped Dree’s hips. The large branch Dree aimed at 
fell to the ground with a thud.
“I did it.” Dree stared through the darkness while delight surged through her.
She turned around, smiling. Borna ran her fingers over Dree’s cheek, the touch 
gentle. Her dark eyes were clouded with emotions Dree couldn’t read though. A 
warrior’s look with a lover’s touch. She hadn’t experienced behavior like this 
from a woman before.
Borna brushed her lips over Dree’s, soft yet demanding. “You’re a quick 
learner,” she whispered, ending the kiss without ceremony.
Borna was actually quite pretty when she smiled. Dark satisfaction appeared in 
her expression causing nerves of unease to tingle through Dree. The smile was a 
mere curve of her full moist lips. Yet Borna had the look of a satisfied 
predator. Dree wondered why she was being hunted. Was it sexual attraction, or 
something else?
“Thanks.” Taking a step backwards, she turned from Borna when the woman didn’t 
reach for her. “It helps to imagine your enemy while firing.”
Dree had spent the past hour imagining blowing the King’s head off while firing 
at the designated branches on the tree. Granted she’d missed most of them, but 
she was more comfortable with the weapon than she had been when she first fired 
it. But now something new drifted through the air, a feeling she got from Borna. 
She just couldn’t quite read what it was.
“If you are really going to learn to defend yourself, you need to be able to 
fight, and use more accurate weapons for one-on-one combat.”
Dree put the laser down on the table, understanding what Borna meant, but not 
having a clue what to do about it. She looked into the woman’s face, seeing no 
emotion there, just those dark orbs that watched her intently. A thick 
sensuality swarmed around the woman, her sultry moves a distraction.
Without warning the woman leapt, lunging into Dree, taking her down. Borna 
landed on top of her, the hard ground underneath knocking the wind out of her 
lungs.
“Lesson number one.” Borna didn’t move off of her, but braced her arms on either 
side of Dree’s face, her body pinning Dree’s to the ground. “Never trust a 
fucking soul.”
“Don’t hurt me.” Dree could barely breathe. “You know I can’t hurt you.”
Borna raised herself off of Dree so that just her legs trapped Dree’s lower 
half. Her dark lashes fluttered down, taking in the deep inhales that pressed 
Dree’s breasts against her shirt. Borna moved one hand, brushing strands of hair 
away from Dree’s face. This was new territory. All she could do was lie 
motionless waiting to see what this female warrior would do next.
Borna cocked her head, tracing her finger along Dree’s jawbone, down her neck, 
blood pulsing so hard through her veins she could hardly catch her breath.
“Yes. I know that you can’t hurt me.” Borna wasn’t looking at her face, her gaze 
appearing to follow the path of her finger.
“What are you going to do?” Dree sucked in her lower lip, nibbling it between 
her teeth.
Borna adjusted her weight, the ground underneath Dree digging into her back. She 
ran her fingers over the material that covered her breasts, sucking in her 
breath while she did so.
“You are so damned beautiful. I’m sure I could think of many things to do with 
you.” Still Borna didn’t look at her, those long thick eyelashes hooding her 
gaze.
She ran her tongue slowly over her lips, enjoying herself while she brushed her 
fingers over Dree’s hard nipples. When Dree sucked in a breath, those eyes that 
were the color of night gave her a hard look.
“And I have a feeling I would enjoy every minute of it,” she added.
Borna moved her body slightly, easing some of her weight off of Dree, but 
keeping her legs trapped with her own. She reached for Dree’s shirt, lifting it, 
the night air rushing over her too warm skin. Borna pushed the shirt up, 
exposing Dree, her breasts rising and falling with every nervous breath she 
sucked in.
“You are very beautiful too,” Dree told her, her mind racing to think of 
something to say so that Borna would let her up. She didn’t know this woman well 
at all, and had no clue if her words would outrage her, or simply get her more 
excited. She had to take the chance. “But I don’t imagine for a moment that I 
could do whatever I want with you.”
Borna puckered her lips, almost appearing to hide a smile. She lowered her head, 
her shiny black hair falling in strands over Dree’s white skin. Dree closed her 
eyes, feeling the moist heat from Borna’s mouth cover first one nipple, and then 
moving to the other. A staggered breath escaped Dree. Borna was good, not only 
at fighting, but at arousing a person too. She tugged on Dree’s nipple with her 
lip, letting it go and then licking it with a slow, graceful swipe of her 
tongue.
“Borna.” Dree had no idea what this woman wanted from her. If it was a 
relationship, Dree had nothing to offer her. If she wanted Dree’s body, it 
wasn’t for sale. “Borna…I…”
“For the sake of the gods, woman.” Borna grabbed Dree by her shirt, pulling her 
to her feet as easily as she had knocked her down. “Don’t you think I damned 
well know that? You were trained to fuck. And I’m sure you are mighty good. I 
was trained to be a warrior, but I learned how to be a damned good fuck. Now 
let’s see if you can be trained to fight.”
Borna ran her fingers down Dree’s arms, her touch gentle even though her actions 
had been rough. Dree took a step backwards, swallowing her nerves, allowing the 
large lump to settle uneasily in her stomach, while she straightened her shirt.
“I was born a sex slave. Doing anything else never crossed my mind.” She didn’t 
know about this. Attacking someone the way Borna had just attacked her, how 
would she know if they would fight back or not, or if they were a better 
fighter?
“And I was born a warrior.” Borna held her hands out, palms up, on either side 
of her, her dark eyes glowing with passion. “Yet look at me. Now I farm.”
Dree didn’t understand. She shook her head. “What does one have to do with the 
other?”
Borna stepped closer, her movement slow and quiet, like a cat, very feminine, 
yet somehow putting Dree on the defensive.
“I know how to kill, but that doesn’t mean I can’t grow things, too,” she said, 
her tone soft and low. “And you know how to offer pleasure, but that doesn’t 
mean you can’t also offer pain.”
Something in her tone chilled Dree’s blood. Icy fingertips seemed to trace 
patterns down her back while she studied the dark-haired woman. Borna was 
beautiful in a deadly sort of way. She definitely wasn’t someone Dree would want 
to piss off.
“I’m not into pain,” Dree told her honestly.
Borna smiled. “Neither am I. I’m into survival.”
That made sense. Dree had no idea what this woman’s story was, but something had 
brought her here, just as it had Dree. And like Borna, she too would survive.
“Will you teach me to fight?”
Borna smiled, running her knuckles over Dree’s cheek. “I already am,” she 
whispered.
Borna was aroused. Whether it was lust, or a true attraction, Dree couldn’t 
tell, but she knew arousal when she saw it.
Walking into her, Borna kissed her again, this time not touching her with her 
hands. Just their lips touched, Borna opening her mouth slightly, a fiery heat 
rushing through Dree.
Thoughts of Marc touching her, his fingers tracing patterns on her skin, his 
body pressed to hers, brought her senses to life. A sexual awakening and a 
passion to learn what she could from this woman, use her knowledge to grow, to 
be stronger—Borna offered that. What she wanted in return, Dree didn’t know. But 
she did know that there was always a price.
When Borna’s hands gripped Dree’s waist, her fingers seemed to brand her right 
through her clothing. Borna pulled her closer, meshing their hips together. A 
low groan escaped her lips and she deepened the kiss, wrapping one arm around 
her shoulder.
Dree returned the kiss, not wanting to offend Borna. She let her imagination 
draw up an image of Marc, his aggressive manner so unlike Borna’s, yet oddly 
similar, too.
She gasped when Borna slid her hand into her pants, running her rough touch over 
her belly and down to her most sensitive area.
“You are so damned wet.” Borna was breathing hard when she broke the kiss, 
licking her lips while she thrust her fingers deep inside the heat of Dree’s 
pussy. “Do I turn you on?”
“I enjoy sex,” Dree admitted, wondering if she should feel ashamed that kissing 
Borna had aroused her.
“And that is it?” Borna ran her teeth over her lower lip while her fingers 
spread inside Dree’s cunt, soothing a growing itch that formed deep inside. 
“Anyone could make you hot like this?”
“No. Not anyone.” Dree knew the King would never get her aroused. The Bortan 
would never fuck her without a fight.
“Then why are you wet for me?” Borna cocked her head, licking her lips while she 
moved her fingers slowly in and out of Dree.
“You want something from me.” Dree sucked in her breath.
“Yes, and?” Borna’s fingers began creating a new itch, a craving for something 
more than this woman could offer her.
“Well I want something from you, too.” Dree could hardly catch her breath. Fear 
and arousal pumped through her so hard she thought her heart might explode.
“What do you want?” Borna asked, slowly pulling her fingers out of Dree’s cunt, 
and then running her wet fingers, soaked from Dree’s come, up Dree’s belly.
“I want to learn to fight, to defend myself, to attack when necessary.” Dree met 
Borna’s gaze, wondering if her confession that she would allow Borna to do what 
she wanted in return for getting something out of the warrior would piss her 
off.
“You would give me your body in return for learning how to fight?” Borna 
whispered, her sultry tone more than unnerving.
“If I had to.” And it was the truth.
The only way she would survive on this planet was if she learned how to protect 
herself. And Borna wasn’t the only one with skills. Dree just needed to 
fine-tune hers in order to be as deadly as this warrior woman.
Borna didn’t say anything for the longest time. Then slowly, she walked around 
Dree, not touching her. Dree wondered if this weren’t another act of 
intimidation, since she had no idea what Borna’s next move would be, whether it 
would be aggressive or intimate.
“Hit me.” Borna’s words brought her out of her meanderings, slicing through her 
as if she’d pulled out a knife and punctured her skin.
“What?” Dree brushed her hair away from her face, her elbow burning when she 
bent it.
“Attack me the way I just did you.” Borna put her hands on the curve of her 
hips, her flat tummy appearing hard as rock between her shirt and her pants.
“I don’t know how.” Dree studied her, seeing how tense the woman was, her legs 
parted, her feet planted firmly on the ground. Her shoulders were thrown back, 
her nipples pressing like hard beacons against the material that stretched over 
her breasts.
“Imagine I’ve done some hateful thing to you. Fill your heart with anger.” Again 
Borna spoke in that sensual whisper. She could just as easily be whispering 
erotic promises, her voice was so low and beckoning.
The distraction was unnerving. No woman had ever turned her on before. But this 
sensuality of Borna’s was her best weapon. If she had this kind of impact on 
Dree, just imagine how she would be when fighting a man.
Dree filled her mind with images of King Sorale, his beady eyes filled with 
evil, his thin lips pressed into a sneer. Closing her eyes, she let her emotions 
fill her, focusing on how ill-treated they had been since arriving on Benox. She 
took a deep breath, peeking from underneath her lashes, and ran into Borna.
The woman threw her to the ground.
“Again,” she said. “If you fail, I will kill you. Attack me.”
Fear lurched inside Dree. Borna sounded like she meant it. Her hands and knees 
burned from the rough impact, but she forced herself to stand. This time she 
didn’t wait, but ran at Borna, raising her fists to strike the woman’s face.
Again she was knocked to the ground.
“Jump to the side when I strike back. Don’t let yourself fall to the ground.” 
Borna stood over her. “I could take you while you are down. Don’t let me do 
that.”
An hour later Dree was in tears. She was no match for this trained warrior. She 
refused to get up this time, her legs and arms screaming in pain from bruises 
and cuts.
“You might as well give up on me.” Dree shook her head, wiping her tears with 
the back of her dirt-covered hand, but unwilling to brush her hair from her 
face. She knew Borna was disappointed in her.
Borna reached down, sliding her hands underneath Dree’s armpits. Slowly she 
lifted her, like a mother would lift a child who had fallen in play. Instead of 
helping her stand, she picked her up, cradling her in her arms.
“The only way we give up is if you give up on yourself.” She turned toward the 
line of apartments, stepping silently across the small open field until they had 
reached the door to Dree’s small room. She carried Dree with little effort. This 
woman was obviously a lot stronger than she appeared. Never had she met anyone 
like Borna.
Kicking the door open with her foot, Borna entered the dark room, placing Dree 
down on her bed. Already the stiffness had set in throughout her body, her 
muscles racked from abuse she wasn’t accustomed to. Borna leaned over her, 
adjusting the blanket, and covered her with the gentleness of a lover.
“Tell me why you want to learn how to fight.” Borna sat on the edge of the bed, 
brushing the hair to the side of Dree’s face.
Dree looked up at the warrior woman, dark hair falling in strands around her 
oval-shaped face. Borna had a creamy complexion, her muscles so relaxed, her 
emotions so masked, it made her beautiful and dangerous looking at the same 
time.
She didn’t hide her voluptuous body with her shirt tied above her waist, and her 
full curves and colorful tattoos were more than a distraction. This was her best 
weapon though, her sex appeal luring and tempting. Dree had a feeling Borna 
could use her body as bait, and then easily destroy her enemy with her quick, 
deadly actions.
“I think that is obvious.” It even hurt to smile. Dree wondered if she would 
even be able to move come morning. “I don’t know how, and need to be able to 
take care of myself.”
The side of Borna’s mouth curved up, a small smile, her full lips moist although 
she ran her tongue over them anyway. “I think I like you, Dree of Torl. Marla 
said that I would.”
“She did?” Even though she shouldn’t feel that unending bind to her former 
mistress, her heart swelled at the thought that Marla would say kind things 
about her.
“Have you always been a sex slave?” Borna seemed comfortable on the edge of 
Dree’s bed, her hip nestled against Dree’s side. She reached out, running her 
finger down the side of Dree’s face, teasing the skin with a delicate touch. 
“Have you pleased your mistress before? Sexually, that is?”
She could have told Borna that was none of her business. That was the first 
response that popped into her head. But this mysterious woman had offered her 
services, spent time working with her when she could have been doing something 
else.
“Yes to both.” Dree knew there was no way she could offer Borna any pleasure 
tonight. Her body was too sore.
Those dark eyes smoldered at the knowledge that Dree had been with a woman 
before, or maybe just knowing that she’d submitted sexually all of her life was 
the turn-on. Borna traced a path along Dree’s jawbone, and then down the curve 
of her neck.
“It will be hard to overcome your submissive nature.” Her sultry tone was like 
enchanting music, soothing and beckoning.
Dree would never admit how hard. She lazily raised her shoulder, attempting a 
shrug while lying there. “Tell me about you,” she suggested, deciding to change 
the subject.
Borna raised one pencil-lined dark eyebrow.
“What makes a warrior decide to farm?” she asked, hoping her question didn’t 
offend Borna.
Borna lifted a strand of Dree’s hair, rubbing it between her fingers before 
letting it fall. She didn’t offer an immediate answer, the silence growing 
between them while the room seemed to grow darker.
“That answer would terrify you.” Her words sent a chill through Dree’s body.
She adjusted herself under the blanket, her body screaming in retaliation from 
soreness and bruises and scrapes. Suddenly she couldn’t get warm, Borna’s words 
making her worry as to what the truth might be.
“Tell me,” she whispered, even though she wasn’t sure she wanted to know.
“It was wrong of me to encourage your attacks earlier.” Borna spoke softly now, 
her voice as soothing as her touch, a gentle stroke of flesh against flesh.
Her fingers were warm, the heat from her traveling through Dree, creating a 
flush on top of the chill. She couldn’t look away from that dark expression, her 
sensual gaze almost intoxicating.
“You will never be able to defeat me.” Borna didn’t brag, just added the 
knowledge casually. “My people are warriors, surgically altered from birth 
onward as we mature, ensuring our best assets develop properly. I am designed to 
seduce and destroy. It’s in my nature. We are designed to conquer, taking what 
we want, offering no alternative other than submission.”
Dree found it hard to swallow, her mouth suddenly too dry. Part of her wanted to 
tell Borna to stop, that she didn’t need to hear anymore. Yet the truth waited 
right around the corner. And she had a feeling it would do worse than terrify 
her.
“Who are your people?” she asked, almost unable to form the words her mouth 
parched from her quick breaths.
“I am Bortan, born and raised.” Borna stood quickly, as if she already knew how 
her words would affect Dree.
But all Dree could do was stare at the woman who quickly faded into the dark 
shadows of the room, horror paralyzing her while she stared at her worst enemy.
Chapter Twelve
 
The matter shouldn’t be so complicated. Marc of Torin turned, feeling more than 
frustrated as he stared at the handful of some of his best officers.
“What do you mean, you can’t find him?” He knew irritation ruled his tone. But 
damn it to all of the hells, this was ridiculous. “How can the King simply 
disappear?”
“We’re sure his men have secured him somewhere, possibly in one of the homes in 
his kingdom.” Jax Raleer sounded just as frustrated as he felt.
Marc knew the woman had family at home and wanted all of this to end as quickly 
as he did. She would never complain though. Jax was one of his best soldiers, as 
were the others in the room.
“Or he could already be dead.” Porg Rihd stared out the window, taking over the 
spot where Marc had been before they had all entered for the debriefing.
Marc sighed, running his fingers through his hair. “How can we not have a clue 
where the King is?”
No one answered right away. Porg walked over to the table, the only piece of 
furniture in Marc’s makeshift office. He opened the porta-comm sitting there, 
the screen humming to life.
“We attacked several places,” Porg began, his weather-beaten face looking tired 
when he looked at Marc. “But we weren’t able to penetrate the castle. And 
without wiping out hundreds, maybe thousands of innocent people, we won’t be 
able to.”
“No one is coming or going from the castle though,” Jax added. “Their supplies 
are cut off and we have a fairly secure hold on the rest of the kingdom.”
Marc nodded, his thoughts drifting to Dree and how concerned she was that her 
people get out of there and be given a chance at a new life.
“Make it known that anyone who wants to leave the castle may do so. They will 
have to cross through our guards but do not harm any of them. We’ll starve the 
King out of there, I hope. I don’t want unnecessary bloodshed.”
It wasn’t real clear if either of them agreed with his orders or not. But at the 
moment he didn’t care. It had been a long day and all he wanted right now was to 
see Dree.
“There have been attacks outside the kingdom.” Jax twisted the long braid the 
fell over her shoulder. Tattoos of different geometric designs covered her arms. 
“The Bortan were working with King Sorale on obtaining certain rights on Benox.”
“More like preparing to oust him and take over,” Porg said, his tone bordering 
on disgust.
“Well I would have had no problem with them doing our dirty work for us,” Marc 
told them, “except we all know what the Bortan do once they remove power from a 
planet.”
The two of them nodded, knowing King Sorale would become a very minor problem if 
the Bortan gained more say in the kingdom.
“And we have reports of the King’s armies being close to Torin.” Jax pulled out 
one of the chairs from under the table and slid the porta-comm so that it faced 
her. “So far they haven’t made any action.”
“The King’s men are waiting for his next order,” Marc guessed. “It’s a weak 
assumption but possibly he isn’t in a position to be giving orders.”
“I think we need to worry more about the Bortan moving in while we are taking 
down the King.” Porg voiced Marc’s own worries.
“Where were these attacks?” Marc asked Jax, his thoughts drifting once again to 
Dree. She’d better be safe or he would have the Gren’s neck.
“Lengorc mainly.” Jax pressed a few keys on the pad while focusing on the screen 
in front of her. “It looks like we secured the situation fairly quickly. Only a 
couple deaths are reported.”
Anger simmered through Marc, and he despised the King even more for allowing 
that brutal race on the planet. He rubbed the back of his neck, needing to ease 
the growing tension so he could stay focused. Trent Dar had been his friend for 
many years, and was an outstanding warrior. As hard as it had been to leave 
Dree, he knew there was no better protector for her than the Gren.
“What about the other nations on the planet?” Porg asked. “It will only be a 
matter of time before the Bortan contact those leaders.”
“I’ve already thought of that.” Marc moved behind Jax, looking over her shoulder 
at the small monitor. “Have one of the communications officers prepare a 
statement letting the rest of the planet know our standing. I’ll brief it before 
we send it out.”
Jax nodded without looking up.
Marc headed toward the door, needing to get out of there. He turned to look at 
his officers while reaching for the door handle. “And find that damned King,” he 
barked.
Heading toward the glider he’d assigned to himself earlier, the last thing he 
wanted to do was ensure all troops were secure. Energy burned inside him, 
something dark and disturbing. King Sorale had inflicted a life of misery on the 
people of his kingdom. And the closer his nasty claws got to the house of Torin, 
the more Marc had wanted to take him down.
But disappearing? Marc straddled the glider, bringing the machine around and 
forcing the motor underneath him to roar for a minute. He wanted to tear out of 
there, fly without direction while he sorted his thoughts. King Sorale didn’t 
just disappear. But where was the bastard? How had he managed to slip through 
their fingers? The people of Torin wouldn’t be pleased at all to know their 
warriors would be kept here, hounding these streets, until they found the King. 
They wanted a swift and merciful attack, not endless bloodshed.
Marc adjusted his mouthpiece to his face before taking to flight. “Trent Dar,” 
he said into the small microphone, while accelerating away from the small group 
of houses where he’d set up his temporary headquarters inside the kingdom.
There were a few almost inaudible clicks and then the line opened. “Dar here.”
“Report.” And he wanted to know if Dree was okay. There was no need to ask. The 
Gren would tell him all he wanted to know.
“Lengorc was attacked in five different locations. The King’s armies attacked 
two locations, and the Bortan attacked three. All were small raids and sustained 
in a short time.” Trent Dar offered little voice inflection, offering the 
summary without emotion.
The Bortan seldom worked with another nation during battle. They were 
self-seeking slaughterers. And the King was a fool not to see that. The Bortan 
used him to move around his kingdom without questions. But Marc knew as soon as 
they thought they were stable on Benox, they would strike and take over the 
planet. They needed to be stopped soon.
“And what about Dree? Is she with you?” He wanted to talk to her, needed to hear 
her voice. More than likely the attacks scared her to death. It ate him alive 
thinking she probably endured that fear alone. She’d had enough of that kind of 
hell in her life.
“She ran away.”
Trent Dar’s words hit him like a knife, digging painfully deep into his chest.
“Gren.” Marc would have leveled the man to the ground if he’d been within his 
grasp. Anger fumed through him with the speed of lightning. He white-knuckled 
the handles on the glider, forcing the machine to accelerate. “Where the fuck is 
she?” he bellowed.
“We followed her to Kopah-Torl.” Trent Dar’s tone didn’t change. None of Marc’s 
aggressions fazed him.
“Kopah-Torl.” Marc barely realized he’d spoken out loud. The people from Poltar, 
who’d arrived less than a year ago with enough money to buy almost half of 
Benox. He knew little about them, other than they had purchased all the land 
west of the kingdom and Torin. Taking over a winery that had been run by 
thieves, their security was tight, and they kept to themselves. No one messed 
with them since they produced the best wine in the area, harvested and produced 
right there on Kopah-Torl.
“She was picked up by one of their workers and hasn’t left the main house since 
she arrived.” At least the Gren had taken the initiative to ensure she remained 
safe. “She is with her own people.”
“She was from Torl.” Something ripped at his heart. A dark, brooding jealousy 
that didn’t sit well with him at all.
Mine.Although he had no formal rights to Dree, more than anything he wanted to 
barge into Kopah-Torl and demand she return with him. But the matter wasn’t that 
simple. The couple who ran the successful ranch had a small army protecting them 
from everyone on the outside. More than likely the disaster that had hit their 
home world had turned the successful sex breeders into paranoid recluses.
Marc had never worried about them until now. He didn’t want Dree to find 
happiness there. Selfish as that might be, he wanted her to be happy with him.
“I know their contact,” the Gren offered, obviously aware of how this knowledge 
tore at Marc. “We’ll speak with him soon and get an update on her.”
Marc updated Trent on the standing of the kingdom, and how the King had 
disappeared.
“The King won’t care if you destroy half of his people looking for him.” Trent 
Dar showed the first sign of bitterness in his tone. But then the Gren had no 
respect for those who showed no honor.
“The Bortan will do it for us if we aren’t careful.” Marc had traveled over half 
of the kingdom so far.
Glancing down while he spoke, he kept his eyes peeled for the silver carriers 
that the Bortan were known to travel in when on ground. There were none to be 
seen and for the most part, everything appeared calm—the calm before the storm.
* * * * *
By the end of the week, Marc was about ready to pull his hair out. A warrior 
didn’t do well sitting and waiting. And his troops wanted action.
“Either we return to Torin, or we attack.” Porg had cut to the root. 
“Frustration levels are peaking, Marc.”
“Prepare the troops.” Marc pushed buttons on his porta-comm, allowing a 
transmission to come through. “Cover every inch of that castle, but inform the 
men there will be no unnecessary killing.”
Porg didn’t question him. The older man had been a warrior for too long. And 
Marc had no desire to share the mental promise he’d made Dree, even though she 
wasn’t here to tell. Her people were inside there, and if they were still alive, 
he would take them to Torin, give them a chance to lead better lives.
One of his communication officers walked into the room before Porg reached the 
door. “Bortan battleships have been picked up by one of our satellites,” she 
informed them. “They should be in orbit before nightfall.”
“Prepare evasive action.” Marc pushed away from the table, standing up quickly. 
“They cannot be allowed to enter our atmosphere.”
The officer nodded and hurried out the door. Her computer was set up in one of 
the carriers. Marc hurried to the door, calling after her. “And prepare for 
departure. They will attack the kingdom first. We return to Torin in the 
morning.”
“And the attack on the castle?” Porg asked him.
“Attack now. I want complete control of this kingdom before the Bortan come 
anywhere close to orbiting.”
Porg nodded, his expression showing that he agreed.
“Dar,” he almost yelled into his microphone after securing the communication 
device around his head. “We’re headed home.”
“Understood.” The Gren never seemed to need to be filled in on any matter. 
Somehow the man already knew everything. “Lengorc is secure.”
Marc didn’t wait for his troops to move into the castle. He knew Porg and Jax 
could handle the situation. Taking a small amount of warriors with him, he 
headed west, deciding to meet up with Trent Dar before returning to Torin.
“We have two days before the Bortan will be in orbit,” Trent Dar said in way of 
greeting when Marc entered the room he’d reserved for them almost a week ago.
The first thing he noticed was the large window where he’d seen Dree standing in 
that luscious gown. So damned beautiful, and so willing to fuck him.
“Make contact with Kopah-Torl.” He didn’t bother with greetings either.
And the Gren didn’t question him. He raised one eyebrow, and Marc swore he saw 
amusement in the man’s dark eyes before Trent looked down at his screen, pushing 
several buttons silently.
Marc walked over to the window, looking down at the street. Everything appeared 
business as usual. Townsfolk moved leisurely in and out of the shops, children 
darting around their parents. He would see they continued to enjoy their 
prosperous lives here.
“I have an open line with them now.” Trent Dar spoke from behind him.
Marc turned, moving to the table and sliding the porta-comm away from the Gren. 
He sat down at one of the other chairs, Trent Dar not questioning his actions, 
although he kept a firm watch on him. Marc could feel those black eyes watching 
his every move.
Marc pushed the button that would allow him to speak instead of type. He stared 
at the man on the screen, who he knew in turn watched him.
“This is Marc of Torin,” he began, and the man nodded.
Instead of commenting, the man on the screen looked to his side, then moved as 
another man appeared on the monitor.
“Trev of Kopah-Torl here. What can we do for you, Sir?” The man offered a 
congenial smile, his manner relaxed.
Marc watched while the landowner and successful farmer, who once dealt in a 
lucrative business of selling sex slaves on Poltar, relaxed in a 
comfortable-looking chair. He had charming good looks, the type of man that 
women would turn and give a second look to. Although the computer image didn’t 
offer perfection, Marc could tell the man was in good shape. But he guessed Trev 
of Kopah-Torl had never done a hard day’s labor in his life. Here was a man 
accustomed to giving orders, not taking them, and having others do his work for 
him. Marc didn’t like him.
“We are securing the area. I thought it would be best to make sure all 
landowners were properly protected.” Marc had no idea if Dree had spoken of him, 
or not.
Trent Dar watched him from across the table, no doubt wondering what he was 
about. Those dark eyes, which never blinked when concentrating, burrowed into 
him. Whether the Gren judged him or not, he kept Marc on his toes.
But damn it to all the hells, just looking at Trev of Kopah-Torl on the monitor 
made Marc’s blood boil. The urge to bully the man, push him to see what his 
breaking point was, coursed through Marc like a nasty poison. If he ever found 
out Trev had any sexual contact with Dree while she stayed there, he would kill 
the man.
“We appreciate your offer for protection.” Trev’s smooth tone got on Marc’s 
nerves. “But I think we are amply protected.”
“Our satellites have picked up several Bortan ships approaching Benox.”
Trent Dar leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. Giving this man such 
information normally wouldn’t be a good move. One never knew where a man’s 
loyalties might lie. Marc looked over the monitor screen at the Gren.
“His home planet was destroyed by the surgically altered bastards,” he said, 
realizing he spoke through clenched teeth. He forced out a breath. “I doubt he 
has any loyalties to them.”
“I didn’t say a word.” The Gren mocked him. And he was the only man on this 
planet who could get away with talking to him like that.
Marc looked down at the screen in time to see Trev look off to the side. There 
were others in the room with the landowner, others who heard what Marc had just 
said. Trev had turned off his sound, and spoke to someone while Marc watched. 
Possibly his mate, Dree’s former mistress, was there with him. He imagined what 
he had just told Trev would have upset her.
Trev of Kopah-Torl looked his way, his hand moving as he enabled Marc to hear 
his words. “What did you have in mind?”
He had plenty in mind, searching the man’s grounds for one. Finding Dree and 
taking her with him were foremost on his mind. “I will stop by with a few of my 
men. In no way do we wish to alarm anyone, nor disturb the serenity of your 
land. I think a brief visit to discuss options in person would be best.”
Trev nodded, the chivalrous expression returning to his face. “We look forward 
to meeting you.”
The screen went blank. Marc wondered if Trev spoke on behalf of himself and his 
mate, or if the man was so pompous he referred to himself in the plural, the way 
royalty did.
He shut the porta-comm and then stood, moving back to the window.
“How many men do you want to join us?” Trent Dar asked.
“Form a small party, less than ten. I doubt we will run into any situations 
between here and there.” Marc didn’t turn around, and the Gren didn’t comment, 
just left the room quietly.
Marc knew he would need the time it took to fly to Kopah-Torl in order to calm 
down. Fire burned through his soul, the need to see Dree, have her back in his 
arms, and know why she had run from him. The woman had moved something inside 
him, stirred emotions he never knew that he had. And he wasn’t sure what he 
would do if he discovered she didn’t want to be with him.
His hands balled into fists, these new thoughts of her running away from him, 
and not from the attack, didn’t settle well at all. Somehow he would find her, 
talk to her, discover her thoughts.
Marc took a look around the room, barely seeing its contents. Nothing jumped out 
at him as an item that he needed to have, so he left the room, knowing it 
wouldn’t take the Gren long to prepare to leave.
He found Trent Dar giving instructions to a handful of warriors, all on gliders. 
They would travel light, their intention not to startle any of the farmers into 
thinking battle would occur on their land.
“Ready when you are,” he told Marc.
Marc climbed onto his waiting glider. “Let’s head out.” He took to the air 
quickly, more than ready to get to Kopah-Torl. He wanted in and out of that 
place, and to be headed home, with Dree with him.
The flight took well over an hour, which wasn’t enough time to soothe the 
growing fire burning within him. Anger brewed in his gut from the events 
occurring around them. And frustration plagued him, knowing he had to be on his 
best diplomatic standing with these landowners, but wanting nothing more than to 
march in there and demand Dree be turned over to him.
“We’re entering Kopah-Torl land,” Trent Dar told him through his headset.
Marc looked over at the Gren, the man’s dark features, as usual, impossible to 
read. It was important to ensure all land around Torin had no weak areas. King 
Sorale didn’t have a lick of sense about him. He would help the Bortan take over 
the planet, and not even realize he was doing it. So arriving here was 
completely justified.
“Take us up to the house. Unless stopped, I plan on walking through the front 
door.”
Trent Dar nodded, and lowered their elevation. The small group flew close to the 
ground, a sign of non-hostility, allowing themselves to be an easy target. Marc 
wasn’t worried about any aggression though. These people didn’t have the 
capability to harm them. He was confident that they had more weapons on their 
gliders alone than this farm probably had on its entire land.
A large home came into view, sprawled out with plush grounds surrounding it. 
There were several outbuildings, one of them appearing to be rather 
decent-looking servant quarters. That impressed him. He wouldn’t have pictured 
previous slave owners as being the kind to take care of hired help that well.
A stocky man walked around from the side of the house, noticed them, and stopped 
in the front of the house, adjusting a communication device over his head. Marc 
and the others landed, slowing to a stop in front of the man while he spoke into 
his mouthpiece, more than likely notifying Trev of Kopah-Torl of their arrival.
Marc parked his glider and climbed off, taking in his surroundings as he 
approached the man. “I’m Marc of Torin. Please let Trev know that we are here.”
“You’re expected.” The older man pulled his headset from his head and stuffed it 
in a back pocket. “Follow me,” he told them, squinting against the suns as he 
gave them all a curious look-over.
They probably didn’t have a lot of unknown visitors out this way. The serene 
setting, a comfortable landowner’s home surrounded by such plush vegetation, 
gave the place a utopian feeling about it.
A person could get mighty comfortable here.
Marc didn’t see anyone else outside the home, although he imagined the servants 
would be working in the field during the day. Crops were visible to the side of 
the house, the exotic fruit that made their coveted wine, growing in rows as far 
as the eye could see.
“My men can wait outside.” Marc offered a relaxed smile to the stocky, older 
man. “We don’t want to disrupt anyone’s home with the lot of us coming inside.”
The man returned the smile, his gaze sweeping over the warriors behind Marc. 
“I’ll see to it that they get a cold drink then.”
Marc nodded, and then glanced at Trent Dar, whom he knew would follow him inside 
whether he gestured for him to do so, or not.
They had just set foot inside the house, when a woman’s excited voice was easily 
heard.
“What do you mean she has left?” The woman’s shrill tone made it apparent she 
was upset.
Another woman’s voice, not so easily heard, spoke hurriedly. But the first woman 
who spoke cut her off.
“She can’t just leave. There is no way she will survive with a war pending. This 
is terrible, just terrible.” The woman’s voice grew louder with each word.
Heavy footsteps sounded from another corner of the house. Marc and Trent stood 
inside the front door, the older man in front of them hesitating, as if he 
wasn’t sure what to do. A man’s voice, low and reassuring, drifted toward them, 
barely audible.
“I will not calm down. You don’t understand. She is part of Torl, like family to 
me.”
Her words hit Marc like a brick to his gut. How many women here were from Torl? 
And whoever they discussed had just left. He fought the urge to lunge forward, 
push the servant out of the way. The urge to demand to know who they spoke about 
swarmed through him with a vengeance.
“Now isn’t the time to discuss this.” The man speaking was Trev, at least he 
sounded like the man who’d spoken on the computer. “We have men arriving to 
determine if we are protected.”
“Obviously we aren’t if one small woman can walk away from here and no one stops 
her.” The woman had a point.
“She had her freedom. But we’ll discuss this later.” Again the man, who sounded 
like Trev, tried to silence her.
“Then it will be too late.” She sounded ready to burst into tears. “I thought we 
had bonded again. Damn it to all the hells, Trev, I brought her to you.”
Fire rushed through Marc so quickly he could barely stand still. What did she 
mean, she had brought the woman to him? Had Dree fucked Trev of Kopah-Torl? 
Would her ties to her old mistress still be so strong that she would do what the 
woman asked?
Marc clenched his fists, something dangerous and dark forming deep in his soul. 
No one had better lay a hand on Dree. No one.
“Maybe we should wait outside,” the Gren suggested.
The servant turned to face them, his expression showing his uncertainty. But 
Marc knew Trent Dar didn’t suggest they wait outside to be courteous. Marc was 
ready to destroy something, anger brewed in him ready to boil over. Trent Dar 
simply wanted him outside so he wouldn’t do something stupid.
They all turned when a man appeared at the end of the hallway, a woman behind 
him. She was obviously quite pregnant and held her hand over the bulge in her 
tummy.
“Welcome to Kopah-Torl,” the man extended his hands in greeting, that same 
boyish charm in his manner that he’d displayed on the computer. “I am Trev and 
this is my mate, Marla.”
Marc glanced at the extended hand, wanting more than anything to grab it and 
swing the man over his shoulder until he had him flat on the floor.
“I am Marc of Torin,” he heard himself say. But what he really wanted to say 
was, did you fuck Dree?
Chapter Thirteen
 
Dree couldn’t believe her eyes. Those were Marc of Torin’s men, she was sure of 
it. But what the hell were they doing here at Kopah-Torl?
Beads of perspiration formed along her back and between her breasts. She shoved 
her hair away from her face, standing alongside the apartments for the servants, 
the suns beating down on her with powerful rays. Her note would have been 
discovered by now, and she hadn’t even made it off of the grounds.
“What if Marc is here?” she asked herself, the urge to run and turn back toward 
the house warring inside her.
There was no way she could stay here though. It was bad enough with Borna. The 
woman blessed her with a kindness that wasn’t in her nature. Ever since she’d 
told Dree that she was Bortan, Dree hadn’t known how to act around the woman. 
Her heart raced anytime Borna came to her. Her dark seductive features didn’t 
remind Dree of a Bortan. But she hadn’t questioned what she’d been told and 
Borna offered no further explanation.
Besides, after last night, Borna was only a small concern. There was no way she 
could stay here after last night. Her stomach twisted into knots, the need to 
make a quick decision imperative. Everything inside her screamed to find Marc. 
If he had come for her, she wanted to be here for him.
But would Marc of Torin drive out to Kopah-Torl just to find her? Dree leaned 
against the side of the building, the suns making her terribly hot. She prayed 
in her heart that his feelings for her were as strong as those she felt for him. 
That he wanted her by his side, needed her with him just as badly as she craved 
him.
Footsteps cracked along the ground, to the side of the building toward the main 
house. “Dree!” Borna called for her, sounding angry. “Where in all the hells are 
you?”
Dree looked toward the men who lingered around their gliders out front of Trev 
and Marla’s. Several of them followed one of the servants. The gliders stood 
unattended. Marc would have her hide if she took off on one of his gliders. But 
if she went with him, she quite possibly would put him in jeopardy just as she 
had before. He had so much going for him, and she wouldn’t have him risking his 
ass because of her. Dree looked in the direction where she’d heard Borna. The 
woman had stopped to talk to the group of men.
There were no other choices. Running wouldn’t get her far away fast enough, and 
the distance she needed to travel was too great anyway. She darted the opposite 
direction from the house, disappearing around the back of the apartments and 
toward the back of the house. Most of the servants were still out in the field, 
or inside. Few people lingered outside during the day.
Coming up on the other side of the house, she edged around the front porch, 
delighted to find that the gliders sat unoccupied.
Dree blew out a breath, realizing she was shaking from nerves. Once or twice she 
had moved gliders at the castle, cleaning them and then flying them to the large 
garage where they were stored. Never had she flown a great distance on one.
Somehow knowing she took one of Marc’s gliders made her feel a bit more bonded 
to him. It was a strange thought, because she was stealing—plain and simple. Her 
heart constricted, weighing heavy in her chest. More than anything she wanted to 
see him, to feel his gaze on her, protective and full of compassion. She wanted 
to touch him, feel his strength, run her hands over those bulging muscles. Tears 
burned her eyes, the need for him so great it stole her breath. Her body ached 
for him—her soul ached for him.
Forcing herself to move, she put one foot in front of the other. Before she 
could talk herself out of her misdeed, she ran to the closest glider, straddled 
it, and stared down at the small dash, frantically trying to remember which 
buttons to push to start the damned thing.
“This is so stupid,” she chided herself, and pushed several buttons before the 
thing lurched to life underneath her.
She almost fell off. Gripping the handlebars, holding on for dear life, the 
thing took off across the field with more speed than she’d anticipated. Her 
stomach flip-flopped when it went airborne, the ground whizzing by underneath 
her in a blur. For a moment she thought she would be sick.
The speed at which she flew, and the humming of the motor underneath her, made 
it too hard to look behind her to see if she’d been noticed, or to hear if 
anyone yelled at her for her departure.
“You don’t even know where the fuck you are going.” The wind slapped at her bare 
skin, whipping her hair over her face.
Looking down at the small console, she dared to let go of one of the handlebars, 
wiping the water that burned at her eyes. She had no clue how to lower the dome 
on this thing, and with no eye protection she could barely see.
The glider swooped down, dangerously close to the ground.
Dree screamed.Fool! You’re a fucking fool.
She would get herself killed before she got captured. Loosening her grip on the 
other handle, the bike slowed drastically, again almost hitting the ground. One 
of the handlebars controlled the speed, and the other controlled the elevation. 
That small piece of knowledge did little to stop her thumping heart or prevent 
the painful lump in her stomach to stop growing.
How in the hell would she land this thing?
What was I thinking?
The ground continued to rush by underneath her, her mind speeding with panic and 
desperation at the same time. Marc had been willing to leave her before, when he 
started the attacks against the King, now he would completely despise her. It 
would seem obvious to him that she had little concern for his property when he 
realized she had stolen from him.
And to think for an insane moment she had thought it would bond her to him. All 
she could think about was getting away from Kopah-Torl, from her old mistress 
that she couldn’t say no to. And from a way of life she no longer wished to 
live. She hadn’t thought of how much Marc would hate her. And when she received 
confirmation of his hatred, she knew it would tear her in two.
She should turn around, do her best to get this glider back to Kopah-Torl and to 
Marc, and face the consequences of her crime.
And what would that accomplish?
No. For once she would move forward. What was done was done. Sooner or later 
stealing the glider would come back on her, haunt her, and she would be forced 
to pay for her crime. But maybe before that happened she could do some good.
For once she could make an appearance in decent clothing, clean and presentable, 
and on a quality glider. She had a laser with her that she sort of knew how to 
use. At least she could make a show of knowing how to use it. And even if she 
couldn’t fight worth a damn, she had taken enough blows over the past week to 
know how to fall and how to duck. She was better armed and prepared to help her 
people than she’d been since arriving on this planet. And if any of them were 
still alive, she would get them out of that castle, and away from that 
kingdom—somehow.
Her thoughts carried her over the countryside until small homes began appearing, 
scattered here and there, beneath her. She hadn’t been born yesterday. There 
were laws, regulations, on how and where a glider could be flown. But she would 
be damned if she knew what all of those laws were.
Lengorc lay ahead though, and she would be at the town soon. Somehow, she needed 
to land this thing, and manage to drive it on the ground through the town. Maybe 
someone here could give her an update on the status of the kingdom.
A dark object came at her from the side, almost hitting her. Her blurred vision, 
and her hair whipping around her, had made it impossible for her to notice 
anything until it almost hit her.
Dree yanked the handlebars in a panic, sending the glider on a sideways suicide 
plunge, almost causing her to fall off.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
Again she screamed, the wretched sound tearing at her throat, the air flying 
past her seizing the sound, ripping it from her mouth. She couldn’t regain 
control. And the dark object was coming at her again.
She doubted any of the gods would give a thief the time of day, but she had no 
choice. She was going to crash and burn and all she knew how to do was pray.
Somehow in her wave of panic, she got a better look at the dark object. Borna 
flew alongside her. Watching in horror, the clear dome on the woman’s glider 
slowly raised. Borna flew close to her, too fucking close. The dome lifted and 
the woman extended her hand, yelling something at her that got lost in the wind.
Dree shook her head. Once again she was blinded and felt her glider flip 
sideways. She held on to the machine underneath her with everything she had. Her 
fingers sliding over the handlebars as her palms grew too sweaty to hold on. Her 
hair slapped at her face, tangling and blinding her while the ground seemed to 
be speeding past the side of her. She had no idea what kept the thing airborne.
And she would never know how Borna’s strong hand managed to grab her arm and 
pull her free of the flying contraption.
“Shit. Fuck. No!” Dree clung to Borna, realizing suddenly that the glider was no 
longer underneath her.
Nothing was underneath her. She was flying through the air, mere feet off of the 
ground, while a strong grip cut the circulation off in her arm.
“I’m going to kick your fucking ass.” Borna’s words hissed in her ear at the 
same time that Dree slapped up against the other woman’s body. “Sit still before 
you get both of us killed.”
Dree couldn’t stop herself from shaking. Somehow she managed to situate herself 
on the seat with Borna behind her. She couldn’t think and she didn’t dare look 
up. The whoosh of the wind slowly disappeared when the clear dome moved over 
them, closing them into the safety of Borna’s glider.
A long time seemed to pass that the two of them flew in silence. Finally Dree 
started combing her hair with her fingers, working to detangle it, and took a 
look around her.
“Where are we going?” she dared to ask.
“The note you left, that Marla showed me while crying,” Borna hissed, her anger 
quite obvious in her sneering tone, “said you couldn’t wait any longer to see if 
your people were still alive. You want to go to King Sorale’s fucking castle 
then that is where I am taking you.”
Dree couldn’t turn around to look at Borna’s face. The woman’s muscular thighs 
had her pinned, and the way her arms grasped the handlebars, like steel braces 
holding her in place, she could barely move at all.
“Why are you doing this?” Dree had to know. It would seem more likely that Borna 
would land and beat the crap out of her, or simply turn around and drop her off 
to face the wrath of Marc, or Marla and Trev, or all of them.
“Because you can’t do it by yourself. And because I owe Marla my life and the 
woman was heartbroken that you would run from her.” Her last words sliced 
through Dree like a knife.
The last person she ever wanted to hurt was Marla. Last night would never have 
happened if she hadn’t been so loyal to her previous owner.
Dree wanted to cry. She wanted to bury herself in Borna’s chest and beg for her 
forgiveness. She wanted Marc of Torin’s arms around her, comforting her, and she 
knew that would never happen.
Looking ahead of her, she fought to bury her emotions, to toughen up, to not let 
her confused feelings show. “I had to do this, Borna. I don’t expect you to 
understand.”
“Good. Because I don’t.” Borna was furious. “You had nothing when you arrived at 
Kopah-Torl, not a fucking thing. You’ve been given the easiest of jobs, helping 
Marla, and your own place to live. They feed you well, gave you clothes, and 
this is how you repay them. I didn’t expect this out of you, Dree.”
“I didn’t steal from Marla. And I didn’t mean to break her heart.” Now she had 
to defend her actions. Borna’s accusations were too harsh. “You don’t know how 
my people were living though, how they were being treated. Our home on Poltar 
was destroyed, our way of life stolen from us. We were homeless, deserted. And 
things have only gotten worse since arriving on Benox. There was no way I could 
continue to live at Kopah-Torl knowing the rest of them could be suffering a 
fate worse than death. I have to go see if any of them are still alive.”
“And if they are?” Borna asked. “Then what?”
“Then I have to get them out of there.”
Borna didn’t say anything. Instead she swerved the glider, forcing it to lean 
slightly, while they made a wide curve around the houses underneath them.
“I look forward to hearing how you plan to do that,” she finally said, after 
they had left Lengorc behind them.
Open countryside again flew by underneath them. They would be entering the 
kingdom soon.
Dree sat straight on the glider, refusing to touch Borna anymore than necessary. 
The woman’s words had been cruel, slicing through her, stabbing at her heart. 
All of them thought her helpless, incapable of taking care of herself, good only 
at offering her body.
Her skills in other areas might be lacking, but she would learn, damn it. She 
would learn how to defend herself, go from one place to the other by herself, 
and make her own decisions without being ridiculed for doing so.
The panel in front of her beeped, a light suddenly flashing. Borna didn’t move a 
muscle.
“What is that?” Dree studied the board, determining that it looked like someone 
was contacting them.
“I’m not answering it.” Borna sounded like she spoke through gritted teeth.
Dree didn’t dare try to turn around and look at her.
“Who do you think it is?” She stared at the blinking light, the shade of red 
blurring the longer she looked at it.
“I don’t care who it is. You want to talk to them, you fucking answer it.”
Borna didn’t say anything else, and eventually the light quit blinking. Dree 
noticed King Sorale’s castle appear ahead of them, standing tall and regal on 
top of one of the larger hills in the kingdom, its magnificence on display for 
all who cared to look.
Dree held on to the seat in front of her when Borna turned the glider hard, 
making the machine lean deep to the right as they circled around the kingdom. 
They approached the castle from the back, the smaller buildings surrounding the 
incredible structure coming into view the closer they got.
The first thing she noticed was the streets weren’t as full of people as they 
had been before. Merchants didn’t line up along the front, passing the time away 
either waiting to unload their product, or waiting for their opportunity to sell 
what they had. A sinking feeling settled in Dree’s gut. An unsettling feeling 
that her people were either dead, or long since hauled off from their tiny 
corner in the castle.
“Can you get me close to that back patio?” Her mouth had gone dry, fear 
consuming her that she would find the worst.
She cleared her throat and pointed to the paved area where so many nights had 
passed standing around the burning trash and talking to whoever had time to stop 
and share the gossip.
Dree watched while Borna pulled back on one of the handlebars, while twisting 
the other handle toward them. One way or another she would learn how to make one 
of these gliders work. But her landing lesson wouldn’t begin today. She swore 
the distance between them and the ground was swallowed up, Borna dropped in 
elevation so quickly.
“Oh, shit.” Dree grabbed Borna’s arm without thinking while her stomach rose up 
to her throat. She wasn’t sure, but she thought she heard chuckling in her ear.
Borna landed the glider just as the beeping began on the panel again. Turning 
off the motor, she hopped off as soon as the dome lifted.
“Where are these people that you must rescue?” she asked, those dark eyes 
glancing around her like an angry animal ready to attack anything that moved.
“We had a closet where we stayed.” She pointed to the door that led toward the 
back pantries, and then into the kitchen.
Nausea rose inside her. There was no mistaking the smell of rotting flesh. 
Climbing off the glider, her feet seemed numb, unable to feel the ground beneath 
her as she approached the area where trash was burnt.
“Dear gods.” Her hand went to her mouth, the disgusting taste of bile reaching 
her throat as she stared in horror at the mangled bodies piled high in the hole 
where the fires had burned.
Nothing burned there now. But the humming of insects rang in her ears. She stood 
frozen until Borna pushed her on.
“Don’t look. I doubt we will find anything pretty here.”
Her firm hand gripped Dree’s arm, feeling cold against her skin. Anger slowly 
welled inside her. More than likely, everyone she knew lay in that mound of 
death. But she had to check. She had to go inside and see for herself if anyone 
remained alive.
She tugged on the large door, pulling it open while another door seemed to close 
inside her. If she had been here, she would have been dead with the rest. There 
was no use pretending she could have been some kind of hero.
The kitchen was dark and quiet, way too quiet. The usual buzz of activity was no 
more. In fact, it looked as if no one had used the kitchen in a while. The 
counters were bare, the sinks dry. No one moved around and long shadows gave 
everything a morbid look.
“Our room was over here.” She whispered, although she wasn’t sure why. 
Everything seemed completely deserted.
Borna followed behind her while Dree searched the place with her eyes. Nothing 
appeared disturbed, just left, as if everyone who had once clamored through the 
area had just walked away. She pushed open the thin door to the small room that 
had once been her home. There was no one inside, no clue as to what had happened 
to them, nothing.
She turned when she heard Borna leave, walking away from her as if satisfied 
that their mission was complete. Dree had to admit she wouldn’t know where else 
to look for them. She hardly knew the entire castle, and she couldn’t imagine 
any of them taking refuge anywhere else.
Dree stopped in the doorway, panic rushing through her when she spotted the 
Bortan standing at the glider. Tall thick men, the silver metal embedded in 
their skin shining from the suns’ light, moved slowly around their only means 
out of here.
“That doesn’t belong to you.” Borna didn’t hesitate, her comment sounding 
insulting.
Dree couldn’t believe it. This woman may be a warrior, and her claim to being 
Bortan might also be accurate. But those two men, who now looked in their 
direction, were almost twice her size.
One of them headed toward her, his beady red eyes a gross distraction. Dree 
wanted to turn back into the castle and run for her life. She froze in place 
though when Borna fired her laser, severing the man’s arm. Blood spewed 
everywhere while the man screamed, an electronic vibrating sound that chilled 
her to her bones.
Borna shot the other Bortan too, and then ran to her glider. “Get your ass over 
here,” she yelled. “Those aren’t the only two.”
Dree ran to the glider, climbing on behind Borna. At the same time, the woman 
shoved a laser in her hands. “Lessons are over. You better kill them with your 
first shot.”
Dree stared at the weapon in her hand, the cold metal weighing heavy against her 
skin.
Loud thudding footsteps grabbed her attention at the same time Borna started the 
glider.
“Hold on,” she yelled, and forced the glider to accelerate so fast, Dree almost 
fell off.
“Hold it right there.” Another Bortan had appeared.
“Take them down,” a fourth Bortan yelled.
The glider left the ground while Dree clung to Borna, daring to look over her 
shoulder at the many Bortan suddenly appearing.
“This isn’t going to be pretty,” Borna muttered, as the glider flew faster than 
Dree knew that it could.
“Will we get away?” Dree didn’t see anyone taking to flight.
She looked behind them at the castle, her heart pounding so hard she could 
barely breathe. Landing in the hands of the Bortan would mean a torturous death 
for both of them.
“I doubt it.”
Borna began speaking in calmer tones, and Dree realized she had signaled for 
help. “Requesting backup over the castle at the kingdom.”
Dree studied the side of Borna’s face, her black hair streaming down around her 
high chiseled cheekbones. Dree still held on to her, even with the dome up, and 
could feel Borna’s slow, steady breathing in comparison to her own. The warmth 
of her firm body saturated Dree, somehow making her feel safer. Her soft ass and 
the roundness of her thighs pressed against Dree’s legs, while the firm 
concentration on her face gave the impression that there were no problems.
Several beeps came from the dash, followed by several lights flashing. Dree 
looked over Borna’s shoulder. “What does that mean?”
“We are being instructed to land.” Borna veered the glider, leaning them hard to 
the left while she circled around and lowered the machine toward the ground.
Dree looked around them frantically. “And you are going to land?”
“Yup.” Borna’s lips pursed, while her dark eyes scanned the ground beneath them.
“But why are you landing?” Dree slid her hands from Borna’s waist, turning to 
get a better view of the streets beneath them.
There was little life in the kingdom. The area beneath them was streets and 
houses. But then she noticed several men exit one of the homes, looking up at 
them, weapons in hand.
Dree ran her sweaty palms over her trousers, feeling like a trapped animal 
inside the small domed area. Her heart raced while a lump formed in her throat. 
More than anything, she didn’t want to die.
“We’re landing because Marc of Torin orders us to do so, and his wrath is worse 
than that of the Bortan.”
Borna’s words made Dree freeze. She stared down at the men who walked toward 
them while they moved closer to the ground. Chills rushed over her body. They 
were landing around Marc’s warriors, so they were safe, right?
Chapter Fourteen
 
The ground came up hard underneath them, slapping Dree’s ass against the thinly 
padded seat of the glider.
“Don’t say a fucking word,” Borna hissed at her as the dome slid up and then 
disappeared in the space behind them.
She jumped off of the glider before Dree could say a word. Dree felt a bit 
queasy when she put her feet on the ground. At the same time the rumble of a 
carrier coming down the street caught her attention.
Three large warriors had walked out of a house with a large yard around it, and 
open field behind it. They must have landed on the very edge of the kingdom. The 
men moved closer to both women as a Bortan exited the carrier. He smiled a 
silver smile while his red eyes moved to take them all in. Dressed in all black, 
the short sleeves of his uniform showed off powerful-looking human biceps, no 
surgical operation hindering the fact that this Bortan was well-built, tall, and 
scary as all hells.
Dree took a step backwards, the hard laser in her pants pocket brushing against 
her leg when she moved. She attempted a swallow, but her mouth was suddenly too 
dry.
“Sorry to bother you.” The Bortan addressed the men. “We simply come to collect 
this thief.” He raised a gloved hand and pointed at Borna.
The men looked at her. Dree looked at all of them, remembering Borna’s 
threatening warning to stay quiet. She opened her mouth to speak and Borna 
glared at her.
“What has she stolen?” One of the warriors studied Borna, his gaze traveling 
down her, looking anything but unimpressed.
“Her charges go back to our home world.” The Bortan seemed quite satisfied as he 
moved closer to Borna, extending his hand to grab her.
“If this woman has committed a crime on your planet then certainly there are 
papers.” The guard closest to Dree spoke. His deep baritone sounded anything but 
friendly.
“I haven’t taken anything that wasn’t mine.” Borna didn’t move out of the 
Bortan’s reach, but put her hands on her hips, as if daring him to touch her.
She was being a fool. Dree saw now that this woman would fight to her death, 
even if outmatched. Maybe it was her Bortan blood, born to be a warrior. There 
were times though when good thinking should precede the desire to fight.
“She is with me and I’ll vouch that she is no thief.” Dree spoke up in spite of 
Borna’s warning.
Borna didn’t look at her but continued to glare at the man in front of her. He 
reached to take her arm and Borna finally took a step backwards.
“Let us know the charges and your commander can take it up with Marc of Torin. 
If she has committed some offense against the Bortan, we will see to her 
punishment.” The warrior, almost the size of the Bortan, took Borna by the arm, 
pulling her behind him.
“She is Bortan.” The Bortan’s metallicized tone came through when he lowered his 
voice. “Her charges will be handled among her own people.”
The warrior who held Borna’s arm released her, but continued to look down at 
her. The suns caught a glimpse of red in his light brown hair. Tall and 
well-built, Borna appeared dwarfed next to him.
“You are Bortan?” he asked her.
“I can vouch for her.” Dree stepped forward standing next to Borna. She looked 
over toward Marc’s men. “She’s done nothing wrong.”
The warrior who had stepped forward looked her over, his soft green eyes showing 
either compassion or pity, she couldn’t tell which. Did this man know who she 
was? Had Marc mentioned her to them, or had some of the other guards discussed 
her? Guards weren’t all that different from servants, gossiping in their idle 
time.
“I told you to be quiet.” Borna’s look was stern when she turned on her.
But Dree thought she saw a small kindling of fear in those dark eyes.
Borna licked her lips, ignoring the warrior’s question, and stepped forward. “I 
can see nothing has changed among my people. You have nothing better to do than 
come after me? Don’t you have a castle to pillage, or something?”
“At least you don’t deny your Bortan heritage.” The Bortan looked over Borna at 
the men standing close by and then reached for Borna. “Her mouth is not the only 
thing that is trouble. I assure you, she is a known thief.”
“No,” Dree cried out, when the Bortan took Borna by the arm and led her to the 
carrier.
The guard nearest stepped forward keeping her from running after Borna. She 
turned on him. “She followed me here. She saved my life. You can’t let them just 
take her.”
“Be grateful they were only after her, and not you.” The guard gestured for her 
to walk toward the home. “We’ll be happy to help you get back to wherever you 
were going.”
“I was going to the castle.” Dree pointed at the departing carrier. The gods 
only knew what was in store for Borna. “I wanted to find my people. Borna tried 
to get me away from the Bortan when they would have seized me there. She saved 
my ass and this is how we reward her?”
She stopped talking, her breathing coming almost in gasps making it hard to form 
words. Turning away from the warriors she looked at the glider Borna had flown. 
If only she were better at driving one of those things.
Frustration soared through her, the intense feeling of being alone hitting her 
hard. Always there had been others to lean on, others to fight for, others to 
turn to. But now Dree realized she was on her own. No one would help her. No one 
would go after Borna. First there had been the few of them left from Poltar, now 
Borna. She couldn’t let all of them die simply because of her inabilities. Borna 
had tried to teach her to be strong, to fight for herself.
Tears welled in her eyes and she swiped at them angrily. There was no time for 
self-pity. There wasn’t time for anything but action.
“We have a transmission from Kopah-Torl.” One of the guards behind her spoke, 
but Dree didn’t bother to turn around.
“Let them know that Borna has been taken by the Bortan.” She waved her hand in 
the air and then strolled over to the glider. She needed to gather the nerve to 
climb back on that thing.
“We can’t let you leave.” The tall warrior who had spoken to the Bortan stepped 
closer to her.
She turned to face him. “Am I a prisoner here?”
Her heart pounded with her newfound nerve. Just a week ago she wouldn’t have 
been able to speak to someone in authority like this.
His expression was relaxed when he shook his head. “The kingdom isn’t safe right 
now. There are looters everywhere, not to mention the Bortan.”
“I have nothing worth stealing.” She clasped her hands together in front of her 
to keep them from shaking visibly. The man’s size alone blocked most of the 
suns’ rays from her. He had to be larger even than Marc Torin.
“Are you Dree of Torl?” The other guard approached them, the wires from a 
communication device hanging from his ear down the front of his chest.
When she nodded, he gestured back toward the house. “The transmission is for 
you.”
For a moment she couldn’t catch her breath. He had already mentioned the 
transmission came from Kopah-Torl and Marc was there. Was he seeking her out? 
For a moment she thought she wouldn’t be able to move. Charges of nervous energy 
rushed through her with enough intensity she feared she would make a fool out of 
herself, babbling like a fool while asking who it was.
“Okay,” she managed to stutter, putting a foot forward to walk to the house.
She ended up hurrying, reality slowly gripping her that her time was limited. 
Borna needed her. No matter how desperately she wanted to see Marc, to touch 
him, hear his voice, his life wasn’t at stake. Borna’s was.
Dree took the seat as instructed and adjusted the microphone to her mouth after 
the guard clasped it over her head. One piece pressed against her ear and the 
other against her lips. She stared at the monitor while the guard pushed a 
button.
“Okay. The transmission’s open,” he told her, and walked over toward the door.
She noticed he didn’t leave though. Her attention quickly focused to the screen. 
The lump in her throat quickly settled to her stomach when Marla’s pretty face 
appeared before her.
“Thank God you are safe,” her previous mistress said with a heavy sigh.
Dree couldn’t ignore the well of disappointment that it wasn’t Marc Torin who 
had wanted to speak to her. She straightened, accepting the fact that he had 
bigger matters to tend to other than her. Once again she told herself that she 
was on her own.
“The Bortans took Borna.” She spoke quickly, at the same time trying to figure 
out some way to go after her friend.
Dree took pause with that realization. Borna terrified her, yet she just thought 
of her as a friend.
Marla frowned at the news, glancing to the side. Dree guessed Trev stood nearby. 
She didn’t want to talk to him, not after last night. Humiliation rushed through 
her.
“She was told to go get you and bring you back here.” Marla ran her hand over 
her white hair, her pale gray eyes staring straight at her. “Why did you run, 
Dree? Was it because of last night?”
Dree straightened. “I’m no longer a sex slave. You yourself freed me.”
Marla nodded, her voice becoming quiet. “I know that, Dree. You could have said 
no.”
And that was just it. She doubted she would ever be able to tell her previous 
mistress no. “It’s hard to change overnight. But I realized that after agreeing 
to fuck Trev for you that I had made a mistake. And I couldn’t tell you that.”
Marla licked her lips, glancing down for a moment before adjusting in her chair. 
Dree didn’t want to think that she might have just hurt her feelings. But 
somehow it felt good to be honest. Strength seemed to ripple through her at her 
acknowledgment.
“What happened, happened,” she said. “I hope that Trev enjoyed himself, but I 
won’t deny that today I am driven with guilt for what I’ve done.”
It surprised her when Marla smiled. “Who have you fallen in love with, Dree?”
Dree looked at the screen, shocked. Heat rushed through her, her cheeks suddenly 
burning with embarrassment. “Fallen in love?” She barely was able to choke out 
the words. “Why would you say that?”
“If you feel guilty then it’s because you are worried how someone might react to 
the knowledge of what you have done.”
Dree would die if she found out Marc Torin was anywhere nearby to hear what 
Marla said. She glanced around the room, the guard at the door watching her with 
a serious expression. She swore there was a twinkle in his eye though. Returning 
her attention to the monitor, she readjusted her mouthpiece, and looked into the 
eyes of her former mistress.
“I feel guilty because I have praised myself for being independent, making it to 
your farm on my own, and then collapsing the first time I had the opportunity to 
say no to having sex with a man that I didn’t want.” Her words were cross. She 
knew they were.
Marla’s expression grew serious, her smile fading fast. “I think you are more 
independent than you may have realized.”
She had hurt Marla. And if ever the opportunity arose, she would make it up to 
her. But right now, she needed to get past her regression the night before, and 
move forward.
“Mistress.” It was still so hard for her to call her by her first name. “Marla,” 
she corrected herself, and took a deep breath. “What do you know about Borna? Is 
she a…a thief?”
Marla shook her head. “Borna has a colorful past. She has shared bits and pieces 
of it with me in confidence. But as long as she has been with us she has worked 
hard and shown her trustworthiness. I would defend her credibility.”
That was good enough for Dree. “The Bortan took her, accusing her of thievery. 
And these men here won’t do anything about it. I need to go after her.”
“You can’t rescue her from the Bortan.” Marla spoke the simple truth, as much as 
she hated hearing it.
“And I swear to all of the gods that I will whip your ass if you so much as 
try.” Marc Torin’s voice boomed throughout the room.
Dree about jumped out of her seat, her heart exploding in her chest while the 
communication wires tangled around her face. She turned quickly, struggling to 
stand, but then having to sit down when the wires strained against her.
“What is it?” she heard Marla ask in her ear.
Dree didn’t turn around to face the monitor though. She couldn’t look away from 
the tall man who entered the room and didn’t stop until he stood over her. Soft 
brown curls drifted around Marc’s face while he looked down at her. His blue 
eyes burned with a passion that matched the heat she felt inside of her. His 
broad shoulders, covered by the long traveling cape he wore, blocked her view of 
anyone else.
She let her gaze travel down his body, the flushed heat she’d experienced 
moments before smoldering into something much more sensual. Her fingers itched 
to reach out and touch him. More than anything she wanted to stand, and then 
collapse against that hard body. But she couldn’t move, could barely breathe. 
Suddenly everything around her was Marc Torin. He stood over her, so powerful, 
so dominating, and she was barely able to manage a thought.
“Dree. Tell me you are okay.” The concern in Marla’s voice helped shake the 
spell Marc suddenly had over her.
Dree turned slowly away from the massive man who stood way too close to her for 
her to think straight. Her pussy began pulsating with demanding need while she 
worked to gather her thoughts.
“I’m fine,” she managed to say. “I’ll stay in touch with you. I promise.”
“Borna has a way of getting herself out of strange predicaments,” Marla added 
quickly. “Contact me soon.”
Dree nodded and then pulled the headset from her head. Marc reached over her and 
pushed a button, causing the screen to go blank.
“I ought to bend you over my knee right now for taking off on me like you did,” 
he whispered, turning to look her in the face before he straightened.
When he did, he pulled Dree up with him. “Leave us,” he told the guards, not 
bothering to look behind him.
Dree couldn’t see who else was in the room, but she heard the door close, and 
knew suddenly she was alone with Marc Torin.
“You left me,” she started to say, but her words were devoured by his mouth.
Marc crushed her to him, his powerful arms wrapping around her, stealing her 
breath, and nearly lifting her from the ground. His lips burned against hers, 
moist heat rushing through her brain, attacking her senses.
Dree clung to him, holding on to his cloak while she leaned back, arching into 
him and deepening their kiss. Never had she experienced such power, such raw and 
untamed domination from just a kiss. Marc commanded her senses, and took from 
her without questions. His demands were clear, his intentions driven with an 
intensity that would not be denied.
Everything inside her burned alive while his tongue dove deep inside her mouth, 
claiming her, fucking her just as his cock would her pussy. Her breasts smashed 
against his rock-hard chest while her cunt grew wet, the pulsating turning into 
a fierce throbbing as the ache in her grew, bordering on pain.
Her lips tingled when he pulled away. Her eyes fluttered open, as she took a 
minute to focus. His face was so close to hers, looking down at her with orbs so 
blue she wanted to drown in them.
“You left me, my dear,” he whispered, adjusting her in his arms and rubbing his 
gloved fingers across her cheek. “It will not happen again.”
Marc offered her no time to respond. He took her with a savage kiss, branding 
her, restating his claim.
Something about the smoothness of his gloves, trailing paths across her skin, 
sent chills through her body. Anticipation ran through her, pain throbbing from 
deep inside her, wanting nothing more than to beg him to fuck her.
And his words. What did he mean by them? What she wouldn’t give for hours with 
this man. Just the two of them. She wanted to know his thoughts, what made him 
tick, and every inch of his body. Yes. The desire to devour everything he could 
give her almost consumed her.
Taking a step backward, the chair behind her pressing against the back of her 
legs, she instantly mourned his body no longer being pressed against hers. But 
she had to clear her head of him—just for a minute. He took her hair in his 
gloved hand, twisting it, pulling it until she was forced to look up at him.
“Borna needs help.” She said the first thing that came to mind, knowing her 
words confused him by his expression.
The lust-filled cloud lifted from those incredible blue eyes while slight lines 
of confusion creased his forehead. “And who is this Borna?”
“She worked at Kopah-Torl and came after me when I left there. The Bortan took 
her right before you got here.” Before he could speak, tell her there was 
nothing she could do about it, she pulled away from him, putting the chair 
between him. He had to see how important this was. “Marc. She worked with me, 
tried to teach me to fight, to shoot, to defend myself. I owe her my help. The 
Bortan will kill her.”
Something darkened in his expression. She sensed disapproval and straightened, 
willing herself to be strong in front of this powerful man. His devastating good 
looks almost brought her to her knees, but she wouldn’t be controlled by her 
body. Lust for him would only keep her where she’d been for years. And if all he 
wanted from her was her body, it would be best to know that now. Because she had 
a mind too, one she planned to use.
Marc turned, opening the door. “Where did the Bortan take the woman who was 
here?” he asked, his voice calm.
She heard instant movement, shuffling coming from the outer room, although she 
couldn’t see past his massive frame.
Minutes passed and Dree didn’t dare think about what their response might be. 
Images of them torturing Borna slowly while she screamed for mercy, or of her 
fighting with everything she had until she took her last breath, plagued her to 
the point where she could barely move.
“We’ve a position on the carrier that left here,” one of the men beyond Marc 
finally spoke up. “It’s parked on one of the roads not too far from here.”
Dree took a step toward Marc. “Why would it just be parked?”
He didn’t turn around to acknowledge her. “Have someone check it out.”
Dree touched the long cloak that covered his backside, feeling the warmth from 
him travel through her fingers. Marc turned slowly, looking down at her, his 
expression soft, but guarded.
“And this is what you did while at this farm? You learned to fight?” he asked 
her, but she knew he wanted every detail.
Her heart constricted, worry cloaking her as to how he would react from the 
knowledge that she’d surrendered to her old mistress, obliged when asked for the 
sexual favor.
The room they were in suddenly seemed too small, his presence too overwhelming. 
She didn’t know his temper, but wasn’t ready to find out under such close 
quarters. “They took me in as a servant,” she told him, not able to look up at 
his face. She focused on the edge of his collar, the soft chest hair that peeked 
out over the material taunting her. “Borna worked with me in the evenings.”
He didn’t say anything. Guilt swam around her. Never before had having sex with 
another man affected her like this. She didn’t want to hurt Marc, or let him see 
her weakness when it came to her previous mistress. She wanted to be strong, and 
more than anything, she wanted him to see her that way.
The outer door to the house opened, shuffling behind him a welcome distraction.
“We’ve got an occurrence.” Trent Dar spoke from behind them.
Her breath got caught in her throat. The Gren was the last person she’d expected 
to ever hear again. But thank the gods he was alive.
Oh shit.
She had run from Marc for nothing. Well, it would be the last time.
Chapter Fifteen
 
Something had happened to Dree while she was at Kopah-Torl. Marc knew she held 
back information from him and had a feeling it wasn’t pleasant. For the moment, 
he would be satisfied knowing she was safe, and back by his side. He didn’t have 
time to focus on why that mattered so much to him. But something about this 
small woman with the shiny white hair and touching gray eyes reached a part of 
him he hadn’t even known he had.
He walked into the main room of the house they had taken over as a small 
headquarters on the outskirts of the kingdom.
“Fill me in,” he told the Gren, aware that Dree moved alongside him.
“A small troop of Bortan has landed in a shuttle just north of Torin.” Trent Dar 
shoved his long cloak over his shoulders, moving over to the cooler where he 
helped himself to a drink. “The ships are barely in the outer atmosphere so the 
only conclusion at the moment is that somehow they have another vessel that we 
haven’t tracked.”
He didn’t have to say a word to his man at the communication board. Marc looked 
down at the monitor in front of his officer, while the screen showing the 
orbiting satellites appeared.
“We’ve got a hold on three ships,” the officer told him.
Marc saw the small bleeps that showed him that the ships were indeed moving 
close to being in orbit. Anger brewed through him. He would not lose Benox 
because King Sorale was fool enough to invite these surgically altered assholes 
to his planet.
“We need to secure the kingdom,” Trent said. The Gren stood looking outside the 
window by the door. “It’s time to take this place down.”
“Agreed.” Marc looked down at Dree, who seemed focused on the monitor showing 
the satellites and incoming ships. Things would get ugly and he needed to find a 
place where she would be secure and protected. “Bring in another ten thousand 
men. Find the King and bring him to me. Do whatever it takes to bring the 
kingdom under my control.”
Dree glanced his way, her gray eyes deep with worry. He looked forward to the 
day when he could spend his time leisurely learning every inch of her. The soft 
silky feel of her hair, the smooth texture of her unmarked skin, her curves, 
soft breasts, and her sweet erotic taste—all of it. He wanted to know her better 
than he knew himself.
The door opened again and several more of his men entered.
“Cover every inch of the castle.” He needed to get to work, get this nasty 
little mess the King had created under control. “I want it secured and I don’t 
want a Bortan in this kingdom anywhere by nightfall.”
“Understood.” One of the men turned, leaving the room while the other walked 
over to the computers.
Discussion followed while they determined what roads were still open, where the 
Bortan could travel, and how much air security was needed. Dree had moved to the 
side, still watching the officer who monitored off-planet travel. At one point, 
she pointed to something, her voice a soft whisper as she asked a question. The 
officer, a young pup who knew his work, smiled up at her, graciously explaining 
what she wanted to know.
A dark wave of possessiveness rushed through Marc. His insides tightened, the 
feeling wrenching at his heart.Mine. There had never been another woman that he 
would fight for, make sure no other would touch. But something about Dree 
brought out the predator in him, the urge to ensure that everyone, including 
her, knew she belonged to him.
Gritting his teeth, he focused on the discussion around him, authorizing 
transport of troops while they determined the best place to station the men and 
women who would secure the large amount of land King Sorale ruled.
His communication device beeped and he pulled it from his shirt pocket and 
secured it to his ear. “Go ahead,” he said, activating the line.
“I’m out here at that carrier that took off with that woman,” the warrior told 
him who had gone to check out the whereabouts of Borna. “The thing appears to be 
abandoned.”
“No sight of the woman?” Again he focused on Dree who now leaned over the 
officer and ran her fingers over the monitor.
She was trying to understand something and he would love to know what it was. As 
if she sensed that he watched her, she looked up at him, a wavy strand of hair 
drifting over her face. She brushed it to the side, her soft gray eyes checking 
him out. Even with all of his warriors surrounding him in the small quarters, 
heat rushed through him from that sensual look she gave him. What he wouldn’t do 
for just a small amount of time to bury himself inside her.
“No sight of anyone, but we do have one dead Bortan here.” The man’s words 
brought him back to the conversation.
“How did he die?” he asked, keeping his focus on Dree.
The snug farmer’s clothing she wore accentuated the firm curve of her hips. He 
noticed the strain on the button between her breasts and imagined undoing it 
with his teeth. The first chance he got he was going to fuck her silly.
“Laser wound to the neck, severed right through. I didn’t notice him at first. 
He’s got so many implants that there wasn’t as much blood.”
Which was a typical Bortan.
“One of those implants could be a self-destruct mechanism, not to mention a 
locating device so they can record him as dead without having to witness the 
body.” It made Marc sick how the Bortan race had turned themselves into a bunch 
of machines. There was little wonder why they showed such little value for life 
on other planets when they barely valued their own lives.
“Understood.” The guard signed off, and Marc guessed he would destroy the Bortan 
before the body destroyed everything around it when it blew up.
Dree still watched him, chewing her lower lip. The act made his cock stir to 
life, the urge to take her off somewhere alone tempting him.
He turned to where the Gren stood over one of the control panels. “Once we have 
the castle secure, I will return to Torin,” he told him.
Trent Dar nodded. “Arrange your party if you like, we’ve got enough men to take 
over the kingdom at this point. Our computers show we outnumber the Bortan here 
by a good margin.”
“You just want me out of here so you can get all the credit for taking down the 
King.” Marc smiled, knowing neither one of them would miss out on the action 
about to take place.
“We got an explosion on the upper levels of one of the towers at the castle.” 
His officer sounded excited, quickly pushing buttons in front of him on the 
panel.
Marc felt the adrenaline pump through everyone in the room. The excitement of 
battle, the anticipation of victory, putting things right. It pumped through 
everyone’s blood, the energy sparking in the air around them.
His people didn’t crave battle. They weren’t blood-hungry. But all of them knew 
that if King Sorale remained alive and leader of the kingdom, the Bortan would 
take over. And now the moment had arrived. Everyone in the room glowed with 
expressions showing their eagerness to see the King brought in and the Bortan 
kept away.
“Let’s go.” Marc pulled his cape over his shoulders, gesturing to the Gren.
Looking over at Dree, her soft gray eyes wide while she nibbled away at her 
lower lip. She looked so soft, so small and fragile. There wasn’t an ounce of 
warrior blood in her. Without thought he reached for her, pulling her to the 
side.
“This won’t take long. You will be safe here.” He searched her face, needing to 
know she wouldn’t run from him again. “If you leave here, I can’t ensure your 
protection.”
Dree instantly shook her head. He grabbed her shoulders, her soft silvery-white 
hair contrasting with his black gloves.
“Don’t leave me again.” The sound of panic didn’t exist in her quiet words. But 
he sensed it consuming her, knew she didn’t completely trust him to protect her. 
That ate at him like a nasty acid, tearing through his insides.
“Trust me, Dree.”
If she would just do that, all would be fine. He couldn’t worry about her and 
focus on the matters at hand. And ever since he’d met her, all he could think 
about was her. She had branded him, sifted through his senses, making herself 
one with him. He needed her assurance that she would stay put until he returned.
“You told me I wouldn’t leave your side again. I’m going with you.” Her 
determination surprised him.
Dree’s shoulders stiffened underneath his grasp. The curve of her breasts 
pressed against her shirt, her nipples puckering while something coursed through 
her blood that he didn’t quite understand.
“Like hell you are. This is war, Dree. You will do as you are told, and stay 
put.” He watched her jaw set in determination, her soft gray eyes darkening to a 
shade he hadn’t seen before.
Passion ran through her. It sizzled through his gloves. His insides filled with 
it, consuming him, setting him on fire. He would know before he left this room 
that she would stay put. Regardless of her determination, of whatever craving 
she might have to share in the excitement, her safety was in his hands. And he 
wouldn’t relinquish it to her foolishness.
“Don’t leave me,” she whispered.
The room spun with activity around them, but he saw only her. Her willfulness 
worried him, but he knew this was where she needed to stay. Pulling her into his 
arms, feeling her soft warmth against him, he vowed to take care of matters so 
that he could enjoy fucking her for hours. The need to be alone with her, take 
her home to Torin, offer a life to her that she’d never had before filled his 
blood with the drive needed to set things right in the kingdom. This land would 
be secure under his leadership, the Bortan exiled, and they would go home.
“Keep her safe,” he told his communication officer while looking over her head.
The man nodded solemnly.
Dree pulled away from him, folding her arms over her chest and then turning away 
from him. Better for her to be mad and safe, than put in the line of fire.
He nodded to Trent Dar and then followed him out the door to the gliders.
Leaving Dree behind left a knot in his gut that he didn’t like. The look of 
rejection wasn’t missed in her pretty gray eyes, the pouty twist of her lips. 
Her entire body had stiffened when he turned and left.
Thoughts of returning to her, seducing her until she softened in his arms, made 
him even more determined to do what he had to do and then hurry to return to 
her. He wanted her small hands gliding up his chest, her sweet body pressed 
against him, willing him to take her, enjoy that hot little body of hers. And he 
would too. His cock ached to pound that tight little cunt of hers.
The second he was airborne, he saw the smoke drifting into the air. Within 
minutes of flying, the outline of the castle appeared and he saw that the far 
side of it billowed with smoke.
“We’re going in,” he told Trent Dar through the mouthpiece he had attached to 
his head.
The Gren nodded, glancing over at him through the dome of his glider. Those 
penetrating black eyes showed his determination. He ached for this moment as 
much as Marc did. They would be there when the King was found, brought to his 
knees, destroyed once and for all so that Benox could be saved.
“I want the leader of the Bortan found as well,” Marc told him. “We need 
assurance those fucking bastards will back off. I don’t want them crawling 
around this planet like disgusting rodents.”
“We’ll send a transmission to them now. Make sure they are aware we are taking 
the kingdom. We’ll tell them they are next if they don’t back down.” The Gren 
moved his gloved hands over the control panel on his glider.
Marc knew he contacted the warriors who would carry out the task. Trent Dar 
seldom waited for confirmation from Marc before acting. No other man would get 
away with such liberties. But the Gren wouldn’t be his number one if he couldn’t 
act on his own, knowing what Marc approved of and what he would not allow.
His men were posted all around the castle. Curious onlookers hung out in the 
streets, by their homes. It would take time reestablishing the government in the 
kingdom after the King’s death. The House of Torin would claim the land, 
installing its government.
Landing out front, he led the way toward the castle with Trent Dar and a group 
of his men in tow.
“The Bortan still swarm through the place,” one of his guards told him once they 
entered the castle.
“How long until we have the place secured?” Already he led the way through the 
great courtyard where not so long ago beautifully adorned people casually 
strolled.
Now the courtyard stood empty, a gray hue filled the area while dust settled 
from explosions down the long dark halls. Impending death weighed heavy around 
him, the smell of burnt flesh making his stomach turn. Once an erotic façade, 
the castle now showed its true colors, a death trap, stench and injustice 
painted clearly around him.
Their boots echoed in a rhythmic beat as the group of them headed down the 
hallway toward the part of the castle that had exploded. More of his men met 
them in one of the inner courtyards. The place was a maze of battle zones. 
Echoed explosions vibrated the walls while they moved into thicker smoke with 
more debris on the once spotless floor.
“It’s hard to say at the moment,” the guard fell into stride next to Marc while 
speaking. “There are breakouts going on everywhere. The Bortan have set up quite 
a few stations throughout the castle.”
“I want them out. All of them.” He could smell their stench in here, the 
metallic blood an atrocious reminder of the warped civilization the Bortan had 
become. “Don’t bother with prisoners.”
The guard nodded, falling to the side to return to his post.
They reached the next hallway when laser fire broke out.
“Take cover, men,” Marc said over his shoulder, and hunched down as he pulled 
his laser, moving forward into the smoke filled hallway.
There were people running ahead of him, but it was impossible to tell who were 
Bortan and who were his men. Entering into the hallway going the other way, 
several Bortan came into view, the silver embedded in their skin apparent even 
through the thick haze of smoke.
Sweat broke out in beads across Marc’s forehead. He fired, his muscles tense 
while running forward, taking out the Bortan ahead of him. The Gren was next to 
him, his men behind him, their boots making a clamoring sound that echoed 
through his brain. Bortan suddenly seemed to be everywhere.
“Watch your back,” someone yelled.
He pressed himself against the wall, firing in front while his men covered the 
rear. Screams filled the air while his men fell, along with the Bortan.
“Let’s go,” Trent Dar yelled, lunging forward while plaster fell from the 
ceiling around them.
An explosion sounded at the same time they reached the end of the hallway. Smoke 
billowed out in front of them, making it hard to tell how large the courtyard 
was that they had just entered.
Marc noticed a woman, managing a weapon almost the length of her, roll onto the 
floor, and fire again toward the other end of the courtyard. The weapon had a 
mighty kick to it, sending her sliding across the floor. At the same time, 
bloodcurdling screams echoed through the other end of the courtyard.
“That is a Bortan weapon,” Trent Dar whispered, coming up alongside Marc.
“And she is firing at the Bortan?” Marc could only tell that she didn’t wear a 
Torin uniform. The woman wasn’t one of his warriors. “Who is she?”
He watched her recover the weapon, moving quickly, lifting the thing with more 
ease than he would have guessed a person of her size capable.
Slowly the smoke at the other end of the courtyard settled, the screams 
subsided, and moaning and dead bodies lay in piles at the entrance of another 
hallway.
Marc headed toward the woman, who walked toward the hallway.
“You are on top of the main headquarters of the Bortan,” his communication 
officer said into his ear.
Marc got close enough to the woman to see long strands of black hair falling out 
of a bun at the nape of her neck. She wore the same type of farmer’s outfit that 
Dree had on. Her figure was fuller than Dree’s. She was larger and a bit 
heavier, with a larger muscle tone. And obviously with the skill of a seasoned 
warrior. She moved ahead of Marc without hesitation, heading straight into the 
lair of the Bortan.
“Acknowledged.” He’d almost reached the woman, and she slowed, looking over her 
shoulder at him when he spoke. “Scan the area. I want to know how many are still 
alive.”
Dark eyes studied him. He moved his mouthpiece to the side, stopping next to the 
woman while glancing toward the hallway. The smoke burned his eyes and the 
stench of death was repulsive. But as he stood in front of the woman, noting 
something akin to pride in her expression, he found his thoughts drifting toward 
Dree.
“Well done, soldier,” he said to her.
She didn’t respond, her expression not changing while she glanced from him to 
the men around him.
“Where did you get the Bortan weapon?” the Gren asked her.
She adjusted the long blaster, resting it over her shoulder. “I stole it,” she 
told him without ceremony.
Something dark and haunting passed over her eyes, a challenge seeming to cross 
her expression while she pursed her full, pouty lips, waiting for him to ask her 
something else.
Marc’s communication device beeped quietly in his ear, preparing the line for an 
incoming message.
“Go ahead,” he said, adjusting the mouthpiece.
“There are a handful of Bortan inside one of the chambers due north of you. They 
have a lot of equipment in there, computers is my guess.” The officer hesitated 
as if trying not to speculate.
Marc always made it clear to his warriors that he only accepted facts. “Do you 
think that is where they are communicating with the ships?” he asked, breaking 
his own rule as he asked for an opinion that couldn’t be based on fact.
“Your guess is as good as mine.”
Marc almost smiled. His men were well-trained.
“We’re headed in.” He closed the transmission, gesturing with his hand at the 
same time for his men to follow him.
“I want the leader alive, if possible,” he said to Trent Dar.
The Gren nodded. “We’ll have him contact their ships,” he said, finishing Marc’s 
thoughts for him.
The woman turned, continuing to walk ahead of him, leading the way toward the 
dead Bortan.
Marc reached out, touching her shoulder. She turned quickly, almost jumping 
clear of him in reaction to his touch. Those dark eyes pierced through him.
“You aren’t one of my warriors.” He made it a statement more than a question.
“No.” The woman looked away from him, toward the hallway, and then returned her 
dark gaze in his direction. “But I am going in there. With or without you, I 
will ensure they are all dead.”
He believed her. She shouldered that weapon as if it was light as a feather, her 
expression showing the fire burning through her, strength and determination 
apparent in her stance.
“I appreciate your determination. But I am in charge here.” He wouldn’t insult 
her. He made his words calm and soothing.
She wasn’t pleased by what he said, though. Something changed in her expression, 
something dangerous that made her appear she would be a worthy opponent in any 
match. And it was more than her fighting power. Her beauty was more than a 
distraction. Full curves in plain clothes that fit snug to her showing off 
shapely hips and full, ripe breasts. If that long black hair was unwrapped he 
had a feeling it would fall to her ass, the glossy black texture of it enough to 
make a man imagine it drifting over his body while she rode him hard and fast. 
Everything about her looked very fuckable, and he had a feeling she knew that, 
and used her body as a weapon.
“You are Marc of Torin.” The way she slowly drawled out his name made him wonder 
if she viewed in him reverence or was insulting him.
“Yes. And you will be properly awarded for your efforts here once we have the 
castle secure.” He walked forward, letting her know that regardless of her 
beauty he wasn’t affected.
They had a job to do.
There wasn’t time to make sure the woman didn’t follow them. He led the way into 
the hallway, stepping over the dead, stopping at the first door while the Gren 
stepped around him. He stared into the dark eyes across from him, Trent Dar 
ready to pounce on his command. Nodding once, the two of them sprang at the 
door. Marc kicked it open and they entered at once, lasers ready to fire.
The room was empty.
Gesturing for his men to follow, they moved to the next door, and did the same 
thing. Again it was empty.
Where the fuck were they?
There were three more doors down the length of the hallway. Bortan lay behind 
one of them, waiting for them, anticipating their arrival. Marc’s muscles were 
balled tight with anticipation, the urge to take them down rushing through him, 
overpowering him with adrenaline. The slightest sound would make him jump, ready 
to fire. Only years of serious training kept him at bay, made him think before 
he acted.
And that was what saved the fool woman’s life when somehow she appeared at the 
other end of the hallway, her large weapon aimed directly at him. He didn’t move 
but stared at her, noting her almost demonic expression while her shiny black 
hair bordered her face, her dark eyes watching him like the predator would its 
prey.
She gestured with the weapon, telling him without speaking to go to the next 
door. He didn’t understand why a woman dressed as a farmer carried the skills of 
a warrior, but he would worry about that later. He would also address her 
insubordination later.
Glancing over at Trent Dar, the man already had his eyes locked on the next 
door, his laser aimed, ready to fire on command. Marc turned his attention to 
the door, the solid wooden frame giving no indication what might be on the other 
side.
One of his men stepped forward, testing the doorknob and finding it locked.
“Stand back,” Marc said quietly, and aimed at the ornate knob.
The quiet laser penetrated through it, the knob disappearing and leaving a hole 
where it had been.
They moved quickly, entering the room. A handful of Bortan opened fire 
immediately. One of his men next to him screamed, falling to his death, almost 
knocking Marc over. Marc fired back, taking down the first two that he laid eyes 
on. The remaining three stepped backward, the metal in their body clinking as 
they moved away cautiously from an elaborate computer setup.
“Disarm them.” Marc moved to the control panel, studying the foreign equipment.
“Borna, you betray your people.” The metallic voice spoke with disgust.
Marc glanced quickly at the Bortan who was being searched by his own men while 
he spoke with disdain. Just as quickly, he looked back to his other side as the 
woman moved in next to him to check out the equipment.
She ignored the Bortan.
Pointing to the control panel, she moved her fingers over several buttons. “They 
are monitoring their ships’ activities from here,” she told him. “I would say 
you can easily open a channel and communicate with them.”
Marc was stunned. The Bortan had called her Borna. She wore the same style 
clothing as Dree. And Dree had been frantic that a woman called Borna be found. 
This was the woman who had been taken by the Bortan, but who’d obviously escaped 
from them, and managed to lift a few of their weapons as well. And the Bortan 
who stood nearby, now under arrest by his own men, just told her that she 
betrayed her own people.
“Who are you?” he asked, staring down at the thick black hair that shadowed most 
of her face.
“She is Borna, once a member of the high council, leader of the fifth armies on 
Bort.” The Bortan stood tall while Marc’s men held their lasers on him, his 
fiery red eyes glaring at the woman. “She is a thief, stealing the most coveted 
treasure of the leader of Bort.”
Marc turned, a sense of warning streaming through him, looking from the Bortan 
to the woman who he had no doubts was the woman Dree had described to him. “You 
are a Bortan?” he asked her.
Elaborate tattoos were barely visible under her plain clothing. He hadn’t paid 
much attention to them until now. The ink pattern was different from any he’d 
seen in Torin, or in the kingdom. But from what he could tell by her appearance, 
she had no altered surgery. Every bit of her appeared real and natural.
“I am,” she answered like a warrior, her expression giving no indication if she 
despised her heritage or not.
“And what did you steal?” he asked her.
“His unborn child. And then I killed it.”
And then before anyone could stop her, she pulled her laser, and killed the 
remaining Bortan in the room.
Chapter Sixteen
 
“Damn it to all the hells, woman.” Marc turned on her, grabbing her laser.
It pointed toward the ceiling while she resisted him. Her strength impressed 
him. Dark eyes shot daggers at him though. He twisted her wrist until she let 
go. Then taking the large Bortan weapon from her as well, he handed them to one 
of his men.
“If I’d wanted him dead, he would have been that way already,” he told her.
“I wanted him dead.” The bitterness dripped from her words; an anger embedded so 
deep it had sent her on a mission of destruction, after her own people.
Marc nodded, knowing there was more to the truth. He turned to one of his men. 
“See if you can contact their ships,” he ordered, pointing to the computer in 
front of him.
“I can do it.” Borna moved forward, ignoring Marc as she stood next to his 
officer.
Marc took her arm, feeling the solid muscles ripple under his touch while he 
pulled her back. She turned on him, like a wild animal ready to strike, her 
black hair streaming around her face while dark eyes pinned him with a look to 
kill. Even outraged, her beauty would distract a man to madness if he allowed 
it. Her full lips, with her mouth parted just enough to allow her heavy panting 
to cause her breasts to stretch the material over them, would be all it would 
take to give her that moment’s advantage.
He took his time though, continuing to pull her toward him, almost lifting her 
off the ground. Her breath burned hot against him, her breasts pressing into him 
when he lifted her so that they almost looked at each other eye to eye.
Borna was everything Dree wasn’t. A hardened warrior, disguised as a farmer for 
some reason. Dark and sultry, her sexual skills were part of her fighting power. 
And he had a feeling she could be deadly. Nothing about her was soft, not her 
attitude, or her body. Dree was everything that Borna wasn’t, and Borna did 
nothing for him.
“You will do as you are told, or I will have you shackled. Any questions?” He 
didn’t look away from those dark brazen eyes.
Not one ounce of fear seeped through her. She didn’t even nod or shake her head. 
Marc dropped her, believing that he’d made his point clear. Borna straightened 
her shirt, and he noticed that not even her hands shook. She wasn’t afraid of 
him. But she did stand down, not saying a word or making any attempt to move 
closer to the computer.
“I think we can open communication here.” The officer at the console pushed a 
few buttons.
An explosion rippled from behind them, the impact from it shaking the floor.
“The dead Bortans.” Trent Dar moved toward the door.
“They are all going to explode.” Borna spoke up too.
“Can we get this computer out of here?” Marc hurried around the console, looking 
to see how it was patched in at the back.
Another explosion rippled through the castle, this one further away and more 
muffled.
“I want everyone out of the castle.” They didn’t have a lot of time. Marc 
started dismantling the computer. “This entire structure will go with the amount 
of dead Bortan in here.”
This time when Borna leapt forward to help tear down the computer, he didn’t 
stop her. She moved over it as if it were her own, handing over the equipment to 
his men and then going after the next piece.
Hallways started to collapse as they hurried out of the room.
“How many warriors are still inside?” Marc yelled over falling debris while they 
covered their heads and ran toward the exit.
“I don’t have an official count.” Trent Dar answered.
Marc looked around to see his communication officer was no longer with them. 
Part of a wall collapsed just as they reached the first courtyard, but he didn’t 
look behind him to see who made it and who didn’t. Dead Bortan blew up all 
around them, the metal from their bodies flying, proving just as deadly as the 
falling structure around them.
“This way.” He gestured for everyone around him to follow and hurried to the 
large open windows at the end of the huge courtyard.
It would be a fool’s mission to try and leave the way they had entered.
The Gren yelled into his communication device. “Have a glider at the west wing, 
yes. Fly in through the courtyard window.”
A glider flew over their heads just as they reached the window. It turned 
around, landing while Marc hurried with the equipment, his men huddling around 
the glider as well. Within a minute they had the computer loaded.
“Get out of here now.” Marc slapped the woman on the back, while she gunned the 
glider to life. “Head back to Torin with this. I’ll ensure that you have 
backup.”
She nodded while the dome covered her and then was gone in the next second.
“Let’s get out of here.” He didn’t need to encourage his men.
Explosions seem to ripple everywhere around them. It became harder to see but he 
needed to make sure everyone was over the top of the large window ledge before 
climbing over himself.
There was almost an eight-foot drop to the ground, and he hit it hard. But there 
was no time to catch his breath. Breaking into a run, he sprinted across the 
ground, out of the heavy smoke and into daylight.
The suns blinded him almost immediately.
But something caught his eye, and he stopped running, holding his hand over his 
eyes while he squinted at Borna. The woman raced across the grounds in the 
opposite direction as the rest of them.
Black hair tumbled around her while she flew gracefully away from them. 
Something didn’t sit right with her exodus though, and in the next minute he 
realized what it was.
The woman tumbled into another woman, tackling her, the two of them rolling to 
the ground and then tumbling down the hill. Something compelled him and he raced 
after her.
At the top of the hill, Marc froze. Borna moved to her feet quickly, pulling the 
woman she’d tackled to her feet as well. Shaking her, obviously giving her a 
severe reprimand, the woman appeared defenseless under Borna’s grasp.
Marc focused on the shiny white hair that streamed free around the woman. That 
and her creamy white skin contrasted deeply against the darker Borna. The woman 
looked toward him, over Borna’s head, up the hill where he stood. Those pale 
gray eyes widened and her mouth opened, as if to yell his name. But in the next 
instant Borna took off running, her grip hard on Dree as she dragged her along 
with her.
Marc pulled his mouthpiece down so that he could speak. “Round up all warriors 
and give me a count of the dead. Verify that all Bortan are dead, and then get 
the hell out of here. I will catch up with you shortly.”
And find that blasted king, he wanted to add. But his men would find him. Scum 
like that couldn’t stay hidden forever.
He terminated the transmission before he could be questioned, and then raced 
down the hill after the two women.
The two of them moved quickly but neither were a match for his long-legged 
sprint. Borna ran furiously down the street, dragging Dree with her, away from 
the castle while explosions reverberated behind them.
They reached a nearby house, already looted with windows broken out either by 
locals or the Bortan. The structure was a mere shell, but solid protection 
against the potential fallout from the castle.
He sucked in dust-filled air, his eyes burning while the stench around him 
turned his stomach. Slowing outside the house, he paused before reaching the 
door, the two women’s voices drifting toward him.
“What in the hell did you think you were doing?” Borna sounded harsh, furious, 
her tone that of a leader issuing a severe reprimand.
“I will not be put in a room and told not to move while death occurs around me.” 
Dree’s quick response was impressive.
It wasn’t Marc’s nature to stand in the shadows. He never had a problem with 
making his presence known. Something compelled him though. A friendship had 
spawned between these two women, if friendship was the accurate term. The best 
way to explore it, to determine the connection these two had, was to stay put, 
hear out what was said.
“So you join death instead?” Borna hissed.
He imagined Dree backing down from such harshness.
“You have no warrior skills. One week of lessons does not make you a fighter,” 
she continued with her reprimand.
“Enough, Borna.” Dree took on a new tone. This was not the voice of a slave. “I 
can not kill like you can. There is no point bringing it up. But I will not 
stand by and worry when there might be something I can do.”
“And what exactly did you think you could do?” Borna’s tone didn’t soften. “It 
was enough that I had to deal with Marc of Torin. Taking out the Bortan would 
have been easier without him present. But worrying about you shouldn’t have to 
be on my list.”
“Then don’t worry about me.” Dree moved to the door, and then stopped in her 
tracks when she saw him.
“Don’t walk away from me.” Borna had grabbed her, pulling her backwards, without 
noticing Marc standing there.
Dree turned around, her long white hair floating around her with a mystical glow 
in the heavy shadows.
“Borna.” Her tone grew very quiet, an odd motherly tone to it. “I do not belong 
to you.”
“I can take care of you.” Borna also lowered her voice.
Marc made his presence known in time to see Borna stroke Dree’s cheek with the 
side of her hand. Something stirred inside of him. An emotion he didn’t want to 
name surfaced. Dark. Determined. Possessive.
Those dark eyes met his, thick black hair flowing down over her breasts. Borna 
was stunning, captivating, her appearance wild and untamed. And his predator 
instinct went into full mode. Suddenly she was the enemy.
Reaching for Dree, his heart swelled when she went to him, a look of pure joy 
brushing across her face when she looked up at him.
“I know you told me to stay put,” she began.
But he cut her off. “Let’s go.”
He held Dree close to him but kept his gaze locked on Borna. An unspoken message 
passed between them. In a mere moment, with a simple possessive action, he hoped 
he made it quite clear that Dree belonged to him.
Borna hesitated when they turned to the door, but he would be damned if he would 
let the woman out of his sight. She was a mystery to him, and he didn’t like 
mysteries.
“You’re coming too.” He didn’t reach for her. There was no reason that he saw to 
treat this seasoned warrior any different than he would treat one of his own. 
“You have information for me, soldier. Let’s go.”
He sent orders for a carrier to pick them up, and they didn’t move far through 
the town before one arrived.
“The kingdom is under our control,” his man told him the second he relinquished 
the carrier. “We wait for your word to return to Torin.”
Several gliders had accompanied the carrier, offering them armed escort through 
town until they reached the rest of his warriors. Orders were put out quickly to 
send as many home as he could afford.
By late afternoon, he had warriors posted throughout the town, searching for any 
remaining Bortan, and ensuring homes wouldn’t be ransacked. No more lives would 
be lost if he could help it.
Pulling Dree to the side, he needed just a few minutes with her, the chance to 
hold her and feel her warmth pressed against him. She stood to the side of the 
room, watching with her large gray eyes while people worked around her. Borna 
had taken a seat alongside one of the consoles, appearing neither bored nor 
agitated. Her expression was blank, although he doubted she missed a thing going 
on around her. But Dree watched with wide eyes, soaking in everything around her 
with interest. Already he saw she was a quick learner.
Running his fingers down her smooth creamy skin, her warmth immediately traveled 
through him, sizzling him with a craving to devour her, drink her juices until 
he could take no more.
“Come with me,” he whispered into her hair, needing just a moment alone with 
her, but wishing for days to savor every inch of that luscious body.
Dree looked up at him, long thick lashes fluttering over soft gray eyes. She ran 
her fingers alongside her face, brushing strands of hair to the side. His cock 
hardened, a rush of need so potent it took over his body with a fiery vengeance.
“Where are we going?” she asked, the softness of her voice enticing.
Leading her out of the house, to the side of the building shaded from the suns, 
he pulled her into his arms. “We’re headed to Torin soon,” he told her, needing 
to hear that she wanted to go with him.
“I can’t wait to see your home.” She spread her fingers across his chest, 
leaning into him.
Her smile lit up his heart, emotions drifting through him too new to comprehend. 
There was so much to discuss with her. Taking her to Torin meant she would be in 
the public eye, seen by his side, viewed and judged by all of his people. If he 
didn’t take her for his life mate, all would decide she was his whore, or worse 
yet, a sex slave he had purchased at the kingdom. That wasn’t what he wanted for 
Dree. And he had a feeling she wouldn’t appreciate that reputation either.
But for the moment, in the precious time they had right now, all he wanted to do 
was taste her. Her eyelids fluttered while she sucked in a breath and raised her 
mouth to his. So smooth. So sweet. Her lips were full and moist as he tugged 
first at her top lip, and then nibbled on the bottom one.
“Marc.” She said his name on a breath, a deep sigh filled with the longing he 
felt.
Wrapping his arms around her, he crushed her to him, knowing there wasn’t time 
for much but unable to be gentle. She collapsed against him, her full breasts 
sweet torture as they pressed through the material. Her hardened nipples were 
more than a distraction, sending electric charges straight through him where 
they stabbed into his chest.
He grabbed her ass, lifting her, thrusting his rock-hard cock against her. “This 
is for you, baby,” he told her, biting at her mouth, tracing a path of moisture 
from her cheek to her ear. “I need to fuck you so bad.”
“Yes. Please make it soon.” Her willingness made him insane.
Her hair smelled so good, a mixture of something erotic, unique to Dree. The 
soft strands brushed against the side of his face, smooth and silky, teasing his 
skin causing a fever to burn through him. He could drown in her, basking in the 
softness of her skin, the gentle way she ran her fingers over his body, and the 
compelling touch of her mouth while she stroked her tongue over his skin. The 
woman made him want to be anything but gentle in return.
He opened his eyes, wanting to nestle into her hair, feel her body against his, 
run his hands over her breasts, savor her pussy. His mind boiled with need while 
his cock throbbed painfully against his pants.
It took a minute to focus on the woman standing at the end of the building. The 
suns captured the gleam in Borna’s black hair, which she’d twisted back in a 
knot behind her head. Long strands fell around her face, her dark eyes focused 
on them.
Marc straightened, staring at her over Dree’s head. Borna looked…aroused.
“What?” Dree sounded like she’d awoken from a dream, looking up at him with gray 
eyes clouded over with lust.
Borna had the same look in her eyes.
Dree turned slowly in Marc’s arms. His hands brushed over her breasts, wanting 
to savor the touch, but allowing her to move so she could see Borna.
“Sorry to interrupt.” Borna’s gaze fixed on Dree. “I didn’t know you had an 
interest in Marc of Torin.”
“Borna…” Dree took a step toward Borna.
Borna crossed her arms, her expression hardening. “Your men won’t let me contact 
Kopah-Torl.”
His moment had been interrupted. Dree left his arms, moving to Borna.
She turned to Marc, placing her hand on Borna’s arm. “There is no reason not to 
trust her,” she said.
Borna shrugged Dree’s arm off of hers. “I don’t need your help, Dree.”
Dree looked at her, ready to protest, but Borna turned around. “If I can’t 
contact them, I will simply head back to the farm.”
She walked back around the building, leaving the two of them alone again.
“She is a good person.” Dree crossed her arms, accentuating the curve of her 
breasts.
“You know nothing about her.” He searched for reasons why the woman shouldn’t be 
trusted, but came up lacking.
“She has saved my life twice. And she didn’t have to.” Dree walked up to him, 
her fingers tracing delicate paths up his chest. “You’re right. I don’t know 
anything about her,” she continued, her voice dripping with a sweetness that 
rushed through him like an alluring drug. “But I don’t know a lot about you 
either, yet I’m willing to travel to your home with you. So am I gullible, or a 
good judge of character?”
“There are times when I can’t picture you as a slave. You would have made a 
damned good diplomat.” He wrapped his fingers in her hair, pulling her head back 
so that he could see her face. “But I had intended to tell my men to let her 
contact her people.”
Her tongue darted out of her mouth, touching the tip of her upper lip. He 
imagined it licking his cock, those full lips wrapping around him. If he didn’t 
keep his thoughts at bay he would turn her around and fuck her right there 
alongside the house.
“My former mistress…” she paused and lowered her eyes since she couldn’t lower 
her face in the grip of his hands.
Marc sensed her embarrassment over her loyalty to her previous owner. The soft 
blush that spread over her face made her even more beautiful. He brushed his 
thumb over the warmth of her skin, encouraging her to continue.
“Marla of Torl trusted her. And Borna took me under her wing. She worked with 
me.”
He wanted to know how much she worked with Dree. There was something between the 
two women, and he wanted to know what it was. Or maybe the bond was on Borna’s 
side, and that was why Dree left. He wanted to believe she left for him, but he 
needed to hear from her why she returned.
“Then why did you leave?” he prompted. His insides tightened, preparing for the 
worst of answers.
“Marc,” she sighed, reaching for his hands and taking them in her smaller ones, 
pulling them into her grasp so that she held them in front of her face. Her 
breath was hot against his skin when she continued. “I needed to get my people. 
They could have a life on Kopah-Torl.”
Something inside him told him there was another reason. He couldn’t put his 
finger on it, but hard training made him good at reading people. Dree was an 
open book, trusting and so new to his way of life. And there was something she 
wasn’t telling him.
“We managed to get a few who claimed they were from Poltar out when we first 
entered the castle,” he told her.
“You did?” Her face lit up with more happiness than he’d seen before. “Where are 
they?”
“They left for Torin almost a week ago.” He knew this meant a lot to her because 
whatever censored emotions she’d had a moment before were now completely gone.
A shrill scream sounded from the other side of the house. Every muscle inside 
Marc hardened from the sound, while he braced himself instinctively for an 
attack.
Dree shuddered, turning and at the same time clinging to him. Protective 
instincts flushed through him. Their conversation no longer mattered, although 
issues remained unsettled. Grabbing her and holding her behind him, Marc pulled 
his laser, using the building and his body to shelter Dree while he moved toward 
the front of the house.
Chapter Seventeen
 
Marc’s body was as solid as the side of the house next to Dree. His heartbeat 
firmly in his chest, a strong repeating throb that she held on to, focused on to 
keep from panicking. Whoever screamed, it had been the last sound they made 
before dying.
“What happened?” She edged into him, suddenly craving the warmth of his body 
while a nasty chill rushed over her.
Marc held his laser in his hand, another one at his waist, crushing into Dree 
while she hugged him. He was a giant, a wall blocking her view around the side 
of the house.
“My guess is we have company.” His voice was low, hard, without emotion.
But his words sent a nasty chill through Dree.
He took a step forward, and she moved with him, not wanting to leave the 
security of his body. Every nerve ending in her body seemed to be on overload, 
having just had his hands on her, and now fear was pumping through her almost 
too fast for her to breathe. She wanted to go back to kissing him, to being in 
his arms.
Someone started running. And then there were footsteps everywhere. Marc had 
moved around the corner of the house, his arm extended low to keep her behind 
him.
“Get your fucking hands off of me.” It was Borna, and she sounded more than 
pissed.
Dree heard something behind her and turned in time to see a tall Bortan, his 
beady red eyes piercing her with their angry stare. A mean sneer crossed the 
half-human, half-machine face as he pointed a long gun at them.
She didn’t think. And later she would barely remember what compelled her, but 
somehow Dree pulled the laser from Marc’s belt.
A throat-wrenching scream escaped her lips as she fired at the Bortan. The 
surprised expression that crossed his face while the laser ripped through his 
body stunned Dree.
Her finger pressed against the cold metal of the trigger, seeming to become one 
with it. Muscles clamped down in her arms, preventing her from lowering them. 
She simply stared down the length of the weapon while continuing to fire.
Someone else rounded the building, the metal catching her eye before she even 
saw their face. Adjusting the gun, her finger smashing into the trigger, the 
female Bortan rounding the corner looked down when Dree sliced through her arm.
“Go away!” she screamed.
Her legs suddenly felt too wobbly to hold her. Stepping backwards, unable to 
stare any longer at the two Bortan bleeding on the ground, she turned, the urge 
to run driving her.
Marc’s powerful chest stopped her. Slamming into him, tears burned down her 
cheeks. Would the Bortan ever leave them alone?
“I killed them,” she cried out.
“Calm down.” Marc sounded too at ease.
She stared into his dark gaze, an angry fire burning in his eyes that she hadn’t 
seen before. A warrior stood before her, more dangerous and fierce-looking than 
any Bortan she had ever laid eyes on.
He grabbed her, nearly pulling her off her feet while moving around the front of 
the building. His body became a human shield, his grip a steel clamp around her 
arm.
Several people walked out of the house. Two Bortan, hauling a fighting and 
kicking Borna, moved into the yard.
“Get your fucking hands off of me.” Borna screamed, her body twisting, while 
long black hair flew around her, adding to the insanity of the moment.
“Marc of Torin. You will surrender.” The metallic voice rumbled toward them from 
the side.
Marc’s body twisted as he opened fire on the Bortan that moved toward them from 
the front of the house. But he only had his one weapon, his other laser still in 
Dree’s hand. The cold metal slid around in her grip, her palm so sweaty she 
could barely hold it.
The Bortans leaving the house fired toward them as well. Dree raised the laser 
in her hand, a scream wrenching from her throat as she tried to focus on either 
of the Bortan while Borna twisted and turned between them.
The sensation of falling, Marc underneath her, his massive frame preventing her 
from hitting the ground, distracted her. But it was too late. Her finger clamped 
down on the laser, her hair sticking to her tear-stained face while she fired 
blindly.
This was stupid. She needed to drop the damned weapon and figure out why they 
had fallen to the ground. It seemed the ground vibrated underneath them from 
heavy footsteps running around them. People were everywhere, and if she didn’t 
quit firing someone would get killed, like Borna or one of Marc’s men.
“Drop it, Dree.” It was a man’s voice, yelling at her.
She opened her hand, spreading her fingers, her arm still extended while the 
weapon left her grip, falling somewhere nearby.
Marc lay underneath her. Shoving her hair out of her face, she turned, and that 
is when she saw the blood.
“No!” She grabbed him.
But he was too heavy for her to lift.
“It’s okay, Dree.” Borna wrapped her arms around Dree, pulling her away from 
Marc. “It’s a flesh wound. He’ll be fine.”
“Marc.” She tried to pull free from Borna, who held her firmly in her arms.
Trent Dar lifted Marc, who indeed seemed to stand with some assistance.
Several other warriors and a handful of townspeople moved around them, dragging 
dead Bortan.
“Bring her to the carrier,” Trent told Borna as he helped the injured Marc walk 
the distance.
Blood stained through Marc’s shirt. He pressed his hand against his injured arm 
and straightened, walking tall and proud toward the carrier. She barely paid 
attention to the other warriors loading the computer equipment. Her heart raced 
so fast she could barely breathe. Borna held her close, almost carrying her 
while they followed the men.
“Are you okay?” Borna’s tone was gentle, soothing.
Dree looked at her. This was out of character for her new friend.
“I have no idea,” she answered honestly. “I killed some people.”
“You did well, soldier.” Borna didn’t smile, but her dark eyes glowed, the same 
dangerous look she’d seen on Marc’s face hovered over Borna’s pretty features.
“It’s all a blur. I’m not sure that I did all that well.”
There were still people hurrying all around them. She had no idea where the 
people who lived in the homes around them had been all this time, but now they 
seemed to come out in hordes. Several women ran forward, carrying blankets that 
they lined in the back of the carrier.
“This should make you more comfortable.” One of the women did a little curtsy to 
Marc after arranging a few blankets in the back for him.
“It’s much appreciated,” he told her.
Dree heard the strain in his voice and knew he was in pain. Something weighed 
heavy on her heart, an ache that sank through her. She trembled, searching his 
face when he looked at her.
“We’ve sent the medics ahead,” Trent Dar told him. The Gren had climbed into the 
driver’s seat, turning to speak to Marc. “I can contact one of them to turn 
around.”
Marc shook his head, his dark hair pressed against his head from sweat. Dree 
climbed into the carrier, crawling so that she kneeled next to him.
“Let me see,” she whispered. “I can at least clean and wrap it.”
She needed to be strong, show the bravery that Marc displayed. All she wanted to 
do was crawl into his arms and cry, allow him to hold her.
His soft blue eyes were a pool of pain and frustration. “Help me get my shirt 
off.”
Touching him sent shivers through her body. She shouldn’t be turned on like this 
when Marc was hurt, in pain. But helping him glide his shirt over his body, 
muscles appearing everywhere in front of her, made her pussy throb.
Someone closed the carrier door behind them, casting dark shadows over his 
immaculate chest. Dree’s fingers trembled when she reached for his injured arm, 
sliced wide open from the laser.
“We’ll just wrap it for now.” Marc looked over her to the Gren. “I don’t want 
anyone coming back this way who doesn’t have to.”
Borna had climbed in the front, sitting next to Trent Dar. “You have a med kit 
in this thing, don’t you?”
Dree looked in her direction while Trent Dar grunted something. Whatever they 
did, she feared they needed to do it quickly. Marc was losing a lot of blood.
Borna pulled a box out of the compartment Trent Dar pointed to, and then went 
down on her knees in front of Marc. Dree found herself moving to the side, 
placing her hands on his powerful shoulders while Borna wrapped the injury.
Marc turned his head away from Borna, his blue eyes glassy as he stared at her. 
“Kiss me.”
Dree smiled, more than willing to be his distraction from the pain. Leaning 
forward carefully, she sucked on his lower lip. “Are you sure you can handle 
it?” she teased, losing herself quickly in the depths of his blue orbs.
Marc groaned, and then growled when Borna tugged on the bandages.
“She is going to kill me,” he muttered.
Borna knelt over him, her large breasts almost in his face while she secured the 
wrappings on his arm. If he were to turn his head, he could bury himself in her 
cleavage. Dree wondered if he found Borna as captivating as she did. Her dark 
beauty couldn’t be missed with her long hair, the color of night, streaming 
around her sensual body.
“More like she is saving your life.” Dree kissed his mouth, his chin, his 
cheeks.
She ran her fingers over his bare skin, feeling his muscles tremble under her 
touch. In spite of the pain, he was aroused. There was no way she would be able 
to handle such an affliction, carry on a conversation, and be turned on all at 
the same time.
“You saved his life,” Borna said, glancing her way. “You’re a better shot than I 
guessed.”
“She is right. You might actually be warrior material after all.” Marc smiled, 
melting her heart. And her entire insides turned to a molten liquid as well, his 
roguish good looks enough to make a woman beg to be fucked.
“Hardly.” Dree smiled back at both of them.
Stroking his shoulders, losing herself in the perfection of his body, the last 
thing she wanted to do was talk about how she’d killed people, even if they were 
Bortan.
“Well, I think that bandage should hold you until your doctors can look at you.” 
Borna leaned back, twisting her hair absently behind her back while she spoke.
Marc looked at her, leaning hard into Dree as he did. He seemed suddenly very 
sleepy and she wondered what was in that medic kit Borna had used. Dree hadn’t 
paid close attention. Possibly Borna had given him a sedative to ease the 
discomfort, in which case, she would have a very heavy blanket over her through 
their journey to his home.
“Thank you.” Marc relaxed even further.
Borna shrugged, obviously not comfortable with the gratitude and slid back into 
the front next to Trent Dar.
 
Dree must have fallen asleep. Half of her body tingled from lack of circulation 
while she struggled to adjust herself under Marc. It was very dark outside and 
she could tell the engines of the carrier slowed.
Within minutes they had stopped and the carrier doors opened. Several guards 
lifted Marc off of Dree, carrying him away into the night.
Dree slid out of the carrier on her rear, stepping onto the ground 
unceremoniously.
“Is this Torin?” She looked around her at the magnificent building that stood so 
high it disappeared into the darkness of the sky.
“I never thought I would step foot on this land.” Borna stood next to her, also 
looking around her and sounding just as awestruck.
“Follow me.” The Gren appeared out of nowhere, his long cape flowing around him 
as he walked ahead of them.
Dree walked next to Borna, following Trent Dar as he led them through a tall 
gate and into the huge building. If this was Marc’s home, his castle made King 
Sorale’s place look like a dump.
The Gren’s boots echoed in the large hallway, which was dimly lit with small 
round bulbs hanging from thick chains from the ceiling. Marc had disappeared and 
Dree had no idea where he led them. Her heart raced, half-excited and more than 
a little nervous.
After passing several closed doors, Trent Dar opened the one at the end of the 
hall and gestured for them to enter.
“You will come with me,” he told Borna.
Dree looked quickly around the dark room, and then back at the other two 
standing in the doorway. “Does she have to leave me?”
The Gren looked at her with those penetrating black eyes, and then at Borna. He 
lifted a shoulder lazily. “I was simply going to give her the room across the 
hall. Stay together if you like.”
With that, he turned and left the two of them, the steady beat of his boots 
echoing until they faded along with his presence.
“He brought you to Marc of Torin’s room.” Borna entered into the darkness and 
then placed her hand on a light pad on the wall. Instantly, soft light filled 
the room.
Its magnificence took Dree’s breath away. Not even her old master on Torl had 
lived this well. Thick carpet covered the floor, with a large bed definitely the 
center of attention in the middle of the room. Extravagant tapestries hung on 
the walls, rich in color and design. Dree didn’t recognize the artwork but 
doubted it was anything from Benox. The material looked foreign, almost alive.
“These are all spoils of victory,” Borna told her, running her finger over one 
of the tapestries and then moving to a glass case where weapons were on display.
Everything about the room was very masculine, dominating, powerful. Just like 
Marc of Torin. Nothing here appeared weak, not even the high-back ornately 
carved chair that set in front of the computer.
Borna moved there next, sliding the chair back and plopping down in it like 
she’d done it a million times.
“What are you doing?” Dree asked, glancing at the door, which was still open 
with the quiet hallway outside giving no indication that anyone was nearby.
“Contacting Kopah-Torl.” Borna pressed several buttons until the transmitting 
screen appeared. “I’m sure they are monitoring our activities. If they don’t 
want me doing this, someone will appear soon.”
Borna sat tall in the chair, her black hair wild and unbrushed, falling around 
her. Her confidence, her willingness to take on the unknown, brace new 
situations was enviable. It would take time, but Dree felt that confidence 
growing in her slowly. She knew it had been a streak of luck, but she had helped 
out when the Bortan tried to attack them before they left the kingdom. With 
time, she would come in to her own.
Moving behind Borna she watched while the transmission opened and then finally 
Trev of Kopah appeared on the screen. His expression remained solemn for only a 
moment and then he smiled warmly.
“Hello, ladies. You two are quite a sight for tired eyes.”
Icy fingertips crept up Dree’s spine. She froze, staring at the man she would 
have been content not to see again. Of all the men she’d fucked in her lifetime, 
running into any of them wouldn’t affect her the way she felt right now.
“I’ll be returning to the farm in the next couple of days,” Borna said without 
ceremony.
“Dree, we look forward to your return as well.” Trev gave no indication that he 
even remembered fucking her, his expression not changing while he glanced from 
one woman to the other.
Maybe their way of life was too ingrained in Trev and Marla, the two of them 
offering each other pleasure with other people. But it was a way of life now 
behind Dree. She wouldn’t be part of it.
“No.” The word barely escaped her lips. Cold sweat broke out over Dree’s body 
and she cleared her throat. “No,” she said louder.
“No?” Trev sounded sincerely surprised. “Well, sure we do, Dree. You will come 
home with Borna.”
Dree shook her head, her insides tightening while she attempted to stand up to 
someone she never dreamed of standing up to before. Borna looked up at her, 
something close to appreciation dancing in her dark eyes.
“I’m not returning to the farm.” Dree heard the words come out of her mouth, but 
wasn’t sure how she managed to say them. The urge to turn and run occurred to 
her. But she wanted to be strong, to show herself that she could indeed be a 
free-thinking woman. “We are at the House of Torin and I will be staying here, 
with Marc of Torin.”
“Good for you.” Borna spoke quietly, a grin appearing on her face. She turned to 
look back at the screen. “I’ll be returning alone,” she told him.
There was silence on the other end of the line. Dree couldn’t help think they 
were discussing her punishment for insubordination. But it wasn’t like that 
anymore. She was no longer a slave. This was a free world and she was part of it 
now, able to think and act for herself.
When Marla appeared in front of the screen, Dree didn’t miss the sad look in her 
eyes. But she smiled, glancing from one woman to the next.
“Dree. Trev tells me you have found a home at the House of Torin.” Marla nodded, 
a slight nod she’d seen her mistress do many times in the past, a gesture of 
approval. “I’m happy you are no longer waiting for yesterday to return. That is 
something Trev and I had to learn also. We had a good life, but it is no more. 
That doesn’t mean we can’t find happiness again. We both wish you the best in 
your new life.”
The transmission ended then, and Borna stood slowly. “You love him.” She didn’t 
make it a question, more like she was coming to accept new information.
Dree searched the beautiful woman in front of her, looking for disapproval, but 
she saw none.
“I think I do.” She reached out toward Borna, and the woman allowed Dree to take 
her hand. “I’ve never experienced love before, but it hurts when I’m not with 
him.”
Borna stepped forward and brushed her lips over Dree’s, her scent musky, 
captivating. “You are a good woman, Dree of Torl. Marc of Torin is blessed with 
you.”
Dree’s eyes fluttered shut, the gentle kiss not what she expected. Taking a deep 
breath, inhaling Borna’s scent, she experienced a flush of desire sweep through 
her.
“And you are an incredible woman also,” she said honestly. “I owe you so much.”
“No.” Borna put her fingers over Dree’s mouth, then brushed them along her 
cheek, her touch warm, confident. “I’m not sure I would have stepped up to help 
Marc of Torin with the Bortan if it weren’t for you. And it was something I 
needed to do.”
There was so much that was a mystery about Borna. Dree doubted anyone knew all 
of her secrets. But she nodded, and then pulled Borna into a warm embrace. “May 
the gods be with you,” she whispered into Borna’s thick long hair that smothered 
her face.
Borna returned the hug, but only briefly before pushing her to arm’s length and 
then looking over Dree’s shoulder. Dree turned and her breath was stolen away by 
Marc of Torin’s massive frame standing in the doorway.
Bare-chested, with nothing more than a small bandage over his arm, he stood 
there watching the two of them. His expression was dark, brooding, his light 
blue eyes looking dangerous. A predator—dominating, aggressive. He watched the 
two of them like a wild animal would watch its prey.
Borna stepped around Dree, walking up to Marc slowly, her manner calm and 
collected. Shoulders held back, her long black hair flowing freely around her, 
she stopped in front of him.
“Take care of her,” she told him.
Marc looked down at her and for a moment Dree worried for Borna’s safety. But 
then he stepped to the side, allowing her passage out of the room.
“At the end of the hallway one of my guards will escort you to the computer 
room. They are waiting for you there. You will help them contact the Bortan.”
Borna nodded and left them.
Marc approached her with the slow confidence of a successful leader possessing 
all the knowledge that he’d gotten what he wanted. Her heart raced in her chest. 
Suddenly there didn’t seem to be enough air in the room to breathe. She knew she 
stared wide-eyed at him, her breasts swelling while a slow throb began deep 
inside her pussy.
“You will explain everything when I return.” He ran his fingers through her 
hair, tangling his hand behind her head and tugging. “Every detail,” he added in 
a slow whisper.
Hot chills rushed through her. How long had he been standing in the doorway?
Chapter Eighteen
 
Dree swore she’d stayed up all night. She’d explored Marc’s room, learned more 
about the man she wished had been with her. But Marc had left, and never 
returned. When the first sun started to rise, she’d finally slipped out of her 
clothes and snuggled under the satiny smooth covers on her bed.
Now stretching, she blinked against the bright light coming in through the large 
window at the other end of the room. Her hand brushed up against something hard, 
warm, smooth and firm to the touch. Tingles rushed through her. Anticipation. 
Her pussy moistened with her hot cream. She ran her fingers over Marc’s arm, 
gently so as not to disturb him, and then simply rolled to her side and stared 
at the magnificent piece of art sleeping contentedly next to her in the large 
bed.
In his sleep, all the aggression gone, the predator was at rest. Long lashes 
brushed out fading into his well-chiseled face. Cheekbones so hard and masculine 
and a straight nose added to his perfection. Just staring at him stole her 
breath. Her cunt throbbed while her breasts swelled, the ache growing with every 
breath she took.
He still looked dangerous, like he could pounce into action at a moment’s 
notice. His body was relaxed, his expression calm, yet there was an aura about 
him, something that made her believe that even sleeping, he knew everything that 
went on around him.
Lying next to his naked body, so easily within her touch, made her heart stop 
beating. No man had ever affected her the way he did. She had no clue when he 
had finally joined her in the bed. But she did know he hadn’t touched her. Her 
pussy craved him too much right now, and there was no way she would have slept 
through him fucking her.
Stretching a bit more, she managed to slide the blankets down, uncovering him to 
the point where she could see that wonderful cock lying in a semi-relaxed state 
against a mound of dark curls. He simply took her breath away. The ache 
throbbing through her turned into a needy pain, her body preparing itself for 
him. She tightened her inner thighs, fighting the urge to run her fingers over 
her soaked cunt, to spread her thick cream over her throbbing clit.
Lying next to her like this, she could almost imagine him not powerful, not 
capable of saving an entire planet. Relaxed as he was, he appeared to be just a 
man, the most perfect specimen his gender had to offer, but just a man. But all 
of his power, his aggressiveness, his ability to control everything around him 
was part of who Marc of Torin was. And the entire package had stolen her heart.
She couldn’t believe she could just lie there and stare at him and be so 
perfectly content. Although maybe content wasn’t exactly the right word. Her 
fingers itched to travel over his body, feel his strength, explore every inch of 
him. She wanted to run her tongue over the firm curves of his muscles, taste 
him. She inhaled deeply, the throbbing inside her cunt turning into a furious 
ache.
“Come here,” he muttered.
Marc hadn’t moved. He didn’t open his eyes. But his command was quite clear.
Dree smiled, all too eager to cuddle against him. He snuggled in close, his arm 
wrapping around her, pulling her against him. Her breasts smashed against his 
rock-hard chest, her nipples crushing against the heat of his body. Tingles 
rushed through her, and she draped her leg over his legs, itching to adjust her 
pussy over his cock.
“How long have you been awake?” she whispered, not wanting to break the mood of 
his half-awake state. He was so damned sexy.
“Long enough to allow you an eyeful.” The corner of his mouth turned up, the 
smallest of smiles showing his amusement.
Dree blushed in spite of herself. “What makes you think I was staring?” There 
was no way he could have known that she was.
He opened one eye, glancing her way, the smirk on his face not disappearing. 
“You were staring,” he told her, sounding very convinced of the fact.
She wouldn’t lie to him, but didn’t want to admit the obvious. So she shrugged, 
rubbing herself against his hard body, wishing he would touch her more than he 
was. Her nipples tingled, craving to be sucked, her breasts too tender, the 
pressure only building the more she pressed into him. It was all she could do 
not to rock her hips against his hard thigh. Everything inside her craved him.
His arm draped over her shoulder, protectively, holding her to him. But 
otherwise he remained relaxed, waking up slowly. She knew she would die if he 
didn’t appease the growing pressure that made it hard to focus on anything other 
than mounting him and fucking him senseless.
“Did Borna help you understand the computer?” she asked, deciding to change the 
subject might wake him up a bit, and distract the craving that consumed her.
Marc rolled over, draping her with his body. He ran his fingers along the curve 
of her cheek, watching the movement with a lazy stare.
“The Bortan have left.” He didn’t see a need to share any more with her. She saw 
that.
But Dree wanted to know more, she didn’t want to be a toy meant to amuse after 
matters of the day were settled. She wanted to be part of his life, know his 
mind, share in his thoughts.
“What made them leave?” she pressed.
Marc ran his hand over her shoulder, coming dangerously close to touching her 
breast, the swelling ache there bordering on pain as he glided by. His fingers 
caressed her arm, which she held against her breasts between them.
Stretching her arm to the side, he ran his fingers along the underside, driving 
her nuts while he seemed content to simply watch the simple act.
“We defeated them. Benox will not be taken down by their covert ways.” He 
gripped her wrist, stretching her arm to the side while his gaze traveled over 
her body and finally to her face. “For now, we are again at peace.”
For now.And defeating the Bortan would make Marc of Torin more powerful. An 
entity someone else might want to come along and challenge. She knew she would 
be able to take on those challenges as long as she was by his side.
“So now what?” she asked, wiggling underneath him.
Marc’s smile was lazy, and pure sexual perfection. A fever rushed through her. 
The throbbing pain consuming her almost too much to bear. If he didn’t do 
something to her soon she would explode.
And then he moved. Quickly. One solid flowing movement that she didn’t have time 
to prepare for. Rising over her, the blankets gliding off both of them, he 
straddled her, pinning her to the bed, while grabbing her other wrist and 
pinning both of them next to her head.
A fire matching that burning inside her smoldered in his pale blue eyes. Staring 
down at her, his soft brown curls bordering his perfectly chiseled face, a 
twitch began in his jaw. His expression remained relaxed otherwise, but his mind 
was churning, thoughts spawning. Dree could only guess what he had in mind.
“You told me you left Kopah-Torl to free your people from the castle.” His 
statement came out of nowhere. “Now you will tell me the other reason.”
Heat spread over her as the memory of giving herself to Trev, consenting to her 
previous mistress’s wishes, burned through her with humiliation.
“Did you leave because of Borna?” He misread her thoughts.
Slowly she shook her head. She would always demand honesty from him and knew in 
turn, he deserved the same.
“I’m no longer a sex slave, Marc,” she began, more than aware of his powerful 
body crushing her into the soft bed underneath them. “Marla is my old mistress. 
I have obeyed her unconditionally all of my life.”
He knelt over her, his powerful legs pinning her two legs together. His cock, 
relaxed against her stomach, stormed to life over her words. But she knew more 
than lust surged through him. The predator, the possessor who would not allow 
what was his to be messed with, awoke within him. A storm brewed in his gaze and 
she wondered how he would react to the truth of the matter.
“What did she ask you to do?” His grip tightened on her wrists, not painfully, 
but bordering damned close to it.
Her breath caught in her throat. She was completely vulnerable to whatever he 
might do to her. Nothing she could do. Scream. Fight. Any attempt at resistance 
would be null.
But she wanted him to know what happened. She realized that. Something had come 
to life that night in her. A sense of freedom. The realization that she could 
have said no—that she should have said no. She had just realized it too late.
“She asked me to have sex with her life mate.” Dree searched his face quickly 
for his reaction.
The storm brewing in his gaze turned his eyes to a deadly shade of dark blue. 
She swallowed the lump in her throat, her heart racing while the room suddenly 
seemed way too warm. Panic rippled through her. Marc wasn’t going to take this 
well.
“And did you?”
Dree nodded, unable to speak. Her throat had gone too dry.
Marc almost leapt off of the bed, turning from her, moving quickly and silently. 
Fury radiated from him. But she couldn’t let him go.
Climbing off of the bed, she followed him to the large window where he stood 
naked and stared out at plush countryside that she doubted he saw at the moment.
“And I left the next morning,” she told him, aching to touch him, wanting more 
than anything to place her hand on his back, feel the powerful heat radiating 
from him. “I had found a place where my people could live well, work and be 
understood for their history.” She paused for a moment, looking down at the 
ground, unable to stare at his back any longer without touching him. “That place 
just wasn’t for me.”
Again Marc moved, the silent predator, his haunted eyes pinning her when she 
looked up at him. “Did you enjoy it?”
“I simply entered the mode that I had existed in for years.” She wanted him to 
understand. Whether he threw her out or not, he would know her heart. That was 
the best she could offer him. “I didn’t think. There was no feeling. He loves 
Marla. It is clear when you see the two of them. But they are from another 
world, another life. And yes, it was my life. I fucked without thinking, knowing 
the actions by rote and moving through each one of them until we were done.”
Marc stared at her. She wouldn’t look away. Watching him digest slowly what she 
had just told him, she waited for him to pass judgment, to realize finally that 
she wasn’t the woman for him. It became harder and harder to breathe. If he 
threw her out, she just knew she would die.
“And is that what you do with me?” he asked her, his tone as hard as the 
expression on his face. “You know the actions by heart, so do you just go 
through each one of them until we are done?”
Dree stared at him, stunned. She couldn’t believe he had just asked her such a 
thing. Suddenly she wanted to hit him, pound some sense through that male ego of 
his.
“No!” she yelled at him then turned away from him, throwing her arms up in 
exasperation.
Of all his possible reactions to what she had just shared with him, she hadn’t 
expected that one. She marched to the other side of the bed, needing space, but 
then turned to face him, planting her fists on her hips.
“With every man I have ever fucked, I’ve been dead,” she yelled at him. “You 
gave me life. I’ve learned to be free—truly free. A freedom I feel every time 
you ever touch me. But my mind is alive too. My thoughts, and my heart, explode 
when I am with you. You’ve shown me how to think—and how to love.”
She looked down at her feet, suddenly embarrassed at her admittance of love. 
Never had she told another soul that she loved them. But she did love Marc of 
Torin. There wasn’t a doubt in her mind.
His hands were on her before she knew he’d crossed the room. Lifting her, he 
tossed her onto the bed.
“Thoughts of murder enter my mind when I think of another man touching you,” he 
told her.
He didn’t crawl over her, or get on the bed with her, but simply stood over her. 
She realized then how hard his cock was, a dangerous weapon, swollen and angry, 
pointing straight at her. Moisture seeped from her cunt, a mixture of fear and 
desire swarming through her with more intensity than she thought she could bear.
“Swear to me no man will ever fuck you again. No one but me.”
She nodded without needing to think about it. “No one but you,” she whispered, 
wanting that more than she wanted to breathe.
When he finally moved over her, she spread her legs, wrapping herself around 
him, holding him with all of her strength to her. His cock pushed hard against 
the entrance of her pussy. She swelled, her pussy soaked with her thick cream, 
while she thrust upward with her hips, wanting him inside her before she died 
from the unbearable pain throbbing through her.
“You know that I love you.” He said it like he was talking about the suns 
rising, like it was the most assumed thing in the world.
“I wasn’t sure,” she admitted, her heart swelling so full with the knowledge 
that she could hardly breathe.
She had to look stupid with the giant grin that crossed her face.
Marc plowed deep inside her cunt, filling her, the pressure skyrocketing through 
her, forcing all air out of her lungs.
“For the sake of the gods,” she cried out. “Marc.”
“Tell me that you love me.” He pulled his cock out, almost leaving her, and then 
slammed with a driving force deep inside her so that she almost slid off of the 
bed.
“I love you,” she yelled, grabbing his shoulders, her eyes locked on his. “I 
want to be with you always,” she admitted, on half a breath.
Nothing had ever felt better than his cock when he began moving in and out of 
her. The inner walls of her pussy clung to him, loving the stroking of his shaft 
while it soothed the pressure that had built to the point of dying pain. 
Stretching her legs, sliding her feet along his arms until she rested them on 
his shoulders, she went over the edge when his cock buried itself deeper in her 
than ever before.
“Damn it. Dree.” Marc’s expression filled with turmoil. His eyes closing while 
he gritted his teeth. “You are so damned tight.”
The pressure building from his thrusts made it hard to think, hard to focus on 
anything but the pending explosion that was so close. Sliding her hands down his 
arms, she grabbed her breasts, squeezing her nipples, feeling the quick pain 
clear through to her clit.
“I hadn’t fucked anyone for a long time before you,” she told him, barely able 
to make the words come out, although the thought was clear in her head. “And 
this is the first time I’ve made love.”
His cock vibrated inside her, twitching and growing as he prepared to come. She 
forced herself to stay as relaxed as possible, wanting him deep within her, 
needing to feel every inch of him when he exploded.
But as he began to thrust harder, drive into her with more force than she 
thought she could endure, she couldn’t take it any longer. The pressure inside 
her broke, white light flashing before her eyes while every nerve ending inside 
of her exploded.
“Dear gods.” She would die. Never would she recuperate from such an orgasm. Rush 
after rush of hot cream flowed through her, the heat so intense she burned yet 
craved more. Her body contorted, tightening and relaxing again and again while 
she came all over his cock.
He fucked her harder, staring down at her with a determination that almost made 
her melt. And then his cock hardened, his body stilling. Muscles rippled 
everywhere over his gleaming skin, a sheen of sweat making him even more sexy.
Spilling his cum deep inside her, the hot squirts coating her, mixing with her 
own cream, she knew she had never experienced anything like this before. He came 
with such heat, such fire, branding her his for life. His pussy. His woman.
“My life mate,” he whispered into her ear while he collapsed over her.
Wrapping her arms and legs around him, she knew they were truly one.
“My life mate,” she agreed, while she felt their hearts beat as one.
 
About the author: 
 
All my life, I’ve wondered at how people fall into the routines of life. The 
paths we travel seemed to be well-trodden by society. We go to school, fall in 
love, find a line of work (and hope and pray it is one we like), have children 
and do our best to mold them into good people who will travel the same path. 
This is the path so commonly referred to as the “real world”.
The characters in my books are destined to stray down a different path other 
than the one society suggests. Each story leads the reader into a world altered 
slightly from the one they know. For me, this is what good fiction is about, an 
opportunity to escape from the daily grind and wander down someone else’s path.
Lorie O’Clare lives in Kansas with her three sons.
 
Lorie welcomes mail from readers. You can write to her c/o Ellora’s Cave 
Publishing at 1337 Commerce Drive, #13, Stow, Ohio 44224.


O'Clare, Lorie - Sex Slaves 03 - Waiting For Dawn






WAITING FOR DAWN
An Ellora’s Cave Publication, February 2005
 
Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.
1337 Commerce Drive, #13
Stow,OH44224


ISBN MS Reader (LIT) ISBN # 1-4199-0147-8
Other available formats (no ISBNs are assigned):
Adobe (PDF), Rocketbook (RB), Mobipocket (PRC) HTML

WAITING FOR DAWN Copyright © 2005 LORIE O’CLARE

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book may not be reproduced in whole or in part without 
permission.

This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, 
or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. They are productions of the 
authors’ imagination and used fictitiously.

Edited bySue-Ellen Gower.
Cover art bySyneca.


Warning:


The following material contains graphic sexual content meant for mature 
readers.Waiting For Dawnhas been rated E–rotic by a minimum of three independent 
reviewers.

Ellora’s Cave Publishing offers three levels of Romantica™ reading 
entertainment: S (S-ensuous), E (E-rotic), and X (X-treme).

S-ensuouslove scenes are explicit and leave nothing to the imagination.

E-roticlove scenes are explicit, leave nothing to the imagination, and are high 
in volume per the overall word count. In addition, some E-rated titles might 
contain fantasy material that some readers find objectionable, such as bondage, 
submission, same sex encounters, forced seductions, and so forth. E-ratedtitles 
are the most graphic titles we carry; it is common, for instance, for an author 
to use words such as “fucking”, “cock”, “pussy”, and such within their work of 
literature.

X-tremetitles differ from E-rated titles only in plot premise and 
storylineexecution. Unlike E-rated titles, stories designated with the letter X 
tend to contain controversial subject matter not for the faint of heart.


Sex Slaves:
Waiting For Dawn
Lorie O’Clare
Chapter One
 
The Whisky Room could be a good thing, and right now, Trent Dar thought it might 
be the best thing.
Nothing had gone right today.CommandCenter dodged every argument he’d applied to 
stop the Poltar Leap. This wasn’t their fight. It wasn’t well planned. It lacked 
order. No one cared about the safety of his crew. None of the fucking officials 
who ran this project gave a rat’s ass whether any of them came back alive or 
not. Dealing with them all day had him wishing he hadn’t agreed to rejoin the 
Gren military. Life had been better when he decided what battles to fight.
Stepping out of his glider onto the artificial surface of Molten, Poltar’s only 
moon, and its only remaining grasp at civilization, he pushed the button on his 
belt, adjusting the weight of his gravity shoes. The Whisky Room was housed in 
an isolated dome-shaped structure, common architecture on this moon where many 
Poltarians now lived after the Bortan had attacked. He stared at the large 
planet that hovered in the star-filled sky, blocking the view of most of the 
galaxy. In the morning he would tell his crew they were headed to the surface, 
entering the battle zone instead of going home. None of them would be pleased.
Yeah. The Whisky Room was definitely the best thing. A few hallucinogens and his 
headaches wouldn’t matter, at least for the night. Maybe a piece of ass, or two. 
He deserved some downtime.
Trent Dar had first learned of The Whisky Room during the war on his home 
planet, Greneen. Its reputation had spread across the Ryclox solar system during 
those days, and the place still held true to its name after all these years.
With this new mission pending, thoughts of returning home anytime soon were out 
of the question. No matter. Nothing and no one waited for him there. But his 
crew—he hardened his insides, refusing to allow emotions he seldom used to 
surface. They were trained warriors. They would do as he said.
Pushing the heavy door open to the club,Trent ascended the stairs, stopping at 
the top in the small foyer to endure the brief security clearance into the club. 
No criminals allowed. Plain and simple. The smallest mark on your record, and 
the doors wouldn’t open.
Trentplaced his hand over the red glowing surface, the security panel humming to 
life. In the next second the metal doors in front of him slid open silently. He 
smiled, little more than a twitch of his lips. Molten’s security wasn’t good 
enough to penetrate through his shielded past.
Heads turned immediately as he strolled into the dimly lit atmosphere. Couples 
leaned into each other on the booths along the wall, whispering over their 
drinks, their expressions worried when they looked at him. A local, dressed in 
the drab attire common to these people, leaned over the bar, grabbing the 
bartender’s attention and gesturing toward him.
Trent Dar moved with confident laziness, his body relaxed although his senses 
were on alert. A man at the end of the bar moved in front of a scantily dressed 
cocktail waitress, glaring at him as ifTrent had just said something out of 
line.
Their reaction to his presence wasn’t anything new. Trent Dar was a Gren. The 
entire solar system feared his people. He’d grown up with this reaction from 
strangers, people moving out of the way, huddling into corners and whispering. 
No one would approach him. No one would challenge him. His people were feared. 
Their militaristic nature and reputation for conquering anyone who challenged 
them, made his life simple. He could do what he wanted. No one would stand in 
his way.
It would take little effort to change his attire, not wear the long, black cloak 
common to his people. He could remove his Greneen uniform, shield himself from 
the fear his image brought. But he would still be First Commander Trent Dar, 
high official of the first house of Dar. The simplest of clothing wouldn’t 
change the fact that he was a trained killer, a warrior seasoned and in his 
prime.
He saw no reason to pretend to be something he wasn’t.
Ignoring the man at the end of the bar,Trent strolled through the mingling 
crowd, many of the recently freed sex slaves from Poltar lingering naked, or in 
the thin material imported from the planet Benox, working the people surrounding 
him. None of them approached him.
Not that he cared. The Poltarian sex slaves, from a planet recently destroyed in 
war, were small people, way too delicate to handle his sexual appetites. There 
were no Gren females in the place. He wouldn’t get laid tonight.
Several females from Benox, their bodies highly adorned with the colorful 
tattoos those people were known for, moved away from their table at the sight of 
him. He silently thanked them, taking one of the still warm seats.
He hadn’t been to The Whisky Room in quite a while, but the place hadn’t 
changed. A convenient hangout for all walks of life, provided you could get 
through the security clearance. The place still smelled of illegal activity and 
sex. Just because someone didn’t have a record, didn’t make them an upstanding 
citizen. All it meant was the people in there were smart enough not to get 
caught, or clever enough to cover their tracks if they had been caught.
Activity toward the back of the establishment captured his attention. Tables 
were pushed up against each other, creating a stage-like setting. Men and women 
moved over each other on these tables, fucking and sucking, getting off being 
watched, or simply enjoying a willing pussy for the night. Many men and women 
came in here, escaping the orders laid on them with their work, just as he had. 
The Whisky Room offered entertainment for everyone, whether it be voyeurism, 
one-on-one sex, gangbangs, or simple flirtations. It was easy to put the day 
behind you when you entered into this place.
After taking a minute to study the panel in front of him, he punched in his 
order for a stiff drink—he wouldn’t be flying anywhere tonight—and then relaxed 
in his seat.
There was commotion around him. He didn’t care. The hour was late and many 
already felt the effects of the mind-altering drugs mixed in with the drinks. 
The rich smell of the smoke from maljuana drifted through the air. Smoking that 
drug made people stupid. He ignored its sweet odor, keeping his eye on two women 
kneeling on the table at the end of the dark room, both making a meal out of a 
man’s cock.
An older cocktail waitress, seasoned at her job, with her ample breasts bulging 
forward, her nipples pierced with the trendy pale yellow Poltarian metal, 
brought him his drink.
“Don’t know why she’d be interested but the lady at the bar asked if you’d like 
company.” She set the tall glass down in front of him, bending close enough that 
he could smell the cheap perfume she’d splashed over her full fleshy mounds. 
“You want her, Gren?”
He didn’t bother to look up. The way she took her time straightening, she didn’t 
want him to look at her face anyway. Many women in the solar system found it 
exciting to risk their time with a Gren. But he wasn’t into hurting women. And 
the simple truth was most couldn’t endure the aggressiveness that got him off.
“I’m in no mood for company.” He waved her away, returning his attention to the 
people fornicating on the tables.
“Then why the fuck you in a bar?” she mumbled, walking away, leaving her sweet 
perfume lingering in the air around him.
Trenttook a long swallow of the drink he’d ordered, allowing its fumes to go to 
his head, fog some of the frustration of his day. Taking another drink, he 
entertained the thought of getting good and drunk, allowing himself the luxury 
of forgetting about the pending mission, if even for a few hours.
Maybe some of the former slaves in this place were trained to handle rough sex. 
He glanced around, taking in the women who weren’t tattooed—the easiest way to 
spot one of Poltar’s ex-slaves.
“The waitress said you didn’t want company.” A female pulled him out of his 
thoughts.
Trentwasn’t sure why he looked up, but he did. And for a moment, he wasn’t sure 
he could answer. Something stirred inside him, something carnal, an emotion that 
had hibernated for too long. The most captivating creature he’d ever laid eyes 
on stared down at him.
Without a word, she pulled out the seat next to him and sat down.
He didn’t speak but simply watched her movements. Dressed in black skin-tight 
leather, not from the Bosha herds off of Benox, but the softer, more durable 
leather from Greneen gave proof that she either had money, or knew someone who 
did. Taller than most women, she moved with grace, silently, simply staring at 
him for a moment, sizing him up before she slowly licked her lips.
Everything inside him hardened to stone.
“Well, I don’t give a rat’s ass what you want. You’re going to help me.”
Trentraised an eyebrow, watching as she leaned forward and crossed her arms. 
“And how am I going to do that?”
“You’re going to help me deliver a shipment.” Her lips were full and moist, 
barely moving when she spoke. Long hair, blacker than night, fanned her 
shoulders and fell over the rich curve of her breasts.
Trentstraightened, needing to get away from this woman. He turned his attention 
back to the tables, several men having now singled out one lady, fucking her 
while her cries of passion were lost with the thumping music coming through the 
computer system.
“I’m not for hire.”CommandCenter might beg to differ with that argument, another 
thought that didn’t appeal toTrent at the moment.
“When you do the Poltar Leap in the morning…” she paused, grabbing his 
attention. She ran her tongue over her lips. “Drop this bag off anywhere over 
Grok.”
She plopped a cloth bag down in front ofTrent , its contents making it bulge at 
the side. Without another word, she stood and walked away from his table, 
disappearing as she worked her way through those lingering around the bar.
Trentneeded to go after her. No one, absolutely no one, knew about the Poltar 
Leap. The plan had been devised only hours ago. And he’d been present in the 
council room when the decision to send their fighters over the planet, attacking 
the few remaining colonies of Bortan, had been devised. They would fly low 
enough to do serious damage to the despicable race that had destroyed Poltar, 
but risk being shot down in the process. Not to mention, with such high speed 
and quick attack, more than likely more than a few Poltarians would perish with 
the maneuver.
He glanced down at the cloth bag and then grabbed it, leaving the table to find 
the woman.
Before he was in arm’s reach, an overweight merchant, one of the many Molten 
seemed to be known for, grabbed the woman by her shoulder.Trent fought the urge 
to remove the fat stubby fingers from the narrow curve of her arm.
“Where is it?” the man hissed, forcibly turning the woman who almost towered 
over him. “You stole it, now give it back.”
“They are already destroyed,” she hissed in the merchant’s face, suddenly 
looking quite capable of taking care of herself.
She turned on the older man quickly, grabbing his meaty wrist with her hand when 
he tried to grab her cloth pack. Several strands of long black hair swayed over 
part of her face, the shadows accentuating her high cheekbones. But her dark 
eyes burned with a fireTrent noticed even in the dimly lit room. The woman had a 
temper, and wasn’t afraid to get mean when called for. He watched her, his 
insides burning with the desire to haul her off while the beautiful woman took 
on the angry merchant.
“You didn’t destroy them. They are worth millions. A thief like you would be 
looking for a bidder. Give them back or you’ll pay more than your life is 
worth.” He poked a stubby finger into her face, veins protruding on his neck 
with his outrage.
She didn’t hesitate but grabbed his finger, twisting it in her smaller hand. 
“You’re a fool. They are gone and there isn’t a damn thing you can do about it.”
“What?” The hefty merchant exploded, lunging toward her. “Destroying those chips 
won’t stop the metamorphosis. The Bortan will evolve and nothing we can do will 
change that.”
Several people around them stumbled, drinks suddenly spilling everywhere. The 
woman fell backward, although found her footing quickly and managed to slip out 
of the club amidst all of the confusion.
Trentslipped out into the night after her.
Chapter Two
 
Dawn Corl ran too fast in the artificial atmosphere. Her breath wouldn’t come to 
her, the sound of her heart pounding in her ears hitting her too hard to focus 
on her surroundings. But slowing down wasn’t an option. She’d just taken the 
biggest risk of her life, and it had worked.
At least she was pretty sure it had worked. Sitting down with that Gren had 
almost fucked up everything. Her mind had quit working. She thought she’d been 
around enough Gren for a lifetime not to be affected by them. He’d had the black 
unblinking eyes, the rich shiny black hair, the serious expression so typical of 
Gren. All traits of that race that shouldn’t affect her. She’d spent her life 
among them.
She hurried to her carrier, which would get her off of this moon. The sooner she 
put distance between herself and everything that had to do with this assignment, 
the better. And then maybe, finally, her father would accept her.
Her lungs burned when she sucked in too much air. The sharp pain distracted her 
from dwelling on her bastard heritage, her family shunning her, her father’s sad 
eyes. There wasn’t time to dwell on that.
It was bad enough that the Gren inside had imprinted his image on her mind’s 
eye. It was more than his impressive good looks. She knew who he was, knew of 
his rank, that he was of the first house of Dar. And she knew by the slight 
twitch in his jawbone when she mentioned knowing of the Poltarian leap that 
she’d struck a nerve. There was something else about him. Something dangerous 
that had excited her, made her wish she could have sat with him longer.
She sighed, slowing her pace while working her way through parked carriers. 
There was no time to dwell on the Gren, or her father. Beyond a shadow of doubt, 
both would be furious if they learned of the other’s existence. Both would have 
something to say about the other, and how she was handling the mission. There 
was no time for any man’s temper. Every second mattered right now.
Dawn slid her hand into her pants pocket and pulled out the flat card that 
unlocked her carrier. She didn’t look up when the door to The Whisky Club 
opened, its artificial light spreading across the dark surface of the moon. 
Shadows moved around her, but she forced herself not to pay attention to anyone 
else in the area.
Just get the hell out of there.
Strong fingers grabbed her shoulder. “Where are you going?”
Dawn’s heart about exploded in her chest. Instinctively, she jerked her shoulder 
away, turning, ready to attack, when the Gren looked down at her. Suddenly her 
mouth was too dry to speak. She fought to control her nerves, running her tongue 
over her lips to moisten them. Those intense black eyes followed the small 
movement.
“I’m leaving.” She turned from him, sliding the card into the carrier door so 
that it slid open.
She jumped into the carrier and shoved the card into the ignition slot. The 
motor rumbled to life but the Gren had his hands on her before she could shut 
the door, pulling her back out of the carrier. He stuffed the bag of chips that 
she’d left with him into her hands.
“You have explaining to do,” he told her, his voice offering no emotion—an 
annoying Gren characteristic.
“Sorry, darling, but there is no time.” She used most of her strength trying to 
pull free of his grasp.
Surprisingly, he didn’t fight to hold her to him, but instead pushed her back 
into the carrier. His strength sent her sliding over the driver’s seat. She 
found herself falling to the floor between her seat and the passenger seat when 
the Gren slid in, taking over the controls.
“You are right about there being no time,” he said, and then quickly began 
pushing buttons on her control panel.
“What are you doing?” she hissed, fighting to get to her knees.
There was no way she could push him out of her carrier. He was a large man, even 
for a Gren. Although his expression was masked, the determination in his gaze 
captured her attention, giving her pause when she would have chewed his ass for 
treating her this way.
“Programming your carrier to orbit the moon,” he said, without looking at her. 
“There isn’t a carrier out here that is slower than what you have here.”
He pushed several more buttons and then climbed back out of her carrier, 
grabbing her by the arm and pulling her out too. Dawn found herself sliding over 
the seat and struggling to maintain her balance when her feet hit the uneven 
moon surface.
The door to the carrier slid shut and the small spacecraft moved, taking to 
flight and leaving her behind. Her only means of getting off this forsaken moon 
had just left, unmanned, without her. Fury swarmed through her with the speed of 
a Gren storm.
Dawn turned, swinging before she gave it a thought. Her fist hit hard chest 
muscle, solid, impenetrable. A sting rushed through her hand.
“What have you done?” she almost whispered, her voice cracking from the emotion 
that was so un-Gren like. Her father would hate this trait in her.
Her carrier quickly disappeared into the darkness of space. She glanced briefly 
at Poltar, the large planet that the moon they were on orbited, and then looked 
down. There was nothing worse than feeling stranded, alone, and with the enemy 
closing in.
“There was no way you’d have escaped any of these carriers.” He looked over 
toward the Whisky Room and then grabbed her arm.
They disappeared among a row of gliders and carriers, military-assigned and 
privately owned. Shouts could be heard coming nearer, more than likely the 
merchant searching for her. Other carriers started, motors roaring to life, and 
then taking off.
Dawn’s heart pounded viciously in her chest, sweat making her clothes stick to 
her even though her outfit was designed to be climate-controlled. She didn’t 
have time to adjust the settings on her belt so she could cool off though. The 
Gren took long steps, pulling her along, moving too quickly for her to think of 
a good argument why he should let her go.
An explosion above the moon shocked her. She dodged instinctively, raising her 
arm over her head while she looked up at the suddenly lit sky.
“My carrier,” she guessed, watching the explosion of an aircraft shot out of the 
sky.
“Which you were almost in,” the Gren answered, feeling the need to point out 
that he’d just saved her life.
Several people approached them, and the Gren turned, pinning her next to one of 
the parked carriers. He grabbed her shoulder, forcing her to the ground. She 
went down on her knees, swallowing her protest when he pressed his body against 
her.
Dawn found her face pressed against his crotch, the length of his cock apparent 
against her cheek.
“It didn’t even make it past the artificial atmosphere of the dome,” someone 
said, the sound of their boots crunching on the ground as they approached.
Dawn couldn’t see a thing. The Gren blocked her with his body and she was sure 
if anyone were to look it would appear she was giving the man a blowjob. Her 
mouth suddenly was way too wet. If she swallowed he would feel the movement 
against his cock, which wasn’t fully aroused, but if he was completely soft, 
then he was very well-endowed.
She couldn’t remember herself ever being in a more compromising position. The 
only way she could keep her balance was to grab hold of his legs. Strong roped 
muscles made her fingers tingle as she touched his thighs, holding on to her 
balance while he continued to press his body against her.
“She’s her father’s bastard. Dawn Corl is no fool. That Gren blood of hers makes 
her sneakier than the average Poltarian sex slave.” It was the merchant, and 
he’d just announced who she was.
Dawn wondered what this Gren would do with that knowledge. It wouldn’t take too 
much for him to figure out that she was working under her family’s orders. She 
swallowed, feeling his cock shift when she moved her mouth. Her insides 
tightened, nerves mixing with sudden arousal. Now was not the time to feel 
anything toward this Gren. She knew nothing about him. His uniform showed his 
high rank, but that didn’t tell her a thing.
Footsteps neared them and slowed. The Gren’s hands moved to her head, his 
fingers tangling through her hair, brushing it over her face. She didn’t dare 
move.
“Keep on your way,” the Gren barked, a voice of authority.
“You saw that girl escape in that carrier?” The foolish merchant ignored the 
order.
“I wasn’t paying attention.” The Gren tightened his grip on her head, pushing 
his cock against her face.
Dawn didn’t dare move. She held on to his legs, feeling his thigh muscles hard 
and powerful against her palms. Her heart did a rapid beat and the urge to 
swallow hit her again. If she moved her mouth she wondered if she would make him 
hard.
What the fuck was she thinking?
Her main reason for being on this moon was to get rid of the Bortan chips that 
were the prototype to allow the race to look human. Their destruction and 
assimilation had to be stopped. Eliminating those chips would set the vile race 
back decades with their advancement. She knew there were a few Bortan already 
who had mastered disguising their metal flesh with skin so they could move among 
the other races and not be detected. But with the successful removal of the 
computer chips that held the necessary programs to assimilate their appearance, 
the Bortan wouldn’t advance in that area. She had succeeded in her mission, and 
that was all that mattered.
The next thing she had to figure out was how to get away from this Gren.
“You do appear a bit busy.” The other man with the merchant chuckled. “Sorry to 
interrupt.”
The Gren grunted, his grip tightening in her hair while he shifted his body, his 
cock growing, straining against his pants. His male scent rushed through her, a 
mixture of Greneen leather, soap, and something all man. Her heartbeat raced 
down through her, her pulse throbbing in her clit. She opened her mouth to suck 
in air, fill her lungs, clear her head. She was far from out of danger.
Her lips moved over his cock. There was no way to stop the act, he had her face 
pinned so closely to him. The length of his cock nearly doubled in size. It 
hardened and bulged through his pants.
A flush spread through her. Her pussy was suddenly more moist than her mouth. 
She hated the feelings that rushed through her, the urge to run her lips against 
his pants, feel his cock, learn its length.
She was out of her mind! The Gren had the chips. He knew who she was now, what 
house she came from. He had the power to expose her, ruin her hard work, and 
here she was wondering what it would be like to suck his cock.
As suddenly as he had pushed her to his knees, the Gren pulled her to her feet 
by her hair. For a minute her legs were wobbly. And all she could do was stare 
into those black eyes. She didn’t miss the lust that swarmed in his gaze while 
he looked down at her. Everything inside her stopped—her heart quit beating, she 
couldn’t breathe. All she could do was stare up at him, captivated by the 
aggression and passion that formed a hardness in his expression.
His stare was the cold glare of a warrior though, trained and quite capable of 
killing without thought. One didn’t make rank of first commander without gaining 
a reputation for being merciless. She knew how the Gren worked.
His hands were still in her hair, tangled through her black strands. He held her 
face, preventing her from looking away while he stared at her. She swore he tore 
through her thoughts.
Running her tongue over her lips, she wished he would let her go, but at the 
same time wondered what it would be like to kiss him.
This mission had made her insane.
“You are Dawn Corl.” The way he said her name, letting the two words roll off 
his tongue as one, made her melt inside.
“Yes,” she whispered, barely able to speak. “And you?”
“Trent Dar.” His hands slid from her hair.
He took his time touching her, stroking the side of her head with his hands 
before running his fingers over her shoulders. His touch was like electricity, 
sending her soul into flames.
He turned her, keeping her close to him, and walked through the row of carriers 
until they reached a military-issue Gren glider. The insignia on the side showed 
his rank and the mark of his house.
With a fluid movement he straddled the large machine and then pulled her to him, 
lifting her into the air and placing her on the seat in front of him. The way he 
manhandled her made it hard not to relax against his powerful chest. She hadn’t 
felt this aroused in a long time. His arms wrapped around her while he started 
the glider. The dome rose over them while the engine purred to life.
He didn’t say a word, but took to flight.
Dawn’s mind was racing.Trent Dar. She couldn’t believe it. His reputation went 
beyond that of a high-ranking Gren. He had helped keep the Bortan from taking 
over Benox. His military strategies were well-known and studied.
She swallowed hard, all too aware of everywhere his large body touched her. But 
her mind swarmed with the possibilities so that she didn’t focus on where they 
were going. Trent Dar hated the Bortan. What an awesome weapon he would be 
toward her cause. But what would it take to get him to work with her. And could 
she control such a powerful Gren in order to get him to do her bidding. The 
thought of taking him on had her heart racing with anticipation. She was sure 
going to give it her all.
Chapter Three
 
Trent Dar pulled up in front of Command Center. The outpost they had on this 
moon was small, but necessary as long as the Bortan were still on Poltar. He 
would be glad when, once and for all, the despicable half-man, half-machine race 
was confined to their own planet.
Pulling to a stop, he took a moment to inhale Dawn Corl’s scent. There was 
something exotic about her, her long narrow figure, slight muscle tone. She 
showed all the signs of a renegade, taught to fight and carry out missions that 
the military wouldn’t touch. Under most circumstance he would send her on her 
way, not wasting time with a female who was more than likely more trouble than 
she was worth.
“Where are we?” Dawn arched away from him, her instincts kicking in, breaking 
her from the fog of thoughts that had taken over.
Something about sitting so close to Trent Dar made it real difficult to think 
straight. “This is the military command center,” she answered her own question.
The dome slid over them and Dawn hopped off. Trent sensed her sudden 
nervousness. But it was this, or take her to his personal quarters. And being 
alone with her was probably not a good idea. Having her on her knees for that 
short time had sent a surge of need through him that still rumbled through his 
blood.
There was no reason to keep her in the dark why she was here. “You’re going to 
explain how you knew of the Poltar Leap, a plan organized behind closed doors 
just earlier today.”
“I don’t have time for this.” Dawn jumped off of the glider, hurrying away from 
him. “Thanks for saving my life.”
Trent grabbed her before she made it past the scope of artificial light that 
beamed off the building. “You just made time,” he told her.
The small muscles in her arm hardened under his touch. She turned on him, her 
silky black hair streaming over her shoulder while gray eyes looked up at him. 
The woman was only a few inches shorter than he was, as tall as a Gren female. 
And her black as night hair and noticeable strength gave indication she had Gren 
in her. But those gray eyes, pale like soft clouds that pooled with sensuality, 
made him think of anything other than interrogating her. She would be one hell 
of a wild fuck.
“Fine. But information is a two-way street. I don’t owe you shit for arranging 
for my carrier to be blown out of the sky.” She moved forward, taking an 
aggressive turn and walking past him toward the entrance of Command Center.
Letting him know she was in any way grateful for saving her life, and protecting 
her from that fat merchant, would be a sign of weakness. She wouldn’t let Trent 
Dar think that she needed him. He would be easier to convince him to help her 
with her cause if she showed him she was strong, organized, and capable of 
taking down the Bortan. Just thinking about them made her blood curdle.
Trent let go of her arm, placing his hand on her back when they stopped in front 
of the main doors. He didn’t trust her not to turn and try to bolt again. Not 
that she would make it that far. And he would give her enough intelligence to 
know that she couldn’t get away from him. Running his hand under the scanner, he 
allowed the sensors to identify him. The electronic eye recognized his DNA 
pattern and unlocked the main door to the building.
“I’m not asking for gratitude for saving your ass,” Trent told her while keeping 
his hand on her lower back, guiding her into the building. “You’ll tell me who 
told you about the Poltar Leap and then you can be on your way.”
She didn’t respond but walked silently next to him, her expression blank and 
relaxed. It was hard to take his eyes off of her. Never had he met a woman with 
such compelling features. Her long black hair, falling past her shoulders, so 
soft and silky yet thick, perfect to run his fingers through and grab on to her.
His cock shifted while he studied her, moving easily alongside her, studying 
this woman who had interrupted his evening. Her light gray eyes distracted him. 
She studied her surroundings as they moved down the hallway. He knew she 
digested all that she saw, took it to memory, searched for any information that 
would aid her in whatever mission she was intent on.
“This way,” he said, guiding her when the hallway split. “I won’t put you in 
front of an interrogation team, unless you don’t cooperate.”
There was fire in her gaze when she looked up at him. “I don’t take well to 
threats,” she told him, her voice a sultry whisper. “I have no intention of 
telling you a damned thing. You’re wasting your breath, Gren.”
Dawn turned her attention back to where they were headed, taking in the insides 
of Command Center. This was a small outpost, but nonetheless, Gren headquarters. 
Never would she be part of the Gren military. She wasn’t purebred Gren, and her 
last name was a joke. If the House of Corl knew she used it, they would shun her 
once again. Well, maybe not her father…but his wife would enjoy shunning her 
until the day she died.
“I don’t waste my time.” Trent Dar pulled her out of her thoughts, stopping in 
the hallway and pressing his hand against the lock to one of the doors.
It slid open silently, a dark office looming in front of her. His hand branded 
her back, sending fire rushing through her and making it more than a little 
difficult to concentrate. Such a powerful man, with so much rank and clout, he 
could do anything he wanted, and the thought had her entire body tingling.
“This is your office?” She had to stay cool. If he saw her hesitate, knew for a 
moment how much he distracted her, she would lose control of the situation—not 
that she had that much control to start with.
Trent let his gaze travel down Dawn as she walked into his office. He pressed 
the button on the wall, illuminating the room with light. “For now,” he said, 
distracted with the sway of her hips, the way the black leather pants displayed 
her long, willowy figure.
It would take such little effort to force her onto his desk, rid her of her 
clothes, and bury himself deep inside her. He inhaled slowly, knowing what 
mattered most was to find out if his mission had been jeopardized.
“Tell me how you know of the Poltar Leap.” He moved in closer to her, his blood 
pounding in his ears when she didn’t back away from him, showed no signs of 
submission.
She was ready to take him on. Crossing her arms, glaring at him with near 
boredom, she shook her head slowly. “Just like that. Give you names and I’m on 
my way.” She chuckled, amusement making her gray eyes glisten. “And what if 
there are no names to offer? What if I work by myself?”
“Then say so and explain how you gained the knowledge.” He moved even closer 
until he stood within inches of her, staring at her with those powerful-looking, 
non-blinking black eyes.
“I say so.” She didn’t dare look down, doing her best to match his stare, use 
her Gren blood, and keep her expression masked. “I learned of your mission by 
myself.”
There was no way she would reveal her partners to him. They trusted her, relied 
on her for protection. Each of them, working underground and navigating their 
way around the careful eye of Command Center, had bound them to each other. 
Revealing one name would reveal them all. Nothing would make her jeopardize all 
the work they’d done. Without them, the Bortan would win and take over the solar 
system.
Trent Dar watched her long eyelashes finally flutter over her soft gray eyes. 
She was lying, willing to take him on to protect those she worked with. If there 
was a leak within Command Center, which wouldn’t surprise him, he would learn 
who it was.
“You’re a fool,” he told her. “And a liar.”
He moved quickly, grabbing her by her arms and lifting her high enough to turn 
her around. Tossing her onto his desk, he pinned her quickly before she could 
turn and attack. He pressed his hand hard against her back, swatting her 
adorable ass when she struck out with her long legs.
“Shit!” she cried out, more stunned than hurt that he had just spanked her. For 
a moment she couldn’t think, the quick sting rushing through her like a bolt of 
electricity.
Fire burned in her cheeks. But the humiliation was underplayed by the flush of 
heat that flooded her system, making her pussy throb. His brute strength turned 
her on more than she ever would have imagined such an act doing. No man had ever 
rendered her helpless—and this Gren wouldn’t do it now.
Dawn squirmed underneath his grasp, fighting to free herself until he lowered 
his body over hers. Rock-hard chest muscles brushed over the side of her back 
when he brought his face dangerously near hers. It was all she could do to 
breathe as she stared into those impenetrable black eyes.
“Who was it who overheard that meeting today?” he asked, his voice a dangerous 
whisper.
“I did,” she told him, realizing he could sense her lying, so giving him the 
simple truth. She jeopardized no one but herself. “I was in this building today 
and listened while the plans were made.”
For a moment his body relaxed. He digested what she just told him, his gaze not 
faltering although his grip slackened. She didn’t miss the opportunity.
Bucking, she kicked him hard in the leg with the back of her boot. There would 
only be a second to react. Trent Dar adjusted his grip on her, but she had 
enough time to turn around, striking out with her fist, aiming for his face.
Fire burned in those black eyes, the only indication she would get that kicking 
him had affected him. He grabbed her fist before she could hit him and flung her 
across the room. She hit the wall hard, the breath flying out of her lungs from 
the impact. All she could do was turn before once again he’d pinned her, this 
time with his body pressing against hers with her back up against the wall.
“So you like it rough, do you?” he hissed, his tone so dangerous her heart 
missed a beat.
She forgot to breathe, the thought hitting her at that moment that being alone 
with this Gren might be more dangerous and life-threatening than being stuck in 
a room full of Bortan. Slowly she exhaled, but her heart raced so hard that she 
sucked in another breath.
“Whatever it takes,” she told him, knowing she would risk more if she showed 
signs of defeat, than if she stood up to him.
One of his legs pressed between hers, rubbing against the heat that already 
burned between her legs. He reached for one of her wrists, and then the other, 
and then pinned her hands against the wall on either side of her head. Leaning 
into her, his face inches above hers, his body pressed hard against hers. His 
cock had hardened into a rod of steel, grinding into her hipbone.
Dawn couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. Trent Dar was more dangerous as a man 
than any weapon he might harbor.
“I’m not sure you could handle what it might take.”
“And I doubt you would dare to try,” she taunted him. There wasn’t anything else 
she could do with his body holding her prisoner against the wall.
Not to mention the fire he’d ignited inside her. It was probably a damned good 
thing he’d immobilized her. The urge to lean into him, taste him, devour that 
carnal power that radiated from him, consumed her.
“Don’t ever doubt me,” he said and leaned his head down, sucking in her lower 
lip before he kissed her.
A gasp escaped her, everything about her softening for the briefest of moments 
when he tasted her. She wasn’t full-blooded Gren. Her urge to submit, to give 
him her body, made his cock throb with a fierceness no other woman had brought 
forth in him.
Yet she wasn’t exactly submitting. Her hands relaxed against his, her wrists 
sliding down slightly under his grasp. When she opened her mouth, her tongue 
meeting his, he realized the submissive side of her had disappeared. She did her 
best to lean into him, pressing her breasts against his chest, making him ache 
to rip her clothes from her body, explore what treasures she had.
With a small cry she turned her head from him, panting while her chest heaved up 
and down, her firm breasts smashed against him. He ached to run his hands down 
her arms, cup those breasts, knead them and feel their fullness.
“Submission is wrong,” she breathed.
He watched her, his intake of breath almost as sharp as hers. Ghosts surfaced, 
her private demons warring within her while emotion swirled in her beautiful 
gray eyes.
Dawn turned on him, pushing hard. He took a step backward, which surprised her. 
She ignored the wave of disappointment that he didn’t demand more of her.
“Entering a building without consent in order to spy is also wrong,” he told 
her, his voice deepening when he added, “and a crime.”
“Which is why I wouldn’t have sent anyone else to do it,” she answered honestly.
Her breathing had slowed although the slow rise and fall of her breasts still 
proved a distraction. Her black outfit hugged every curve, displaying her 
sensuality. But there was still plenty left to the imagination, and that 
distracted him.
Focusing on her willfulness, on the stubborn tilt of her head, on the passionate 
glow in her gray eyes, didn’t help him keep his mind where it should be. This 
woman had committed a crime and confessed to it. What he should do right now was 
press charges against her and be done with her.
“And why did you need to know what Command Center had planned?” he asked 
instead, knowing the only reason she would have eavesdropped on the meeting 
would be to gather that information.
The sudden beeping of his computer on his desk grabbed his attention. Reaching 
for Dawn, taking her arm, he pulled her around his desk and plopped her in the 
one chair his office housed. Trapping her with his body, he turned the screen so 
he could accept the transmission coming in. For something to be arriving this 
late in the evening, he doubted the message carried good news.
The Greneen symbol, an image of his home world with the black background, 
appeared on his screen. Dawn Corl leaned forward, attempting to look around him 
to see what it said.
“You know this is confidential,” he said, turning the screen away from her.
“So was the Poltar Leap,” she reminded him, showing her lack of remorse at 
breaking the law.
He ran his fingers over the flat keyboard, accepting the transmission and 
quickly changing it to print instead of audio. The message appeared in white 
letters in front of him.
“What is this?” he said out loud, although speaking to himself.
“What is it?” Dawn stood, again trying to see around him.
Tar-Kah, the elite investigative branch of Gren had sent the message. A warning 
had just been sent to them that the known fugitive, a Poltarian who had Greneen 
in her, had just stolen Bortan computer software. The Bortan officials demanded 
the return of their goods, the programs being housed in small chips. Failure to 
return the chips would result in the Bortan authorizing a full-scale search. The 
fugitive was believed to last be seen on Molten.
Another message followed, this one a personal message from the Tar-Kah asking 
Trent Dar to put his best men on this assignment and find the woman as quickly 
and quietly as possible. An image of Dawn Corl appeared on the screen in front 
of him.
Trent glanced at it briefly and then turned to stare into those soft gray eyes, 
full of questions. The message referred to her as Poltarian, which explained the 
gray eyes, yet she carried the house of Corl in her name, and looked very 
Greneen to him. The words of the merchant, who’d searched for her earlier, came 
to mind. Dawn Corl had a hell of a lot of explaining to do.
Chapter Four
 
“What is it?” Dawn asked again, sudden trepidation washing through her.
Trent Dar’s expression had hardened. Whatever his screen had shown him didn’t 
appeal to him at all. Instead of showing her he shut the system down, collapsing 
the screen and then moving around the desk.
“Let’s go,” he said, offering no explanation.
She followed him. Like there were any other options. What could she do? Refuse 
to leave with him and stay in his office? Getting out of Command Center sounded 
damned good to her. She’d spent enough time incognito in this place earlier 
today, tapping into their computers while posing as a low-ranking Greneen. It 
wasn’t the first time she’d donned a uniform that would never be hers, and 
managed her way around the Greneen military.
Trent led the way into the hall, glancing quickly to ensure no one was around. 
For whatever reason, he wanted to hear her story before he blindly turned her 
over to the officials. Already he had enough on her to lock her up. But he told 
himself that it had nothing to do with her alluring manner, the softness of her 
mouth, the way she’d kissed him. Curiosity bested him, and he knew his instincts 
seldom let him down. A large part of this story was a mystery. And he would be 
damned if he would turn this woman over to the Bortan before knowing exactly 
what was going on.
Their shoes clicked against the hard tiled floor, offering the only noise to 
break the silence that otherwise loomed around them. Something in the Gren had 
changed, an urgency now surrounding him where before he had seemed relaxed and 
confident. Dawn felt the odd sensation of walking alongside her commanding 
officer, having just received new orders that were of extreme importance. The 
only problem was that she didn’t have a clue what they were.
This time when they reached the branching of the hallway, he paused. She almost 
questioned him, wanting to know more about the transmission he’d received, 
sensing a pending doom surround her and wanting to believe she was safe by his 
side.
Trent held up his hand, silencing her when she would have spoken. The smallest 
of gestures, yet surrounded by an authority she found herself not questioning. 
She had no reason to trust him. She reminded herself of that simple fact. All 
she had wanted from him was an assured disposal of the Bortan chips. That was 
it. Beyond that she had no use for him. She repeated that like a mantra while 
standing silently next to him, listening to the faint noises in the quiet 
building.
Without warning, Trent turned around, placing his hand on her arm, and escorting 
her back the way they’d come. She glanced at him when he slipped a comm out of 
his shirt pocket and wrapped it around his ear, adjusting the mouthpiece.
“Creen,” he said quietly into his comm. “Go to the back side of Command Center. 
I’ll explain later. Meet me there now.”
He hurried his step, moving her alongside him fast enough that even with her 
long legs, she worked to match his pace. They reached an unmarked exit and Trent 
ran his hand over the panel, unlocking the door without alerting the alarm.
Stepping outside, the glow from the large planet looming over them in the sky, 
offering the only light, long shadows offered an eerie sensation. Dawn almost 
jumped when a glider came around the corner, slowing to a stop when it neared 
them.
A young Greneen, his black eyes large in the dark as he appraised her, lifted 
the dome of his glider, glancing from her to his superior officer.
“Take her to my place. Don’t speak to anyone, not even her. Then leave and 
forget you saw her.” Trent Dar spoke with such authority it didn’t surprise Dawn 
when the young soldier nodded solemnly, scooting forward to allow her space 
behind him on the glider.
“Your place?” she asked, questioning him.
“You won’t make it five minutes anywhere else on this manmade rock.” His words 
were harsh, leaving no room for argument.
And argue was exactly what she wanted to do. No one told her what to do. She 
hadn’t made it as far as she had trusting that many people. Life had taught her 
that the only person she could trust was herself.
Trent Dar turned, not expecting his command to be questioned, and disappeared 
back inside the building, the door shutting silently behind him. Left alone at 
the mercy of this young Greneen, she had no carrier, no way of escaping on her 
own. Maybe Trent Dar owed her just a bit of sanctuary, if that indeed was what 
he was offering. Silently she boarded the glider, holding on to the seat behind 
her as the dome lowered over the two of them, and the soldier, Creen, 
accelerated until the glider left the ground, following instructions and not 
saying a word to her.
Minutes later, Trent Dar moved with his usual calm manner through the building, 
leaving it like he would any other night. Except he’d already left the place 
once already that evening. No one questioned him, the guards on duty barely 
glancing his way when he made sure he walked where they would see him.
His thoughts were grossly distracted by Dawn Corl. Who was she? What was in the 
stuffed bag of computer chips that he still carried on him? Realizing harboring 
them made him an accomplice to her crime, and realizing further that she had 
intended to lure him into her sordid plot when dropping them at his table 
earlier, he was intent on learning more about her.
But that couldn’t be done at Command Center. He needed a computer that wasn’t 
monitored. It would take time to research this puzzle, and he didn’t want to 
worry about explaining his actions. And during the time it took to ensure he had 
all the answers he needed to satisfy him, Dawn Corl would stay put, waiting for 
him to determine what he would do with her.
Unfortunately, right now, what distracted him more than learning her plot, was 
learning her body. Kissing her had stirred something in him that had long been 
asleep. Mission after mission had kept his mind off women, had kept him sane. 
Until now. Now not knowing more about Dawn Corl would make him insane. She would 
explain herself to his satisfaction. There would be no question on that matter.
He wasn’t surprised to see there were no lights on when he pulled up in front of 
his assigned quarters. Rows of Gren housing, compliments of Command Center, 
lined the narrow street on the far side of the moon. This was a smaller dome 
than the other artificial domes on the manmade surface. Dim light and a thinner 
atmosphere made the area appear like their home planet. Ever since Greneen 
military moved in to keep the Bortan from taking over Poltar, this small, domed 
area had been deemed Gren Town. The place looked nothing like home.
Parking his glider, he eased off and sauntered toward his home. Dawn Corl was 
nowhere in sight. And at this hour, no one else appeared to be on the quiet 
street. Gren retired early, a people accustomed to keeping to themselves.
He placed his hand on the panel next to his door, allowing the scanner to 
acknowledge his DNA, and then stared into the darkness of his home after the 
door slid open. She shouldn’t have been able to get in without him. Something 
told him he shouldn’t underestimate her, though.
Tingles raced down his spine, his senses moving into high gear when he walked 
into his quiet home. Nothing was out of place. But she was in here. He didn’t 
see her—saw no sign of her—but something told him she hadn’t waited outside for 
him. And he gave her enough credit to not run off once dropped off at his house.
The slightest movement of shadows grabbed his attention, and he turned, pulling 
his laser at the same time. He stared into the soft gray eyes of Dawn Corl.
“Would you kill a Gren in cold blood?” she asked, her voice a sultry whisper.
“Some would say you are Poltarian,” he responded, lowering his small handheld 
weapon so that he focused on her neck instead of between her eyes.
“Some would,” she shrugged, not denying or confirming a thing.
“Yet you call yourself Gren.” If she used the Corl name without cause, he could 
arrest her for forgery alone. Gren law was clear.
“I am Dawn Corl. That isn’t a lie.” She met his gaze, those pools of gray not 
wavering. She either spoke the truth, or was a damned good liar.
He had the inclination to believe her, but didn’t doubt her ability to lie.
“I assume you have repaired any damage you did to my home in order to get in 
here.” Asking how she got into his home would have done no good. He doubted she 
would have told him.
The corner of her mouth lifted in a half smile at his comment. She turned away 
from his weapon, ignoring it, and walked into the darkness. He followed her, 
sheathing his laser in the small leather clasp that hooked to his belt. Her 
boots tapped on the tile in his kitchen when she walked through it.
“I was almost done,” she said, her back still to him, as she picked up the cover 
to the panel housed in the wall next to his back door.
He walked up behind her, looking over her shoulder, impressed more than angry 
that she had dismantled the security system to his house, let herself in, and 
almost had it put back together in such a short time.
“You have the skills of a criminal,” he whispered, fighting the urge to run his 
hands over her shoulders.
She turned on him, the flash of anger in her eyes noticeable even in the dark.
“I have the skills of a survivor,” she hissed. “I am no criminal.”
She turned back around just as quickly, her long black hair fanning down her 
back. He took a step back, more to admire the view of her backside, than to 
allow her room to finish. So tall and muscular, not overly done, shapely, a 
perfect woman. The way her black leather pants hugged her ass, accentuating her 
firm curves made his cock dance to life.
He growled in spite of himself, not feeling too comfortable with the thought 
that she could make him prance to life and he seemed unable to control it. 
Reaching to turn on the light, he noticed then the black bag laid open on his 
counter. A variety of tools, all Gren, lay spread out. Dawn finished her task 
and placed the tool in her hand with the others.
“It will work as it did before now,” she said, not looking up, but carefully 
wrapping the tools back up in the black bag then sliding them into her knapsack.
There was no reason to make issue of the quality of the military security 
system. Too many other things demanded immediate attention—and clarification.
“Come with me,” he instructed, leaving the kitchen where he spent such little 
time anyway.
If it bothered her that he led her to his bedroom, she gave no indication. He 
tapped the small lamp that offered the only light in the room, and entered as 
shadows cast across the walls.
Dawn entered behind him, taking in the simple yet elegant living quarters where 
the first commander slept at night. Glancing at his bed, she wondered how many 
women he’d fucked in it. Trent Dar didn’t look like the kind of man who would 
bring home any of the women she’d seen earlier in The Whisky Club. The bed was 
large, a dark mahogany bedspread stretched taut over it. The rest of the room 
was just as neat and orderly. On second glance, she wondered how much time he 
spent in the room. Everything was in such perfect order.
He moved around a solid wood desk. She ran her fingers over it, recognizing the 
military-issue furniture. The simple dresser, the bed frame—all of it Gren and 
functional. This desk, however, was more elegant, solid wood she guessed had 
been imported from Benox judging by its slightly darker texture than the rest of 
the furniture.
Trent tapped a button panel and a keyboard slid out from under a hidden panel 
while a monitor rose in front of them. He removed a small disk from his coat 
pocket and inserted it in the computer. In the next instant she stared at a 
picture of herself with a top priority message from Greneen. He had been ordered 
to search her out. The Bortan were searching for her and wanted her turned over 
immediately for theft of their computer chips.
She sucked in her breath, afraid to think why he had just shown her this.
Chapter Five
 
Trent removed the bag of computer chips she had dropped on his table earlier 
that night. He watched closely while the color faded from her face, her gray 
eyes growing pale while she nibbled on her lower lips.
“Explain to me why I shouldn’t turn you in.” Deep inside, he hoped it would be a 
damned good explanation.
Dawn dared to look into those black non-blinking eyes. Hair darker than a night 
sky bordered his hard features. So tall, so powerful-looking, so dominating. It 
was hard to think straight and stare into such raw power.
She puckered her lips, sucking in a breath, and forced herself to turn away from 
him. It wasn’t possible to stare at the official Gren message either. 
Desperation saturated through her when she realized her father might already 
know the Bortan sought her out. She couldn’t handle thinking how that would 
humiliate him. Too often he’d supported her, coming to see her and her mother 
while she was growing up. All she wanted was for him to see that his blood ran 
thick through her.
“Do as I asked. Drop the chips over Grok tomorrow. After that, turn me in if you 
wish. There is no reason for you to know anything that would dishonor you.” And 
if all went well, she would be long gone before he returned from the mission.
“I will decide what I know and don’t know.” He took a step toward her, watching 
her gray eyes open wide when she stepped backward.
He didn’t think she made the move consciously. The moment of surprise on her 
face that he would confront her passed. She narrowed her gaze on him, parting 
her lips as if to respond. But a small beeping, a comm in her pocket, stopped 
her. She looked down quickly, her black hair gliding over her shoulders, 
partially covering her face.
“Answer it,” he told her, guessing she would try and ignore the call in his 
presence.
It didn’t surprise him that she would have alliances. Who they were, and where 
they were would be very handy to know.
She grunted, grabbing the comm out of her pocket and hastily put it around her 
ear. “Yes,” she said simply.
Trent moved quickly, opening one of the drawers of his desk and grabbing the 
small speaker wire. He took her arm before she could stop him, and clamped the 
device to her comm, allowing him to hear the conversation too.
“Were you successful?” a male voice asked.
“That’s yet to be determined.” She glared at him, her lips pursed in anger while 
she struggled to free her arm. “I can’t talk right now.”
He gave her arm a small shake, pulling her closer to him. Her free hand pressed 
against his chest while she maintained her footing so she wouldn’t collapse into 
him. She continued to look up at him, her eyes wide and on fire, like an animal 
caught in a trap. His entire body hardened, the predator surfacing, aggressive 
emotions stirring that urged him to force her to talk, communicate with her 
accomplice, shed some light on this mission of hers.
“What’s wrong?” The male voice quivered, weakness, not the sign of a warrior. 
“We can’t continue this orbit for much longer. We’ll be detected. What should we 
do?”
Dawn squeezed her eyes shut, exhaling, her frustration apparent. Whoever she 
worked with didn’t possess half of her strength. And they were in a ship.
“Give me five minutes and I’ll be back with you.” Her body relaxed, her hand 
sliding slightly down his chest. She didn’t look up at him though, but lowered 
her tone instead. “And don’t worry. You’ll be okay.”
The transmission ended and she reached up, pulling the comm from her ear.
“Where is your ship?” Trent asked her, in no hurry to let her go. He moved his 
hand from her arm to the middle of her back, holding her to him. With his other 
hand, he cupped her chin, tilting her head back until she looked up at him.
“In orbit around Molten. I was supposed to join them when you arranged for my 
carrier to be shot out of the air.” Her tongue moved slowly over her lips, and 
she watched him follow the action, relaxing further, knowing she didn’t have his 
strength, and seducing him at this point might be her only way out of this mess. 
“If our mission isn’t successful, the Bortan will take over Poltar. If you die 
during the Poltar Leap tomorrow then we will all die. We’re relying on you. Only 
you can save Poltar.”
Trent ignored her babble, knowing she put on an act trying to distract his 
aggression. Playing submissive or helpless wasn’t something she did very well. 
He’d seen that about her already.
“All ships orbiting the moon are monitored. How is your ship not detected?”
“I’m sure it’s detected.” She shrugged, forgetting her helpless routine for the 
moment. Her body straightened, the knowing look in her soft gray eyes more 
alluring than when she’d batted them suggestively at him a moment ago. “Your 
sensors would see it as a Gren merchant ship and not give it a second look.”
Trent nodded. She was right. Ships from Greneen brought supplies in daily. As 
long as the ship showed a proper license, Command Center wouldn’t question the 
orbit. He still didn’t let go of her, though. Rubbing his thumb along her 
jawbone, he watched her watch him, try to figure him out, determine her best 
move of attack. He enjoyed seeing her mind at play through those eyes of hers. 
Intelligent and clever, and beautiful. She was getting to him. If he let her see 
that, she might win at whatever plot she’d set out to devise.
“And these computer chips? What are they?” His questions brought her hesitation.
Dawn was drowning in those deep black eyes. He wouldn’t let her go though. And 
he held her so damned close to that virile body of his that it was getting 
harder and harder to concentrate. More than anything she wanted to relax against 
him, reach up and run her fingers through that black, straight hair of his. The 
way it bordered his face, his dark eyes penetrating her, a fire had ignited 
watching him. Her insides simmered with desire, an ache to submit, the weaker 
side of her already burning with a passion to be taken.
He misread her hesitation. “You aren’t in a position to not trust me,” he told 
her, taking a firmer grip on her chin. “You have people on that ship who are 
waiting on you. Answer my questions or you won’t be contacting them again 
anytime soon.”
She sucked in a breath, parting her lips, her breasts swelling against her shirt 
at the way he handled her. His seduction methods would have her in trouble. For 
some reason, she doubted his threats. He wasn’t going to hurt her. And she had 
an odd feeling that he wouldn’t turn her in. But what he would do, what he was 
capable of, she had yet to ascertain. And she wouldn’t make the mistake of 
guessing.
Dawn decided to take a leap of faith. Having Trent Dar as an ally, if nothing 
else, and she wouldn’t deny the images in her mind of making him a lover, could 
prove invaluable.
“The Bortan have invented a program that will allow them to grow skin, human 
skin. Implanting those chips into their cyberbrains will allow them to appear 
human. No longer would we be able to distinguish Bortan by their metallic 
bodies. They would be able to hide themselves in our cultures.”
Trent let go of her, turning and leaving the bedroom. His touch had branded her 
chin, and she still felt his fingers there. Without thought, she ran her 
knuckles against her skin, feeling where his hand had just been. In that time he 
returned with the bag of computer chips that had been left in his kitchen. 
Sitting down at his desk, he opened the bag and pulled out several, studying 
them while they glistened in his hand under the lamplight.
“How did you discover this? I’ve heard nothing to the effect.” He didn’t look 
up, his broad shoulders stretching his shirt while corded muscles pressed 
against the fabric that stretched over shoulder blades and his broad back.
She enjoyed watching him devour the information, believing her, not questioning 
the validity of her statement but only where she’d gathered the information. She 
moved closer, leaning against the desk while she watched him.
“When the Bortan attacked Poltar, I was on their ship when they returned to 
their home planet, Bort.”
Trent stole his gaze from the chips. He looked up into her face, noting that she 
watched him intently. He wondered at her words. Very few went to Bort and left 
not assimilated into one of the half-man, half-machine race. The Bortan didn’t 
take prisoners. Dawn definitely had Gren in her. The transmission he’d been sent 
called her Poltarian. He saw no signs of Bortan in her. The mystery around her 
deepened in its own fog.
“Go on.” Let her talk herself out of her own mystery. He let his gaze travel 
down her thick black hair to her full ripe breasts. “Explain how you’re standing 
here in front of me with these Bortan chips.”
“I faked my own death, at least temporarily,” she said, sounding proud of the 
fact. “I never left their ship, but heard discussion of this prototype Bortan 
who could pass as human, move among the other races, assimilate without being 
noticed. When the Gren attacked the ship, they took me with them. I managed to 
take these with me before leaving the Bortan ship. But I doubted anyone would 
believe me. Not even my father…”
She stopped then, turning from him and walking across the room. She rubbed her 
face, looking down for a moment as if stifling ghosts she would rather him not 
see. Trent stood, not sure what she hid from him, but knowing she planned to 
keep some of the truth from him.
For now, he would allow her those secrets. She would share everything in time. 
Tonight, what he needed to know, was if any of this would affect the Poltar 
Leap. After his mission, he could take on the rest and make decisions at that 
time.
Trent stood, unable to keep his distance. For the moment, her defenses were 
down. Mentioning her father was her own demise. He could only guess the reasons 
why but didn’t dwell on that at the moment. Placing his hands on her shoulders, 
he turned her around slowly. There was an unmistakable sadness in her eyes when 
she looked up at him. It disappeared quickly, her confident defiance returning.
“The chips will not be destroyed,” he began.
“Yes. They will.” She shrugged his hands off of her shoulders, putting her own 
hands on her hips and glaring at him. “They can not continue to exist. You will 
release them with your bombs tomorrow during your mission.”
He almost smiled at her nerve of telling him what to do. “These are the chips 
that would actually be installed in the Bortan.”
She nodded but he continued. “And therefore the formula to create the chips…”
She pushed around him, speaking quickly. “It’s on one of these chips. I took all 
of them. I’m sure that is why the Bortan dared to contact the Gren. You know 
they’re scared of you, they would never take on the Gren.”
“Never say never,” he said, again coming up behind her.
Her enthusiasm, the fire that burned in her to right a wrong, take down the 
Bortan, excited him as much as her beauty.
She turned around, her long hair flying over her shoulder. But then leaned back 
against his desk when she realized how close she was. Her gaze hurried down the 
length of his body before returning to his face. He had no doubts that he 
distracted her as much as she did him.
“Never.” She defied him. “The Bortan will not take on the Gren. They are not 
stupid people. Look at the history. It speaks for itself. They attacked Poltar. 
A weak planet known for its sex slaves with no military, no defense. They 
attacked on the premise that they wanted the Poltarians to pay their tax. That 
attack was three years ago. What have they done since? Gone after Benox? You 
were a crucial factor in stopping the Bortan. You can stop them again.”
So it wasn’t coincidence that she’d singled him out, confronted him to dispose 
of the Bortan chips. She had done her research, known he’d been active in 
fighting the Bortan, and of his own free will, not under the command of Command 
Center.
“I helped a friend save his territory on Benox. If he’d been attacked only by 
King Sorale, I still would have gone to his aid.” He’d fought hard to help keep 
the Bortan off of Benox, and helped a good friend keep his power on that planet.
But that was a time gone by. Benox was secure, at least for the present. Joining 
the Gren military had seemed the right thing to do after that. Little had he 
known that his previous battles would become stuff studied in textbooks, 
obviously something Dawn had taken to memory.
“And now you have the opportunity to see more justice done,” she told him, not 
backing down. “Dispose of the chips, rid the Bortan of this knowledge.”
She made an attempt to reach behind her and grab the chips but he stopped her. 
Grabbing her hand he pinned it to her chest, the fullness of her breasts 
pressing against his fist. He could feel her heart racing, see the passion rush 
through her when her gray eyes darkened, not looking away from him. He stepped 
closer, trapping her against the desk, pressing his legs against hers.
“You are not in charge here,” he whispered, need flooding through him like it 
never had before.
He had to fuck her, to bury his cock deep inside her. His blood boiled while his 
cock sprung to life at the thought. Right now he didn’t want to focus on what 
fucking her might do, how it might bind her to him. The need that surged through 
him made him not want to focus on what was right, or wrong.
“And you do not tell me what to do,” she dared to spit back. “I come to you with 
a request, not to submit.”
He grabbed the back of her head, fisting her long hair between his fingers. 
Conversation would be moot at this point. He had a feeling she would argue with 
him until dawn. And he had no interest in doing that.
“Who do you submit to?” He wouldn’t press if she already had a man, that wasn’t 
his way. And as desperately as his cock pounded against his pants, he could 
force himself to ignore her if she were taken by someone else.
“I submit to no one.” She searched his face with her eyes, seeing that he 
respected loyalty. If she told him that she had a man in her life he would leave 
her alone. “I belong to no one, and that is how it will always be.”
Trent growled his response, gripping the back of her head, her hair tangling 
through his fingers. His mouth was hot when he pressed his lips to hers, 
devouring her with a kiss that had her insides melting. If the desk hadn’t been 
pressed against her ass she knew she would have slid to the floor in a puddle.
His mouth moved over hers, leaving a wet trail down her chin. He nibbled at her 
neck, the softness of his lips and tongue mixing with the prick of his teeth. 
She had heard the stories of how the Gren fucked, of the wild passion created 
during their lovemaking. Gren were aggressive, rough, releasing the emotions 
they kept in check in their warrior existence.
She hadn’t been raised among the race whose blood pounded through her. But she 
knew the submissive ways the females acted when fucking, and what she’d 
witnessed in her youth had never appealed to her. Untamable. That was what she’d 
been deemed. And the word suited her just fine.
Dawn gripped Trent’s shoulders, pushing against his massive frame. Instantly his 
grip on her tightened, bending her backward, his hands moving to slide her coat 
from her shoulders.
She pushed harder, digging her fingers into his flesh. Finally Trent looked up 
at her, the wild fire burning in his black eyes enough to soak her cunt.
“Don’t stop me,” he breathed, his voice raspy and full of emotion.
She smiled, licking her lips with enthusiasm. Her body cried out with an 
eagerness to take this man on, experience the raw carnal sex that he promised.
“No,” she whispered. “But I will control you.”
Something close to surprise changed his expression, momentarily taken aback by 
her words. She used that moment, gripping his shirt, pulling on it while she 
worked to raise it over his head.
Trent allowed her that. He could barely catch his breath as he lifted his arms, 
letting her pull his shirt from his body. No woman had ever tried to best him, 
take charge, especially when fucking. Dawn Corl was wild, and that thought made 
his blood boil, his cock dance with anticipation at what it would take to tame 
her.
She dropped his shirt to the ground, her mouth suddenly dry at the sight of him. 
Muscles corded under tanned skin. Dark hair curled over his chest, barely 
concealing the ripples of strength displayed before her.
“Incredible,” she breathed, running her hands over the coarse hair, devouring 
him with her eyes.
Leaning into him, she tasted his flesh, ran her tongue over his warm body, 
feeling his muscles twitch against her fingers. He tasted salty, the lingering 
smell of his clothing mixing with an aroma that could only be described as 
him—masculine and powerful. Never had she taken on a man with so much strength, 
with the ability to take what he wanted. Knowing he was stronger than she only 
excited her more.
Trent lifted her, picking her up as though she was as light as a feather. And 
she knew that she wasn’t. He turned her toward his bed and she half expected him 
to toss her on it and braced herself for the impact. Wanting to make sure she 
would bring him down with her, she wrapped her legs around his waist, holding 
onto him while she found his mouth, kissing him with the aggression he had just 
shown her.
Grabbing her by the waist, Trent pulled her from him, even though she fought to 
cling to him. When he placed her on his bed, she went to her knees. Her black 
hair was wild as it fell past her shoulders, those gray eyes on fire when she 
looked up at him. He reached for her shirt and pulled it from her, glorying in 
how she wore no undergarment, nothing to constrict her full breasts when they 
appeared before him.
Swollen and ripe, her nipples dark and puckered, he’d never seen a more 
beautiful sight. Her body was muscular, trim and fit. When she breathed, her 
ribs rippled under her flesh. She reached for his pants, her breasts pressing 
together when she brought her arms forward. Her gaze left his, intent on freeing 
his cock. He wasn’t sure he could handle her touch without exploding.
Her fingers were intent on her task. The way she brushed his skin, loosening his 
pants until she was able to free his cock, made it hard to concentrate.
Trent threw his head back when she took him in her hands. Blood rushed through 
him, boiling through his veins, settling in his cock when she wrapped her 
fingers around his shaft. He looked down again quickly when her tongue darted 
over him. Moist heat enveloped him, saturating his cock and then through his 
body. The room seemed to spin around him, all of his energy focused on what she 
was doing to him.
Grabbing her head, pulling her hair away from her face, he watched when she took 
him into her mouth. Her lips stretched around his shaft, while he drifted into 
her heat, feeling her tongue dart around him.
“Damn it, woman,” he groaned. No woman had ever performed the magic her mouth 
seemed capable of.
Stretching his fingers around her head, he plunged into her heat. Instead of 
trying to control him, she relaxed, allowing his shaft to feel the tightness of 
her throat. He would explode right there if he wasn’t careful.
Dawn’s mouth tingled when he pulled his large cock out. Gasping for air, she 
collapsed onto her back.
“No longer,” she said in between breaths. She needed him in her now.
He looked dangerous standing over her, his expression brooding while his black 
eyes watched her struggle with her jeans. He stroked his cock, his long fingers 
moving up and down its length. She slid her pants down her legs, kicking them to 
the side as the throbbing desire pulsated to her cunt.
“Fuck me, now,” she demanded, rubbing her fingers over her bald pussy. The heat 
between her legs seared her skin, moisture coating her fingers while she 
caressed her tender folds.
“Can you get pregnant?” he asked, looking down at her.
“No.” And it was no one’s business that she’d been surgically altered on the sex 
slave plantation where she was born and raised so that she could never have 
children.
She didn’t want to focus on the shame that she’d felt when told that because of 
her mixed heritage, it wouldn’t be wise to allow her to reproduce. None of that 
mattered now. She couldn’t change the past.
Trent climbed over her on his bed. His cock throbbed with an urgency that made 
him shake. Dawn lay under him, naked, the most beautiful creature he’d ever laid 
eyes on. For all purposes, she was Gren. Her muscular body, her long black hair, 
her aggressive nature. If it wasn’t for those compelling gray eyes that watched 
him, he would believe she was one of his own kind. But when he’d asked her if 
she could get pregnant, something had washed over her face, an emotion not 
readily identifiable. Her answer had been quick and sure, but his question had 
affected her.
If his cock didn’t weigh more than the rest of him at that moment, hanging heavy 
and eager next to her heat, he would have asked why his question bothered her. 
But she couldn’t create life, and for now, that was what mattered.
She reached for him, spreading her legs, the scent of her sex filling the air 
around them. Rich and musky, it intoxicated him, sending a fever through him 
that he wasn’t convinced fucking her once would extinguish. Adjusting his cock 
against her flesh, her moist heat saturating him, he closed his eyes, arching 
his neck as he tilted his head back and entered her.
Dawn cried out underneath him, wrapping her arms and legs around him as she 
encouraged him deeper inside her. He was too big, stretching her like no man had 
ever stretched her before. But her cum eased his entrance, soaking both of them 
when he began moving back and forth inside her.
Never had she thought she would enjoy sex like this. No one could have made her 
believe the act could be this incredible. With every stroke, he created a 
pressure inside her that built up like a volcano, threatening to erupt while the 
heat grew to dangerous levels throughout her.
His momentum grew. There was no way he could continue to move slowly. Her heat 
burned his very soul, consuming him with a madness that forced him forward. 
Faster, harder, he ravished her sweet pussy while burying himself deep inside 
her, easing back, and then thrusting again.
He felt her fingers dig into his flesh. Her groans grew louder, turning into 
cries of pleasure, egging him on, driving him harder. His next thrust sent her 
sliding up the bed.
“Gods!” she screamed, raking her fingernails over his shoulders, while her inner 
thighs clamped down hard against him. “Yes, shit yes!”
The fire between them burned out of control. She didn’t beg him to stop, didn’t 
tell him he was being too rough.
Trent gritted his teeth, squeezing his eyes shut as he slammed into her again 
and again. The bed squeaked underneath them, his powerful thrusts igniting her 
pussy as waves of pleasure arced through her. She held on with everything she 
had, feeling him penetrate her deeper than she knew possible. He broke her dam 
of lust, her orgasm hitting her so hard she couldn’t breathe.
“Trent,” she cried out, finally able to let go at the same time she could have 
sworn he doubled in size inside her, pulsing as he exploded and brought his own 
release.
For a moment she could only stare at him. Sweat beaded his forehead. His black 
hair fell in glistening strands around his face. His expression was flushed but 
when he opened his eyes, met her gaze, those powerful black orbs took her breath 
away. Possessive, carnal, satisfied. The predator had captured his prey.
Chapter Six
 
Her crewmates didn’t understand why she wasn’t returning to her ship. They were 
worried, scared. Staying in orbit this long hadn’t been the plan. And how could 
she guarantee their safety?
Dawn was tired, her body sore in more ways than one. She ached for a good 
night’s sleep but didn’t see how she would get one staying in Trent Dar’s home. 
Her options seemed limited, at least for the moment. He still had the Bortan 
chips. He’d told her she wasn’t going anywhere. And unless she wanted to try and 
steal his glider, she was stuck.
Trent lay spread out in his giant bed, all appearances showing him relaxed and 
sound asleep. She doubted either was true. His orders had been simple.
“Get some sleep,” he’d told her. “We’ll discuss these matters more tomorrow.”
But the Poltar Leap was tomorrow. What did he plan on doing with her while he 
was gone on his mission?
One thing focused clear in Dawn’s thoughts. She wanted to go with him. How she 
would pull that off she had no clue.
For the last five minutes or so she’d been pacing his living room, thinking, 
trying to stay awake. She sauntered back toward his bedroom door, staring at his 
dark figure relaxed in his bed. There was no way she could sleep next to him. 
After what he’d done to her, how he’d made her feel, how his cock had felt 
inside her, she doubted she would get a minute of sleep lying next to him.
Her option was his couch. She glanced back into the dark living area, quiet and 
in order. Trent hadn’t told her where to sleep, only to do so. She wished she 
knew if he really slept or not. She could take advantage of the moment and do a 
bit of exploring.
Her eyes burned, though. Every muscle in her body ached. And his computer was in 
his bedroom. So were the Bortan chips. Any investigating she did would be in 
this room. Trent Dar was no fool.
Sighing, she entered the bedroom, running her finger along the edge of the desk 
while she stared at the computer. The screen was dark, the keypad locked. It 
would take time and effort to figure out how to decode it.
“I told you to sleep,” Trent grunted, making her jump.
Making a face in frustration, she moved to the bed, deciding if she was going to 
sleep, she’d be comfortable doing it. Climbing in next to him, she stretched 
out. Within the next minute she was out, and slept through the night without the 
torment of dreams.
When she woke the next morning, Trent was gone. Damn it. She didn’t want to be 
left in his house all day while he was attacking the Bortan. If she couldn’t get 
back to her people, she could at least enjoy the action of the fight. Glancing 
around his room, she wondered if he’d taken the Bortan chips with him. Surely he 
would. No matter where she tried to search though, every drawer and cabinet was 
locked. If they were here, they were locked up securely. She took only a minute 
to wash herself in his bathroom. Grabbing the Gren uniform out of her backpack, 
she hurried to disable his alarm system so she could leave and follow him.
And she knew exactly where he would be. It took longer than she expected to 
decode his alarm system to the storage room behind his house, but she wasn’t 
disappointed. A carrier sat parked in the garage area, and with a little 
tampering, she had it started, and hurried back to Command Center.
Getting onto the grounds where the spacecraft waited to take Trent Dar’s crew to 
Poltar proved a little more tricky than she thought.
“Hey,” a guard yelled after her when she tried to walk with calm authority 
through the gated area. “This is a private mission.”
“Just following orders,” she told him, careful not to look up. Her only dead 
giveaway was her eyes.
Her heart pounded when the guard caught up with her, grabbing her arm. “And so 
am I. Commander Dar has already cleared his crew. What are you doing here?”
“Do you want me put on detention because I’m late?” she barked, praying he would 
back down. She fisted her hands at her side, adrenaline pumping through her, 
making her shake.
“Everyone has already been cleared. You aren’t supposed to be here.” The guard 
wouldn’t be swayed. “I don’t know what you are trying to pull, but your 
assignment isn’t to be on this mission.”
Well, damn him to the gods. Dawn looked around her quickly. Ahead of her were 
the ships that would run the Poltar Leap. Mechanics moved around them, taking 
care of last-minute inspections. The debriefing was probably taking place right 
now in the flat roofed buildings to the side of her. Large windows faced the 
open field. It was hard telling how many people could see them right now.
Sweat clung to her skin under her clothes. No temperature adjustment would make 
her feel comfortable right now as her nerves tingled, anxiety racing through 
her. She needed to decide quickly what to do, and then do it.
“What’s going on here?” Trent barked from behind her.
Dawn about jumped out of her skin. Where the hell had he appeared from?
She didn’t even get a chance to turn around. Strong fingers dug into her 
shoulders, pinning her where she stood.
“Commander Dar.” The guard saluted, the stiff Gren respect shown all superior 
officers.
“Return to your post.” Trent offered no further explanation, not needing to give 
one. His rank offered more privileges than most on this moon.
He forced her into an about-face then marched her toward the spacecrafts, 
letting go of her shoulders but leaving his imprint branded in her skin. The 
heat from his touch rushed through her.
“What?” she began.
“Silence.” He didn’t yell. His expression remained emotionless.
Trent let go of her and moved across the open area toward the waiting 
spaceships. For the most part they were ready to go, and his crew had already 
begun heading toward their ships. They had seen him walking and figured it was 
time to board. He would have preferred a few more debriefing minutes with them, 
but there hadn’t been a lot to say. He’d known none of them would be pleased 
with the assignment. But they would follow orders.
What annoyed him was Dawn. It hadn’t surprised him to see her here. But she’d 
just strutted on in, like she owned the place. For some reason he’d expected to 
see her pop up behind him after he’d been in flight. Maybe that had been her 
plan and she’d gotten busted. Damn woman.
Climbing aboard his ship, the steps tapped behind him as she followed. Anger 
filtered through him when his comm lit up. Explaining Dawn would be no easy 
matter, and he didn’t have the time or the desire to do so.
“Who is with you?” Captain Por Gree spoke with his usual calm manner.
Trent had situated himself in the chair of the small craft. Checking the 
settings, he flipped the switch so he could answer his captain.
“Her name is Dawn Corl. I’ll explain her to you when we return.” Trent flipped 
off the communication, not missing the raised eyebrow of Dawn’s astonished face 
while her gaze went from his to the control panel.
“I can help navigate. I’ve flown before,” she offered, deciding it best not to 
question why he’d spoken to his commanding officer that way.
“Secure yourself and be quiet.” If he didn’t keep his anger in check it would 
fog his thinking on this mission. And he had every intention of making this a 
quick and eventful trip.
To her credit, Dawn did as she was told, securing herself in the only other seat 
the small ship offered. Trent ignited the engines and then opened communication 
with the ships around him. Everyone was ready to get this over with.
They left the surface of the moon, the environmental domes opening to allow 
passage, and quickly entered the orbit of Poltar. The planet’s atmosphere was 
thin, hot from the two morning suns, and he adjusted the settings quickly so 
that their glare didn’t blind him.
“Missiles ready,” his second officer announced.
Trent pushed the buttons on his panel so that he could communicate with the two 
ships flying alongside him.
“The Bortan headquarters are targeted on screen,” another of his men announced.
Trent ignored Dawn when she leaned forward to see the navigational screen. Small 
lights, beeping to show their targets, appeared on the map image of the city of 
Grok. He angled his ship, lowering into the atmosphere, coming down on the 
unsuspecting people below.
His stomach tied into knots. On his command they would fire missiles, destroying 
the Bortan headquarters. The attack was unexpected and would be effective. 
Poltar would be rid of the nasty race that had destroyed it. It was too little 
and too late. Trent didn’t like any of this, and he despised those who had 
issued the orders.
But his arguments had been moot. The high command on his own planet supported 
the mission, seeing it as a strategically good move in showing the Bortan they 
would not succeed in securing Poltar as their own. The people on this planet had 
been through enough. Trent’s arguments had fallen on deaf ears.
“We have activity.” The excitement in his second commander’s voice showed only 
his youth, his inexperience with battle.
“Proceed as planned.” Trent hit several switches on his panel, getting a closer 
view of the city below.
“The Bortan know you are here.” Dawn had undone her security belts and moved in 
next to him, her voice ringing with excitement.
He growled, not needing her commentary to see the obvious. The Bortan shouldn’t 
be expecting them.
His officer to his right had decelerated, a sign of hesitation. The men he’d 
chosen to accompany him on this mission were well-trained, excellent officers, 
with impeccable records. Neither of them had a lot of battle time under their 
belts though. No simulation could match the intensity of the attack.
“I think they’re loading their ships. We might have a counterattack.” His other 
officer sounded more calm, a well-trained warrior.
Trent knew both of them were nervous though, their fingers hovering over the 
button to release all weapons. Dawn had stepped closer, her hand grazing over 
his shoulder, the action so slight, yet stirring the aggressive protector to 
life inside him. This mission could turn deadly.
“Resecure yourself in your seat,” he told her, not looking over his shoulder, 
not taking his attention from the panel in front of him.
Dawn turned quickly, unlatching the seat from the wall and sliding it next to 
his. She relatched it, securing it to the floor next to his, and then sat down.
“That’s not what I meant.” This time he did give her a side-glance, in time to 
see her undaunted expression as her gray eyes showed her enthusiasm for the 
fight.
This woman wasn’t a warrior. She had no training. But it was in her blood, in 
her nature. She was Gren, in spite of any other blood that trickled through her 
veins. And at the moment, she was stunningly beautiful.
He returned his attention to the panel, their presence over the city apparent 
now as they decreased elevation.
The first Bortan headquarters was almost underneath them. “On my command,” he 
said into his comm, moving his finger over the button that would release his 
missiles. “Fire,” he barked, and pressed the button.
Dawn sucked in her breath, bringing her hands together quietly as her face 
glowed with the excitement he sensed pumping through her. She despised the 
Bortan, one thing they had in common, and he could only guess at what nightmares 
they had offered her to spawn such hatred.
“Prepare missiles.” Trent wouldn’t offer time to glory in the buildings that had 
just been destroyed.
“Fire.” He spoke calmly this time, pressing the necessary button to release the 
second wave of missiles.
Dawn leaned forward, looking out the clear front of his ship to see the 
explosions on the ground.
“Damn the hells. Look.” She pointed outside, and then turned quickly, checking 
the readings on his panel. “We have company.”
“Aggressive maneuver closing in,” one of his men informed him through the comm.
“Brace for attack,” Trent told him, fully prepared for the Bortan to fire on 
them.
He’d briefed his men on this before leaving. A race didn’t annihilate another 
planet without the means to defend themselves. The Bortan would fight to keep 
their post on Poltar. He never expected this to be an easy mission.
With two of the standing buildings that housed the Bortan in this section of the 
planet wiped out, he anticipated the Poltar Leap to end soon, but they’d all 
known entering into this that the risks were high. All three of them returning 
alive would be a miracle.
And Trent didn’t buy into miracles.
An explosion rocked his ship.
“Woo-hoo!” Dawn cheered when the Bortan ship next to him blew up.
He heard the similar praise ring through his comm when his officer praised the 
other for accurate shooting.
“Load missiles.” They needed to stay focused. One more attack and he could steer 
them out of there.
The headquarters for the Bortan that lined Grok on the other side of the city 
spread out over the countryside. They were new buildings, built since the 
original attack of the Bortan and resembling more of their own native 
architecture than that of Poltar. The construction showed their satisfaction in 
taking over the planet, assimilating the culture to suit themselves.
Destroying all of the buildings meant the three ships needed to pan out. Trent 
punched in the new navigation plan for his ship. He watched the screen noting 
his men did the same. They spread out, preparing for the last attack.
“Communication is coming in from Grok,” one of his officers told him.
“We don’t respond until the mission is finished.” They couldn’t afford 
distractions at this point.
He moved his remaining missiles into place, preparing them to launch.
“On my signal,” he said, his finger damp against the button that would fire his 
weapons.
“There are more Bortan ships,” Dawn cried out, her hair flying around her when 
she turned quickly from her view outside the ship to focus on Trent. “Quick. You 
can shoot them down.”
He ignored her. That wasn’t the mission profile. And if she’d listened well 
enough when she eavesdropped on their initial briefing, she knew that.
“Fire,” he ordered, releasing his own missiles over the designated buildings 
below.
His ship launched to the side, moments after his missiles dispersed. At the same 
time, bright light blinded them as one of the ships to the side of him exploded 
over the city. He’d just lost one of his men. The mission however, in the eyes 
of the Gren superiors, had just been successful. Fire burned in his heart, his 
insides hardening in anger over the loss of a good warrior.
“Dar, get your ass out of there.” Por Gree spoke through his comm, the leader’s 
voice serious yet calm. “We’ll send in reinforcements to clean up the dirty 
work.”
Trent knew they hadn’t wanted him on this mission. His rank could have gotten 
him out of it. The chances of none of them making it back alive were high. And 
he’d just lost a good man. But Trent wouldn’t send anyone into a suicide attack 
without going in with them. It went against everything he believed. As much as 
anyone he wanted to see the Bortan wiped out, crushed back to their home planet 
if not destroyed completely. The mass destruction they had brought on this solar 
system was enough to justify wiping them out of existence. But no one did his 
dirty work for him.
He brought his ship around, ready to take on the Bortan remaining in the air.
“Dar, this is no time for heroics. We’ve just launched several more ships.” Gree 
sounded stern now. “Get out of there now. The few remaining Bortan will be 
handled by the cleanup crew.”
Trent ignored the order.
“Heroics is the whole reason you initiated this mission,” he breathed through 
his teeth, not caring that Por Gree knew his feelings about this assignment.
A more strategically planned mission could have wiped out the Bortan. The 
diplomats had argued that moving quickly would prevent leaks and show the 
Poltarian their good intent in bringing peace to their planet. Too little, too 
late, Trent thought. They should have attacked the Bortan long before now. He 
never had understood the minds of diplomats—these so-called peacemakers.
The Bortan fired, the missile zooming toward them no more than a blinding light 
before it exploded against his ship. The impact sent him flying. Dawn next to 
him was simply a blur as she was hurled out of her seat, hitting the wall before 
sliding to the floor in a heap of clothes and black hair. He forced himself to 
stand, hurrying to her side to put her into her seat restraints.
“Counterattack,” she hissed, almost sounding like she was giving him an order as 
her long hair streamed over her face. “Don’t worry about me.”
He managed to lift her under her shoulders and dump her in her seat before 
reaching the controls, focusing on his panel that showed where the Bortan ship 
was. He could have just as easily looked out the window of his ship.
“Target is lined up,” the officer on the remaining ship told him, letting him 
know he was ready to fire.
“Take him down,” Trent told him, watching as yet another Bortan ship approached 
them.
Again, communications from the ground came through his transmission. The 
officials of Grok had no means of defending themselves, their city barely 
maintaining its own under the influence of the Bortan. He couldn’t focus on 
their panicked voices right now.
Another explosion ripped through the air, the shockwaves lurching against his 
ship, tipping it.
“Hold on,” Trent yelled and at the same time the ship shook so furiously he had 
no doubts they’d been hit. And hard.
They needed to land, and quickly, their only recourse at this point being to get 
this thing on the ground, or crash. Flames shout out from behind them, and Dawn 
screamed something at him. He couldn’t tell what she said though over the sudden 
sound of wind tearing into the small ship from the gaping hole behind them.
He took them down quickly, strapping himself into his seat and hoping Dawn had 
the sense to do the same. The ground came up hard underneath them, jarring his 
teeth together from the impact.
With no time to waste, he grabbed the small extinguisher from underneath the 
panel and attacked the flames with the pungent-smelling gas that quickly put the 
flames out, but left the small ship filled with a gas that made it hard to 
breathe.
“Come on,” he said, grabbing Dawn’s hand and almost dragging her out of the 
ship.
All small crafts were equipped with two handheld Rodners, large guns pinned to 
the walls of the ship and capable of a fair amount of destruction when fired. 
The long silver weapons weren’t actually invented by Rodner, but when he 
presented them to King Sorale on Benox as a gift, the king had automatically 
deemed them Rodners. The name stuck.
He paused long enough to flip the latches, releasing the top Rodner. Dawn jumped 
to his side, releasing the bottom one just as quickly. It didn’t surprise him 
that she knew exactly how to take the Rodner from its housing. The woman had 
many hidden talents.
They were barely out of the ship, and Trent was looking around them, getting his 
bearings, when Dawn flipped her comm around her ear.
“Pahr,” she said calmly into the mouthpiece.
At the same time, his comm buzzed. He watched her, curious who this Pahr was, 
while wrapping his comm around his ear and adjusting the end to his mouth.
“Pahr, honey,” she said, in a much softer tone than he’d heard her use before. 
“You need to bring the ship down to Poltar. Lock in on my coordinates and then 
plot a course just south of here. I’ll come to you.”
Dawn watched Trent study her with those penetrating black eyes. His expression 
unnerved her, made it hard to concentrate. Danger loomed all around them. They 
needed to get the hell away from his ship before the Bortan attacked. Yet her 
body was distracted by the intensity of his gaze, predatory, dark and 
mysterious.
She did her best to focus on Pahr’s whining voice. “What’s wrong, Dawn? We’re 
all going to die, aren’t we?”
Having lived most of her life with spineless male sex slaves, Pahr’s reaction 
shouldn’t have bothered her. But after just a day with Trent, his dominating 
pompous attitude so alluring, she found Pahr quickly grating on her nerves.
“Do as I say. No one will die.”
Trent spoke to someone in his comm. She ached to know what was being said. What 
he did, how he handled matters, impressed her, her insides tightening when she 
forced herself to pay attention to her own conversation instead of wondering 
what made his expression suddenly so tense.
But she needed to get her ship down here. There was no way she would be left on 
Poltar again. This planet had nothing to offer her. She had people on her ship 
who relied on her, and wouldn’t make it without her. And more than likely, 
whoever came to rescue Trent, wouldn’t be as understanding as he had been with 
her. She wouldn’t be charged with some crime for trying to right the terrible 
wrong the Bortan had done.
Pahr fumbled through setting the coordinates. She wished he had more confidence 
in himself. But it simply wasn’t in his nature. He was spoiled and continually 
needed reassuring. Dawn stayed on line with him until she was assured they had 
plotted the safest course possible to bring the ship down, and then 
disconnected. All she could do now was get to the meeting spot, and pray she 
could get Trent to come with her.
And why did it matter so much to her whether he came along or not?
Because he still had the Bortan chips. Although in her heart, she knew they 
would never arrive in Bortan hands as long as he had them.
“Don’t worry about her,” Trent growled with a fierceness that Dawn hadn’t heard 
before. “Your Poltar Leap was successful. The Bortan headquarters are destroyed. 
Now your job is to focus on cleanup. I can take care of myself.”
Trent yanked the comm out of his ear, looking for a minute like he might crush 
it in his hands. Dawn guessed his commanding officer was upset with her presence 
in the mission. A heaviness hit her heart that she wasn’t expecting.
She’d seen that look before. Trent was frustrated with her being there, and now 
had to deal with her. It was the same look her father had given her when she’d 
gone to meet him. And she wasn’t sure she could deal with another man trying to 
figure out what to do with her now that he was stuck with her. The best thing to 
do was what she did with her father—leave.
Chapter Seven
 
The Grok security had moved in around Trent’s ship, hurrying passersby on their 
way, searching the sky with worried expressions, and eyeing the two of them with 
trepidation.
Trent said a few words to one of the security men, agreeing to have them move 
his ship. Amidst the confusion, Dawn managed to move away from Trent, knowing 
she needed to make her escape, start heading toward where she would meet her 
ship.
There was open land to cross, and in all black she was an easy target from the 
sky. But hopefully the Bortan would see the downed ship and focus on that. 
Although from the sound of it, many of the Bortan had been destroyed. She 
wouldn’t discredit the race though, a counterattack would be pending. She needed 
to get out of there.
The growing amount of security men watched her curiously when she moved to the 
edge of the group. She looked toward the end of the street, knowing undeveloped 
land lay past it. One of the security men said something to her, but she ignored 
him, turning from the street and hurrying toward the shadow of one of the few 
remaining buildings in the area. Countryside lay beyond.
Her heart raced when she reached the building, sweat clinging to her skin under 
her clothes. She sucked in a breath and blew it out, forcing herself to remain 
calm. Thinking straight was imperative right now. Focusing on Trent and what it 
would be like to remain by his side wouldn’t help her. None of it was real 
anyway. Her thoughts didn’t match the reality of the situation. She was a burden 
to Trent. That was the simple truth.
The dry, hot air on the planet didn’t lower in temperature that much in the 
shade. The two suns kept Poltar quite hot year round. Growing up here, Dawn was 
used to it. But right now, the heat aggravated her. Her insides recoiled, the 
urge to strike out, hit something, relieve some of her frustration, made her 
muscles ache as she clenched them.
And her emotions made no sense. Fucking Trent last night had simply been 
pleasure shared between consenting adults. She had no ties to him, or him to 
her. He hadn’t even wanted her on this mission. For that matter, he didn’t want 
or need her in his life.
She shook her head, brushing her hair over her shoulder with her hand while 
blowing out a breath. There was no reason to be angry. She’d brought all of this 
on to herself. The important thing was to stay focused on the big picture, the 
fact that the main headquarters of the Bortan on Poltar had just been destroyed. 
They didn’t have the prototype chips that would allow them to convert to human 
form. And she was on her way back to her ship.
Turning her gaze back to the wrecked ship, the security team working quickly to 
move it out of the way, a glider left the scene, headed her way.
Her heart lurched. Trent Dar drove up alongside her, looking outraged.
The dome slid over him, disappearing behind him and at the same time he reached 
out and grabbed her arm.
“Don’t ever run off on me,” he told her, yanking her hard enough that she lost 
her footing.
She grabbed on to him, stabilizing herself, but unable to stop him from lifting 
her easily and placing her not too gently, on the seat in front of him. Taking 
the Rodner from her hand, he slid it alongside the glider, next to his.
Suddenly he touched her everywhere, and if it wasn’t for the intense anger 
seeping from him, her arousal would have been uncontrollable. Nonetheless, her 
insides pranced with delight that he would come after her. No matter that he was 
mad. He wanted her with him.
“I need to get to my ship,” she told him, hoping he wouldn’t see how happy she 
was that he hadn’t let her get away.
“Where is it?” he asked, pulling him into her, his long legs pressing against 
hers on the seat while one arm protectively pulled her against him.
The dome covered them and he took off, quickly, flying fast enough to leave 
ground in less than a minute, although he flew low, staying close to the ground.
“They will be landing on the old Ryl plantation. It’s south of here.” She 
pointed in the general direction.
Trent seemed satisfied with her vague directions, veering in that direction, his 
body relaxing slightly around her. She wished she could say the same of hers. It 
seemed like he touched her everywhere. Her entire body tensed with awareness, a 
warmth traveling through her that had nothing to do with the blinding suns 
outside.
Heat scoured her skin along her legs where his muscular inner thighs touched 
her. One firm hand, with long fingers spreading over her skin, rested on her 
abdomen, dangerously close to the heat pulsing between her legs. Her backside 
leaned against his chest, firm and swollen with muscles that rippled against her 
skin. She knew if she relaxed any further against him he would feel the desire 
that raced through her like electric currents, turning her entire body into one 
massive pulsing nerve ending.
Her rear end pressed against his crotch, the length of his cock stretching 
against her ass. Memories of the night before distracted her. She needed to stay 
focused on what was going on around them. The glider he’d somehow obtained had 
no tracking equipment on it. The only way they would know if the Bortan were 
flying overhead was to look. And the suns made that a difficult task.
“Why did you run from me?” he whispered the words next to her ear, sending 
chills rippling through her.
Suddenly her mouth was almost too dry to speak. “I heard you talking on your 
comm,” she said, positive that she sounded stupid when her voice cracked.
Why in all the hells did she suddenly have a hard time talking to him? Sure, he 
was damned good-looking, and an awesome fuck but she needed to be more in 
control of herself. She’d known plenty of gorgeous men in her life.
“Don’t worry about Command Center. They don’t have the power to override my 
decisions.” Trent misinterpreted her reasons for running. He thought she feared 
he would get a reprimand because of her.
The sudden urge to tell her his feelings about the Gren military, to share with 
her his urge to leave the service, continue on his own as he had before, ran 
through his thoughts quickly. He had to put them to the side just as fast. 
Holding her to him was distraction enough, and they were far from being out of 
danger.
“Command Center doesn’t bother me. You had matters to deal with, and so do I.” 
There. That sounded better. She told herself that no matter how cold her words 
sounded, they would show him that she could take care of herself, that she 
wasn’t weak.
She ignored the small pang of regret that hushed through her when his body 
stiffened. And the heat that swelled inside her when his hand moved over her 
abdomen, brushing against her skin, igniting flames of desire between her legs 
was just that. It was physical. He was damned good in bed and it made sense that 
he would turn her on by touching her. That’s all it was.
“So you use me to get rid of the Bortan chips, and now you’re done.” His words 
were cold, his grip on her tightening, crushing her against the hardness of his 
shaft pressed against her ass.
She dared to look over her shoulder. But one look into those black eyes was a 
mistake. She drowned in his gaze, the intensity of how he looked at her, the 
predator, hard and aggressive—a deadly man by many standards.
She swallowed with effort. “I didn’t say that,” she managed to say, although she 
almost choked on her words. The desire to tell him she wanted to stay by his 
side wrapped around her like a drug, intoxicating, powerful. “My ship needs me.”
Trent Dar was not a man to play with. If she tried, she would lose.
A glisten of light caught her eye over his shoulder. Trent noticed her suddenly 
look away, look past him, her expression changing.
“Where is your ship?” he asked, glancing in the direction she looked, seeing the 
ships lowering over Grok.
Dawn pulled her comm out, adjusting it over her ear quickly. “Pahr, where in the 
hells are you?”
“There are Bortans everywhere.” Pahr was terrified.
Dawn knew this wasn’t something he was good at doing. She knew the poor man 
fought the urge to run under a table and hide. Seeing the Bortan flying over 
Grok, which was probably on his view screen right now, would have the man frozen 
in place with fear.
She forced herself to sound calm, running her hand over Trent’s, which still 
rested on her belly, before she’d realized what she’d done. Her heart skipped a 
beat and she straightened in her seat.
“I’ve told you before the Bortan can’t compete with our technology,” she 
reminded Pahr. “Bring the ship down. We are entering the Ryl Plantation now.”
“Okay, Dawn. I can’t wait to see you.” Pahr calmed down immediately, the 
reminder that the ship he was in was top-of-the-line helping his fragile nature.
And it should. She’d paid a small fortune for that ship, having used most of the 
money left on Ryl after the Bortan destroyed the place. In gaining her freedom, 
and obtaining an incredible amount of money, she’d paid the price of losing her 
home, and her mother.
“I can’t wait to see you too,” she told Pahr, and then ended the transmission.
“Well, you’ll be seeing him soon enough,” Trent said, a fire burning through him 
that he didn’t want to acknowledge.
It shouldn’t matter to him that she was excited to see some other guy. They’d 
had some great sex the night before, and she was a damned good fuck—one he 
wouldn’t mind doing again. But no matter her scruples, if she had a man, he 
would leave her alone.
He moved his hand off of her waist, immediately missing the warmth of her body. 
There was no time to miss what he’d never really had though. She wasn’t his 
woman. Turning, he accelerated the glider in the direction Dawn indicated while 
keeping an eye in the direction of Grok.
“Those are Gren ships,” he acknowledged, knowing they were securing the city. 
“Any Bortan left will be incarcerated before the night is out.”
“They should be killed,” Dawn muttered, the bitterness obvious in her voice.
She turned her attention toward Ryl. Her land spread out around them now. Plush 
and beautiful, or it had been at one time. Fires had destroyed the place, 
burning the countryside, and killing the many Bosha that had grazed these 
meadows. Now there was nothing. No slaves, no family, no one. An emptiness 
filled her as she caught sight of the ship that had landed ahead of them. The 
suns glistened off of its metal, blinding them.
“That’s it.” She should be more excited.
The safety of her ship meant she could get off of this planet. Away from the 
Bortan, away from the memories. That had been her plan. Finish this mission and 
then go to Greneen. She wouldn’t be welcome there, at least not by her father’s 
family. But he had offered her help in starting a new life there, starting over.
She wondered what Trent would be doing after all of this was over. Probably 
taking the next assignment that Command Center gave him. The emptiness in her 
became an aching throb in her gut.
Pulling out her comm, she told her crew to open the back hatch, allowing them to 
drive into the back port of her ship.
“Where’d you get this?” Trent asked after parking the glider in the holding bay 
of her ship.
“I bought it.” She didn’t have to tell him where she got the money. It wasn’t 
his business.
There had been plenty of cases of slaves suddenly showing up filthy rich, having 
cleaned out the drawers of their plantation after their owners had been killed. 
She didn’t blame any of them. They had to survive somehow.
“I’m so glad you’re back!” Pahr jumped out of the commander’s seat, hurrying to 
embrace Dawn.
Trent stood silently, watching the tall, muscular man hold Dawn affectionately. 
She made no qualms about returning the affection, holding him tight showing him 
that she’d missed Pahr too. Trent wanted to rip her out of the Poltarian’s arms.
“He’s been a crybaby the entire time you were gone.” Another man walked around 
from the control console, also Poltarian, and just as good-looking as Pahr.
Pahr pulled out of her arms, suddenly looking like he might cry. What the hell 
did a woman as strong as Dawn see in this wimp?
“Leave him alone,” she scolded the man, and then turned to Trent in time for him 
to see her smile. “Trent, this is Pahr, and this is Reen.”
The two men nodded at Trent, straightening, their expressions solemn. For the 
sake of the gods! Both of them had been sex slaves. He recognized the submissive 
expression they got when looking at him, as if waiting orders. No wonder this 
Pahr man was such a wimp. Trent would wager if he growled at them he would have 
them running to the corner. The thought rather amused him.
A young woman, also Poltarian by the looks of her long white hair falling past 
her shoulders and tattoo-covered bare arms, entered the room from a door off to 
the side. She swayed toward them, her small feet moving silently across the 
floor. She wore slippers on her feet, the way one of the wealthy of this planet 
dressed in the comfort of their homes.
“Dawn. It’s about time.” She grinned broadly and hurried into Dawn’s arms, 
hugging her as affectionately as the two men just had. “I couldn’t stand it that 
you were gone so long. Thank the gods you are okay.”
Again Dawn made introductions. “And this is Rayn,” she said, her arm still 
around the young woman when she spoke to Trent.
“He’s a Gren.” Rayn looked up at him with soft gray eyes, her bright tattoos 
adorning her skin, proof in the Poltarian society that she’d never been a slave.
Trent wondered at the hodge-podge of people staring at him. This wasn’t what 
he’d expected.
Dawn glanced up at Trent. His expression wasn’t readable, but those black eyes 
made her want to melt inside. He stood there so strong, his black clothing 
stretching taut over his muscular body. He was so beautiful, so perfect, that a 
lump swelled in her throat. He was worlds away from her, and she wished it were 
otherwise.
Turning, fearful emotions would rise that she didn’t want to deal with, she 
focused on the control panel, on the work that still lay around them.
“Are we monitoring Grok?” she asked, running her fingers over the buttons on the 
control panel that faced the windows toward the front of the ship.
“I set up the programs like you taught me.” Pahr moved to stand next to her, his 
hand running fondly down her back, smoothing her long silky black hair.
Trent watched the action. He moved in on the two of them, not liking the 
movement. If the Poltarian showed intimidation and moved out of the way, that 
wasn’t his problem. Pahr stepped to the side, standing next to Reen. The two men 
watched him, but he gave them no more than a glance before focusing on the 
control panel.
“This equipment is state of the art.” He recognized the monitoring program she 
had running as soon as she pulled it up. It was an intricate program, designed 
to track the locations of other ships and monitor life forms on the ground. Only 
the top-of-the-line ships had stuff like this.
“Yes. I know.” Dawn wondered if he would question how she got it. Granted her 
sellers weren’t who his military would buy from. But then his military wouldn’t 
give her the time of the day anyway.
Trent moved so that he could easily see over her shoulder, the lingering scent 
of his soap that she’d used that morning filling the air around her. He glanced 
down her backside, loving how her black pants hugged that sweet ass of hers. Her 
hair fanned around her shoulders, gliding down to the narrow of her back. He 
ached to grip those black locks, pull her out of the way, place her alongside 
him while he took over the controls. The urge to show her that he wanted her by 
him, to be his woman, hit him with such a strong blow it took his breath. No 
woman had ever moved him like this.
He pulled his attention from her when several blinking red lights started on the 
console.
“I know,” she said, as if reading his thoughts. Her fingers moved nimbly over 
the board. “The Bortan are trying a counterattack.”
“Trying is the keyword.” Trent had his fingers moving right along beside her, 
not caring if she proclaimed it her equipment. He’d used this level of 
technology before and wanted to see how successful the attack was. “Look there. 
We have men coming down now.”
“The Bortan don’t stand a chance.” Dawn looked up at her shipmates, smiling. “It 
won’t be long now before there are no more Bortan on Poltar.”
Rayn clapped her hands together. “Finally. We will be able to go home.”
Trent looked at the young Poltarian. Her smile met her eyes, her expression 
glowing at the thought that her home that probably didn’t exist any longer would 
soon be hers again. The tragedies of war, they came in all shapes and sizes. 
This young woman, so fragile and pretty, lived in denial.
“Rayn. Go find some of that Greneen tea. We would like some right now.” Dawn 
didn’t look at her, but moved around the control panel, pressing buttons on the 
wall to turn on several screens that were on the walls to either side of them. 
Images of Grok slowly came into focus. She ignored the Poltarian woman as she 
left through the door she entered, and focused on Trent. “We have images of both 
sides of the city here. Monitoring to the south and to the north, we will know 
how long we are safe here. And we could monitor Gren transmissions as well to 
determine if more Bortan ships are headed to Poltar.”
She was telling him they had the capability of tapping into military 
communications, spying on them. It was an illegal maneuver, but one that would 
assure their safety. He had no doubts she would perform the function if he 
wasn’t there. But with him present, there was no way she would authorize the 
transmission. At least she didn’t play him for an idiot and try to pull off the 
stunt under his nose.
“Do it.” He nodded, not taking his eyes off of her when she gestured to one of 
her men.
“Pahr. Set up the communication override. I want to know everything going on 
around this planet.” Her expression was calm, but she stood tall, all muscles 
tight, her body firm.
She was a natural commander, in charge of a ship full of weaklings who wouldn’t 
make it a second without her. One thing he knew beyond a shadow of doubt, none 
of these people had asked her to obtain those Bortan chips. He wondered how 
she’d obtained them.
Pahr moved to a side panel, while Reen moved closer to Dawn, eyeing Trent out of 
the corner of his eye nervously.
“Is he staying with us?” he whispered, although loud enough for Trent to hear. 
“I could convert the lounge, make up a bed.”
Dawn stroked his cheek, smiling fondly. Trent felt his muscles harden again. He 
watched the intimate action, and couldn’t help wonder if she had sex with these 
two. After all, they had been sex slaves. He guessed they had all lived on the 
same plantation together. He didn’t know yet what part on that plantation Dawn 
had played, but imagining her as a sex slave just didn’t work in his mind. She 
wouldn’t have taken orders from anyone.
“Why don’t we see if Rayn needs any help,” she told Reen. Turning to Trent her 
smile faded, the look of a warrior returning. “I’ll be back in a minute,” she 
told him, then turned and left the control room.
He focused his attention on the programs running, making himself at home and 
channeling in to listen to several different communications. Too much time 
passed and Dawn didn’t return. Something was wrong. He decided it was time to 
explore the rest of her ship.
Chapter Eight
 
The second sun had almost set when Dawn left her ship and walked across the 
familiar land toward where her home had once stood. She didn’t doubt that she 
might not walk this way again. Poltar had nothing to offer her anymore. But if 
just for tonight, just this one last time, she would see her mother.
The calm of the night didn’t soothe her. New plants had started to grow after 
the terrible fires, but the home she’d grown up on no longer existed. She moved 
silently, walking across the field toward the remnants of the large home where 
she’d grown up. For a minute, in the fading light of the suns, she stared at the 
foundation that still stood.
Once it had been a magnificent home, full of life and parties. Prosperous times 
and shrewd deals had kept the beautiful home lively. Now the remnants of a stone 
foundation were all that was left.
Dawn trod over the rocky ground, moving to the unmarked grave where she’d buried 
her mother. Even in the dim light, she knew where to go. Before reaching the 
remains of her home, she paused, staring down at the small rocks that marked the 
shallow graves, graves she had dug herself after the deaths of her family.
She squatted down, brushing the dirt from one of the rocks that formed the small 
cemetery she’d created when she put her family to rest after they were killed by 
the Bortan.
“It’s done, Mama,” she said, a lump forming in her throat while her heart 
constricted. “I told you I would see to it that no Bortan walked across the land 
where you rested. I really think you would be proud of me. There was no way I 
could ever be the sex slave that you were, but now, you should see, I’m making 
something of myself.”
Dawn sighed, unable to stop the tears. She stared up at the pale sky, darkening 
as the suns faded beyond the horizon. She wasn’t sure if her mom would be proud 
of her or not. Too many times she’d seen the gaze of disapproval when she’d 
stood up to their master, refusing to submit, taking her punishment with her 
head held high. She let the tears stream down her cheek, returning her attention 
to her mother’s grave.
“It’s a different world now, Mom.” And it was one her mother never would have 
fit into. “There are no more slaves, no more masters. I’m happy now, Mom. I want 
you to know that.”
Her heart weighed heavy in her chest. But there were things she needed her Mom 
to know, and knew saying them now would clear her conscience. No one would hear. 
And she could only hope that somehow her mother would know what her thoughts 
were.
“I’ve talked to Zahn Corl. I know you wanted me to know who my father was.” Her 
voice caught in her throat. Mentioning the man’s name her master had forbidden 
her to meet on Ryl land somehow affected her. She stood, straightening her 
shirt, staring down at her mother’s grave. She no longer answered to the master 
of Ryl, and wouldn’t let voicing her thoughts here intimidate her. “He was 
really happy to know me. You would have been proud. I can’t say the same of his 
wife.” Dawn let out a chuckle, relaxing a bit, the land around her no longer 
holding the power over her that it once had. “But he will help me, Mom. You 
don’t have anything to worry about.”
A crack behind her alerted her. Dawn whirled around, pulling her laser, and 
pointed it straight at Trent Dar.
He couldn’t believe what he’d just heard.
Dawn stared into those black eyes, glowing brightly while his raven hair fell 
around his face. His body straightened, muscles swelling under his shirt as he 
stared at her.
“What are you doing out here all by yourself?” he asked, ignoring the laser 
pointed at his face and moving closer to her.
He didn’t doubt her ability to kill, not for a second, but she wouldn’t shoot 
him.
“If I’d needed an escort, I would have asked for one,” she told him, not 
lowering her gun.
Trent moved quickly, deciding a lesson needed to be taught. He lunged at her, 
taking her laser before she had time to react, and pinning her arm behind her 
back. He wrapped his arm around her, cupping her chin and forcing her head up so 
that she would look at him.
“Don’t ever assume you can take down your opponent single-handed. You don’t have 
the training,” he whispered against her face, watching those gray eyes turn icy 
with fury.
She bent over, or tried to, fighting to free herself from his grip. And he’d 
give her credit for putting up a fair fight. She managed to knock him off 
balance once, struggling, as she went down on all fours to get free. But he 
grabbed her leg, sliding her along the ground, until he was able to flip her to 
her back and land on top of her.
“If I hadn’t recognized you, I would have shot you on sight,” she told him, her 
breathing coming heavily, causing her breasts to rise and fall quickly while her 
long black hair spread around her on the ground.
He adjusted his body, moving his legs between hers, forcing her legs apart. The 
fire in her gaze no longer came from fury, although he credited the darker hints 
of gray prancing around her irises to stubbornness.
“I’m sure you would have.” He loved the spirit that sang through her, gave her 
strength, made her defiant. “And then I’d be dead right now instead of on top of 
you, aching to fuck you.”
She made another attempt to free herself although he doubted she used half of 
her strength. “It doesn’t look like there’s a lot I can do to stop you,” she 
told him, her tone softening, turning sultry, a slight tilt of her mouth proof 
that she was amused.
Trent moved to lean on one elbow, stroking her black strands away from her face 
with one finger. Their silky texture inspired him to run his hands over her 
head, revel in how soft and feminine she could seem, yet capable of fighting in 
battle at the same time.
Dawn ached to lift her head and claim his mouth. The way he looked at her, 
stroked her skin with his rough fingers, a fire burned out of control inside her 
that only he could put out.
But she couldn’t let him see her as weak, incapable of defending herself simply 
because she’d been raised a slave. She wasn’t sure what he’d overheard. But no 
matter, he would see her as she was today, not for what she was brought up to 
be. And there was only one way to teach a warrior a thing or two.
His body had relaxed over hers, his cock throbbing hard against her pelvic area. 
He was so incredibly hard, and not just his shaft but his entire body. Muscles 
that could have been chiseled from rock stretched the length of his shirt, 
turning her insides to molten lava. No man had ever displayed such male 
perfection as Trent Dar did.
But he needed to be taught a lesson, to be shown that she wasn’t some piece of 
ass for the taking. He’d seen the sex slaves who relied on her, overheard her 
talking to her mother’s grave. All of that could be interpreted as weakness in 
her, and she wouldn’t have him seeing her that way.
Just when she was sure he would lower his mouth to take hers, she moved quickly, 
catching him off-guard. Shoving him off of her, she rolled quickly to the side.
This time she made it to her feet. She flung her hair over her shoulder, moving 
it quickly out of her way, and positioned herself quickly for his impact.
“You will never take me without asking,” she hissed at him.
The fire that raged from his eyes just about made her cum.
“Every inch of you is asking for it,” he said while a slow grin appeared on his 
face.
She fought to control her breathing. He’d have her panting with need if he kept 
staring at her that way.
“But you aren’t asking, you’re taking,” she told him.
Her body shook with anticipation, with excitement, when she made a show of 
turning around, turning her back to him, tossing her hair over her shoulder with 
an indifferent air. The muscles in her legs quivered, a thrill running through 
her that was hard to contain. It was hard to concentrate on her mother’s grave, 
as she glanced quickly down at it, with her mind racing over the possibilities 
as to what Trent might do next.
He was behind her instantly, not touching her but matching her pace, shadowing 
her while every nerve ending in her body about rippled to the point of 
overloading.
“So that is what you want.” His deep baritone sent shivers over her skin. “You 
want a docile sex slave like the ones you have on your ship. Do they bow to you, 
putting out when you demand sex, and striving to please you in whatever manner 
suits you that night?”
She dared to turn around, to face him head on, to stare into those incredible 
eyes. This man would never submit to anyone.
“And what if it is?” she asked, darting her tongue over her lips nervously.
Once again she fought to keep her breath steady, to keep from out and out 
panting in front of this magnificent man.
“Then you don’t want me.” And he knew that she did.
Trent saw the lust swarming through her, the way her breath came quickly. She 
wasn’t running from him but taking him on. He hoped she knew what she was 
stirring to life in him. Because he was about ready to conquer, and take what he 
would have as his own.
Dawn poked her finger into his chest, her heart racing so hard she prayed she 
wouldn’t stagger into him. Need raced through her like laser fire.
“If you want something, you will learn to ask for it.” If he noticed how her 
finger shook, desire making every muscle in her body quiver, he would win this 
battle.
“Ask for it?” Once again he moved before she could react, wrapping his arm 
around her, pulling her to him, crushing her breasts against his chest.
“Is that what you want?” With his free hand he gripped her shirt, forcing it up 
until her full ripe breasts appeared. He took one in his hand, kneading it until 
her nipple puckered fiercely, begging him to suck and lick. “Do you want a 
docile man who will jump when you say boo?”
He leaned into her, enjoying how her breath came in pants, how her gray eyes 
were wide as she stared up at him. “Do you want a man you can control?” he asked 
her, lowering his mouth to her nipple.
She cried out when he sucked her into his mouth, circling the puckered skin with 
his tongue. Her fingers dug into his flesh, gripping hold of him while he leaned 
her backward, holding her securely to him.
“I don’t think that kind of man appeals to you,” he told her, his mouth full of 
tit while his free hand moved down between her legs. The heat soaking through 
her pants about undid him. “Babe. You are on fire.”
“I know,” she moaned, knowing he’d won this battle.
All that mattered at this point was that he soothed the ache that his defiant 
words had brought on. The thought of breaking him in, teaching him a thing or 
two, turned her on as much as what he was doing to her body right now. She had a 
feeling it might take a while to do it though. But for the moment, all she 
wanted was for him to fuck her. She would worry about the rest later.
“Tell me what you want,” he whispered hoarsely, about to explode if he didn’t 
fuck her soon.
Dawn pushed against him, moving him to arm’s length. The night air gripped her 
moist nipple, sending chills rushing through her. There wasn’t much time. 
Remaining out here for an extended time wouldn’t be wise. Stray Bortan would 
just love stumbling on the two of them. And although she didn’t doubt their 
ability to defend themselves, she didn’t want the interruption.
She took hold of his pants, tugging on them until the top button came free. “Now 
this is interesting,” she teased him, watching a dark glaze appear over his 
eyes. “Maybe you do want to be told what to do, if you want me to tell you what 
I want.”
Trent growled, grabbing her pants and undoing them with enough speed to make her 
knees weak. He forced them down her legs and then turned her around, pushing on 
her just enough to let her know he wanted her on the ground.
She didn’t fight him this time. Her pussy burned with too much need. Going down 
on her knees, she bared her ass to him. His hands were on her instantly, 
spreading her sensitive flesh, his fingers gliding into her moist heat until she 
thought she might scream out.
“Damn it, woman.” His cock throbbed so brutally inside him that he couldn’t 
think straight. No matter how he tried to gain her submission, she came back at 
him with defiance.
Even now, with her on her hands and knees, her pussy and ass exposed to him, 
ready for him to fuck, he knew she hadn’t given in to him. He kneeled behind 
her, freeing his cock and pressing it against her soft flesh. It found the 
source of her heat and all he could do was thrust inside.
Another time he would make her scream with need. But right now, outside where 
danger lurked all too close, he would simply enjoy her sweet treasure. After 
all, she could have fought him more, she could have outright refused him. But 
one thing he knew, as he buried himself deep inside her, Dawn wanted him. And 
damn it to all of the hells if he didn’t want this woman more than any other 
he’d ever known.
Dawn bit her lip, fighting not to cry out, to draw attention to them. His cock 
was so thick, so hard as it glided deep inside her. He built up the momentum 
quickly, gripping her ass while he began pounding her cunt, tearing into her as 
he plunged inside her again and again.
Trent stretched her soft ass, allowing him the glorious view of watching his 
cock glide in and out of her soaked cunt. Pressure built inside him, his cock 
burning as blood pumped through him, filling his shaft. The urge to cum overtook 
him. He held on to her tightly, grinding his teeth as he looked up at the sky, 
fighting the urge to howl when he exploded inside her.
“Trent,” she whimpered, collapsing underneath him as her own orgasm rippled 
through her. “You’re incredible,” she added, barely whispering as she welcomed 
the coolness of the ground.
Chapter Nine
 
An hour after returning to Dawn’s ship, they had exhausted all resources in 
learning what they could about the Poltar Leap, and its success. Trent was more 
than impressed with the technology she had running there.
Her three shipmates looked to her for guidance in everything, and she was more 
than patient with them, revealing a gentle, nurturing side to her. Dawn had 
dismissed her three shipmates, commenting that they should prepare a nice 
celebratory meal for all of them. He watched her backside as she moved to one of 
the side chairs and focused on a communications panel.
“Are you contacting your partners concerning the Bortan chips?” he asked her, 
moving behind her in time to see her punch in the coordinates to open a 
transmission.
“I have no partners.” She didn’t hide what she was doing from him, but sent the 
request to open communications before he could see the transmission numbers. “Is 
that why you’re lingering here, instead of returning to Molten? You still have 
the chips. I’m curious what keeps you here.”
“I won’t insult your intelligence with an answer to that,” he said quietly.
Chills rushed through her. He wasn’t possibly still here because of her. It was 
wishful thinking on her part, but she wouldn’t allow herself to be played the 
fool. Trent Dar was a warrior, an incredible soldier. He didn’t have all of the 
answers concerning the chips. And she had no intention of sharing them with him.
She had to keep the shield up around her heart, not allow his incredible good 
looks, or his aggressive nature to get the better of her. His appeal was simply 
because he was so much more man than any she had ever known. She doubted her 
feelings were mutual though. Trent Dar could have anyone he wanted. She had 
nothing to offer such a man.
Besides, right now she had to get her own life in order. She was finally free. 
Chaining herself to some man, especially one as powerful as Trent Dar, would 
simply curb her abilities to test her wings. And there was so much she wanted to 
do.
She looked over her shoulder at him, doing her best to keep her expression 
neutral. It was almost impossible to do. Just meeting his gaze made her want to 
melt in his arms. He was more man than she’d ever dreamed possible.
“This is a private conversation,” she told him, and then sucked in a breath when 
his expression instantly hardened. “I need a few minutes alone.”
She realized her hands were shaking when he said nothing, but turned and left. A 
moment of panic rushed through her when she realized he went toward the holding 
bay, where his glider was. The last thing she wanted him to do was leave.
Dawn gave her head a quick shake. What was wrong with her? If he left she could 
continue with her mission, take care of matters and then start a new life. She 
needed to get a grip on herself.
Maybe fucking him had been a mistake. She still tingled everywhere from the 
intense satisfaction he’d given her. And all it had been was a romp on the 
grounds. She closed her eyes briefly, rubbing her face with her hands. She 
needed to stay focused. Her mission had been successful so far, and that was all 
that mattered.
Turning toward the screen in front of her, she fought for concentration. She 
stared at the words that said, “images loading”, and tried to keep her thoughts 
off of where Trent had just gone.
“Dawn. You were successful in discarding the chips?” Her father’s face, Zahn 
Corl, appeared on the screen.
She fought not to glance over her shoulder, knowing there was no way Trent could 
know that she had taken on such a highly illegal mission for her father. Not 
just her father, but head of the house of Corl, one of the most substantial 
families on Greneen. He quite possibly was one of the few Gren who outranked 
Trent Dar.
“Yes.” Her heart raced as she stared into the face of her father, a man she’d 
known about since childhood. “And the Poltar Leap appears to have been a success 
as well. We are still monitoring Bortan activity on Poltar.”
Growing up on Ryl Plantation, whenever Zahn Corl had paid a visit, she had 
always been hurried out of the room, her master not wanting the prominent Gren 
to know of her existence.
“Wouldn’t do for the man to know he has a bastard running around,” Dawn had 
overheard him telling her mother. “It would only bring him grief.”
After the Bortan had attacked, and almost everyone at Ryl killed, she had 
managed to get off of the planet, scrunched into a shuttle with so many other 
terrified slaves.
Her father nodded, his expression grave. “There is word out that one of our top 
warriors might have assisted you. Are you working with Trent Dar?”
Dawn swallowed. She shouldn’t be surprised that her father would have obtained 
such knowledge. It had taken her a year to get off of Molten and secure a ship 
to Greneen, but then less than a day to find and meet her father. As soon as 
she’d sent word to him that she was his daughter, and would like an audience 
with him, he had sent for her immediately. His rank and sound reputation on his 
home planet allowed him privileges the average citizen didn’t have. She wouldn’t 
forget that.
“He has no knowledge of the details of this mission. But yes, I accompanied him 
on the Poltar Leap.” She couldn’t help a small smile, hoping it appeared genuine 
to her father. She prayed her father was proud of her for managing such a 
contact, and see that she possessed his warrior abilities to scout out and find 
ways to manage her mission. “He wasn’t pleased that I was on his ship. But he 
didn’t kick me off of it either.”
Her father didn’t smile, but she thought she saw a twinkle in his non-blinking 
black eyes. “I can’t imagine he would have been too disappointed to have you by 
his side.”
She wasn’t too sure how to take that.
Her father looked down, his hands moving although she couldn’t see through the 
screen to tell what he was doing.
“My filtering programs are picking up an indication that this conversation is 
being bugged.” And with that he severed communications. Her screen went blank.
Dawn turned to look at the doorway, which lead to the holding bay. Trent didn’t 
have the capability to listen in on her transmission from his glider, did he?
Her nerves ate at her when she joined the others in the kitchen area of her 
ship. Trent strolled in a few minutes later, his expression its usual 
non-readable self.
The kitchen, being in the center of her ship, had no windows like the main 
bridge did. A silver counter, lined with shelves, stood in the middle of the 
room, with computers lining the wall that provided the programs for their food.
Dawn liked the fact that the kitchen also had a simple cooking area, and a 
pantry to shelf food items. Many who spent their lives traveling, or those in 
the military, were accustomed to the programmed food. She had never grown a 
taste for the synthetic stuff, and preferred meat that had once been a live 
animal, and fruit and vegetables that had come from plants.
“I’m making my mom’s famous stew,” Rayn said when she noticed Trent enter the 
room. She turned from the large pot and smiled sweetly at him.
“And who is your mother?” Trent asked, curious as to her place in this 
hodge-podge crew Dawn had.
“The mistress of Ryl Plantation,” Rayn said proudly. “I am Rayn Ryl, first 
daughter of the house.”
Trent glanced at Dawn, but she didn’t look at him, instead fingering the cloth 
towel that had bread wrapped in it. Bit by bit the pieces were falling together. 
After what he’d witnessed outside, with Dawn talking to her mother’s grave, and 
knowing they were on Ryl land, he guessed that Dawn had grown up with Rayn, and 
possibly the two men as well. But picturing Dawn as the slave, and Rayn as the 
daughter of the house, didn’t make sense.
Somehow after this planet had been taken over by the Bortan, Dawn had managed to 
make contact with her father, and entered into his good graces. Trent had met 
Zahn Corl during several different Gren ceremonies, and knew the man didn’t give 
just anyone an audience. Dawn’s assertiveness didn’t fit the profile of a former 
sex slave.
It was more than that, he thought to himself while eating the spicy stew offered 
him. Pahr and Reen showed all the signs of growing up as slaves. They were 
submissive, hesitant in making eye contact, and jumped eagerly to wait on the 
others. Dawn ignored all of them through the meal, playing with her food, lost 
in thought. Her beauty was a distraction, but at the moment, her mind appealed 
to him more. He was dying to know what was going on in her thoughts.
In the few minutes that he’d managed to tap into her conversation, he’d been 
floored to discover she had plotted the theft of the Bortan chips with Zahn 
Corl. It didn’t surprise him. Dawn could work outside the law, move in circles 
that no prestigious Gren could touch. If Zahn Corl used her simply as a tool, he 
would have the man’s head. He couldn’t stomach that thought.
He barely paid attention to the idle chatter around him, and noted Dawn didn’t 
seem to give it much notice either. She didn’t even offer to help when the 
others cleaned the meal away after they were through eating. Her long black hair 
was a shroud around her sultry expression. Those gray eyes were clouded with 
thought. He ached to stroke a finger down her cheek, put those worry lines to 
rest.
“Why are you staring at me?” Dawn asked, after the others had left the room.
She walked past Trent, back to the bridge, needing to check the running programs 
and ensure their safety for the evening.
“How long are you staying here?” He answered her question with a question, 
following her as far as the doorway and then leaning against it.
She glanced up at him once she’d reached the panels. He crossed one boot over 
the other, muscles stretching against his pants even though he appeared relaxed. 
Crossing his arms, he cocked his head at her, his gaze penetrating through her.
“Until I know the Poltar Leap was successful.” Determination crossed her face.
“And if it wasn’t? Will you single-handedly wipe every Bortan from this planet?” 
he asked, having a feeling she would enjoy the task.
Trent approached her, enjoying how her eyes widened when he moved closer. And 
then he did what he wanted to do earlier. He stroked her face, running his 
finger from her temple down the side of her cheek. Her eyelashes fluttered, a 
slight flush giving her face a sensual glow.
No matter that he’d just had her, he already wanted her again.
“Don’t you need to return to Command Center?” she asked, not meeting his gaze.
She looked down, her long hair fluttering around her face, appearing to 
concentrate on something on her screen. There was no program pulled up to look 
at however.
“Yes. They have ordered me back.”
She nodded, her head still down.
“Are you trying to get rid of me?” he asked.
“No,” she answered almost too quickly.
Turning, she walked over to the computers lining the wall. He had no problem 
following her over there, moving slowly, feeling her desire for him yet knowing 
she was leery at the same time. It excited him, made him want to pounce on her, 
fuck her until she screamed how badly she wanted him.
Dawn turned on the active scanners, instructing the computer to check the 
grounds around them, track the land to see if any unexpected visitors were 
headed their way. She pushed the buttons to instruct the computer to scan every 
ten minutes, alert her if anyone approached, or tried to leave.
“Command Center wants you to return, yet you don’t,” she mused, watching the 
small screens that displayed the quiet darkness surrounding her ship. “What is 
the reason for that, I wonder?”
He wasn’t sure what made him stay, but he wouldn’t tell her that. He could 
justify several reasons. “You have created an agenda to eliminate the Bortan. I 
want to know what it is.”
Dawn turned around, unable to take a step backward because of the computer 
panels. He was right behind her though, a dangerous fire burning in those black 
eyes. “I’m not the only one with an agenda,” she dared to whisper, her heart 
suddenly fluttering out of control in her chest.
“Then you admit you have one.” Again, he couldn’t keep his hands off of her. Her 
skin was so soft and hot against his touch as he strolled his finger lazily down 
her cheek.
She stood almost as tall as he did, her long hair framing her face and bringing 
out the creamy color of her skin. So fucking beautiful, and yet still such a 
mystery. His cock ached to be inside her again, enjoy her moist heat that burned 
hotter than the Poltarian suns.
“You already know that I have one,” she came back at him, defiance making her 
gray eyes sparkle. “The Bortan destroyed everything I know, and everyone I 
loved. I will see them taken down.”
“And you went after the one power you knew would help you.” He imagined Zahn 
Corl had a hard time turning down such a beautiful creature who showed such 
spirit and claimed to be his daughter.
Dawn’s hands curled into fists at her side, her breathing increased while she 
glared at him. “You have no idea what you’re talking about,” she hissed, and 
shoved her way around him.
But he grabbed her arm, forcing her to turn and look at him. “Then explain it to 
me. Explain why you have so much power backing you.”
She knew then that Trent Dar had managed to tap into her conversation with her 
father. This was news best kept to herself for the moment.
“Why? Why should I explain anything to you?” she asked, and then blurted out 
before she could stop herself, “Do you want to join me?”
Trent didn’t answer right away. His grip didn’t slacken, and he gave her a hard, 
cold stare. She imagined such a look would intimidate many, but she wouldn’t 
cower in front of him—not now, not ever.
Black eyes studied her, shrewd and searching. What was he looking for? She 
allowed him his time, letting the silence grow between them, while his 
expression hardened, his jaw ground tight while the smallest of muscles twitched 
at the base of his jawbone.
“I’ll give that some thought,” he told her, and then released her arm, walking 
past her toward the landing bay.
Once again the sinking feeling that he would leave, that she would never see him 
again, sank through her leaving a heavy feeling in her gut.
Chapter Ten
 
Pahr must have crawled in to sleep with her during the night. He never had liked 
sleeping alone, and Dawn guessed Rayn must have chosen Reen for her lover the 
night before. She lifted his arm gingerly off of her waist, where it rested 
heavily, and scooted out of the bed.
Dawn and the others had lived their lives being told who to sleep with, and 
when. Dawn relished her freedom, having fought every day against the oppressed 
life she’d been born into. The others weren’t doing as well. She knew that. Pahr 
and Reen had never complained about who they had to fuck, or how, or when. Dawn 
didn’t understand then why they never craved independence. Nothing and no one 
would take away the life she had now. And she conceded the Bortan had a hand in 
offering her that. But their price was too high. They would enslave her once 
again if she didn’t fight them until the bitter end.
Padding barefoot into the main control area, she shook off the sleep that still 
surrounded her thoughts, knowing something had just woken her up. She spotted 
Trent already at her control panels. He maneuvered his fingers easily over the 
buttons, as if he’d worked there always, appearing right at home.
She would have asked what he was doing, but simply watching him stole her breath 
away. He looked better now than he had in her dreams through the night. Sitting 
there in the command chair, his expression intent on whatever program he worked, 
her mouth went dry staring at his bare chest, the loose-fitting pants that tied 
at his narrow waist. Dark hair sprinkled over his chest, covering muscles that 
looked dangerous even relaxed.
His profile was more than impressive. Black hair, darker than a starless night, 
bordered his brooding expression. She licked her lips, telling herself to quit 
gawking. He wasn’t wasting a night’s sleep over the programs of her ship. She 
had little doubt that he already knew how to run everything.
Trent didn’t bother to look up when Dawn entered the control room. Her presence 
immediately made his body tighten, need swarming through him. No matter how he 
argued with himself that he didn’t need her in his life, his body begged to 
differ.
After spending an hour discussing matters at hand with Por Gree he’d been ready 
for some serious downtime. He’d almost sent the Poltarian who’d been sleeping 
with his arms and legs wrapped around Dawn, flying across the room when he’d 
checked on her.
But when the alarm sounded, announcing visitors outside, he’d simply walked up 
to her, sleeping so soundly, and given her a gentle shake. Then he’d returned to 
the computers.
It had done him good to see what he’d seen though. Dawn had grown up in a 
different society, as a sex slave. Jumping from one partner to the next was 
probably as natural to her as breathing air. But it wasn’t natural to him. He 
wouldn’t have a woman in his life who wasn’t loyal to him.
Growling without realizing it, he commanded his thoughts to stay focused. It had 
been a damned good thing that he wasn’t able to sleep after discovering another 
man in her bed. Had he, no one would have noticed when unexpected company had 
shown up during the night. Dawn didn’t have the training to be stirred by the 
quick buzzes that sounded when the alarm activated.
The equipment on Dawn’s ship was superb, but an alarm notifying its passengers 
of intruders in the area is only good when it’s heard. Dawn hadn’t stirred. More 
than likely worn out after having sex with him, then with her sex slave 
friend…lover—whatever the hell he was, she hadn’t stirred during the alarm.
“What’s wrong?” Dawn asked, moving closer, too damned close.
If he smelled sex on her he wasn’t sure he wouldn’t send her flying across the 
room. His muscles hardened, rage that was harder to control than he imagined 
surging through him as the scene of her sleeping with the Poltarian passed 
before his mind’s eye once again.
Be it fortunate or unfortunate, she didn’t smell like she’d just fucked the shit 
out of the wimp in her bed. Her tousled, unbrushed hair could be from her just 
waking up, or from that asshole combing his fingers through it.
He allowed himself only a moment to let his gaze travel down her. Those long 
bare legs were a gross distraction. The simple nightshirt she wore barely fell 
to her thighs. More than likely it was all she had on. If she bent over just 
slightly, he had a feeling she would display that adorable ass of hers to anyone 
behind her. He scowled, turning back to the controls.
“You didn’t hear the alarm. We have company.” He made no preamble about the 
fact. She shouldn’t have slept through it.
If she felt remorse over not hearing the alarm, she showed no sign of it. Her 
long black hair flowed down in front of her as she leaned against the panel, 
instantly pushing buttons—as if oblivious to him being there.
“We can convert the screen to night vision,” she told him, reaching for the 
keypad in front of him.
He gripped her wrist, maybe too hard, but he had a hard time controlling 
emotions that he shouldn’t be feeling in the first place. Damn it to the hells. 
He let go of her, quickly pushing the necessary buttons to convert the screen. 
She wasn’t his woman. No matter that he’d had wonderful sex with her—twice, he 
had no claim on her.
“This is a TR-class Gren ship. I know how to work it.” He pushed the necessary 
buttons to convert the screen.
“Good.” Dawn fought the wave of disappointment that the alarms hadn’t woken her. 
She must appear the complete fool to this man. There was no time to worry about 
that now. She glanced up at the screen. “They’re on foot.”
The screen had taken on a red hue, black figures clearly visible through what 
looked like a red fog. The outline of the metallic bodies of the Bortan was 
clear. Dawn had no doubts who traipsed outside her ship.
She left Trent’s side, hurrying around the main control area to the wall on the 
left of them that housed her artillery computers.
“We can send out multiple fire and take them all out at once.” She was so 
excited her breath caught in her throat. The least she could do was show him 
that she knew how to run her ship. If he wanted to handle the controls—fine. She 
could take over the weaponry.
This was the first time she’d used her weapons on this ship. The TR-class ship 
had the latest technology in defensive and offensive weaponry. But since she’d 
accepted the ship from her father’s merchant, at a steal for what it was worth, 
they hadn’t had to defend themselves. She brought up the screen that showed the 
different types of attack methods.
Trent moved around the main control counter that housed the navigational 
computers. He grabbed Dawn when her fingers were inches from the screen. 
Wrapping his arms around her, he took her wrists, holding her hands together.
“No,” he breathed into her hair, her body pressed so hard against his that for a 
moment it fogged his thoughts. He cleared them quickly. She wasn’t a trained 
warrior, but it was in her blood. Now was time for her first lesson. “We don’t 
fire.”
She turned around forcibly in his arms, a passion for the fight burning in her 
gray eyes. “What?” she hissed. “What are you saying?”
His heart swelled at the sight of her. So alive and ready to take on the Bortan. 
She showed no fear, no hesitation that the battle might get ugly. This woman was 
worth fighting for. He might have to teach her a thing or two, but he had a 
feeling he wouldn’t regret doing so.
“Destroying them won’t help us at this point.” He gripped her arms, looking down 
into her face, seeing her confusion and her desire to conquer. It made her even 
more beautiful. “If they attack we will take them out. Don’t worry. But I doubt 
they will. It won’t take them long to determine they have just come upon a 
TR-class ship. They can’t defeat us. But they will note we are here and return. 
My guess is that they’re moving to a new location since we’ve destroyed their 
bases in Grok. We have the prime opportunity to learn where that is.”
Dawn studied him for a minute. Never in all her life would she have guessed she 
would be working next to Trent Dar. Seeing him in action showed her how little 
she knew. But admitting that to him, when it was so apparently obvious at the 
moment, was more than she could stomach.
She looked away from those penetrating black eyes, eyes that saw so much, knew 
more than she could even imagine, and forced herself to go with his line of 
thinking. Unfortunately, now she focused on his broad chest. Without a shirt, 
the dark hair that sprinkled over such well-defined muscles made her suddenly 
dizzy with need. She couldn’t think about that right now though. Taking out the 
Bortan mattered more than anything else. Her craving for Trent couldn’t 
interfere with that.
“We should still prepare the ship for defense,” she said, getting her thoughts 
to focus at last. “Once they’re on their way, we can follow them on your 
glider.”
“Agreed.” He let go of her, not moving, but reaching around her and pressing the 
buttons to prepare the attack program.
There was no way he could move from her side. No matter that she had another man 
sleeping in her bed at the moment. Dawn was so alive with passion, with the 
desire to keep her planet safe, to protect others from the destruction of the 
Bortan. Her quick thinking, even though he knew he’d just embarrassed her, 
impressed him as much as her sultry body, barely clothed in her nightshirt.
“I can do this.” She pushed him out of the way. This was her ship, damn it. She 
wouldn’t submit to him and let him run the show. “Go monitor their activity. 
Tell me if they get too close to the ship.”
No one told Trent what to do. He ran all shows, always. Dawn had already turned 
her back to him, opening the program that he’d started to open. Part of him 
wanted to pull her back, tell her he was in charge. But he fought a smile. She 
stood up to him like many men he knew would never attempt. It appealed to him, 
he liked it. She still had a lot to learn, but he had a feeling teaching her 
would be a pleasurable experience.
He walked back over to the main console, housed in the island counter in the 
middle of the room. Adjusting the controls, he broadened the view in front of 
them in the windows of the control room.
A light flashed on his screen, telling him lasers were ready to fire. He glanced 
at Dawn, the outline of her body visible through her shirt. Those full round 
breasts and perfectly shaped ass hardened every muscle in his body. Her long 
bare legs and feet made her appear more vulnerable, not the warrior that he was 
learning was inside her.
“Don’t you dare make a move unless I give the word,” he ordered, praying she 
would listen to him.
They could take down the Bortan, wipe them from this planet. He could only 
imagine what Por Gree would say if he knew what Trent was doing right now. 
Taking action without clearing it through Command Center would piss him off in a 
second. Trent didn’t give a rat’s ass. There was no time to make contact.
A sleepy Rayn appeared in the doorway. “What’s going on?” she asked, rubbing her 
eyes.
Reen appeared behind her, putting his hand on her shoulder while he glanced from 
Trent to Dawn, worry creasing his forehead.
“Stay where you are and don’t say a word.” Trent’s tone left no room for 
argument.
Neither one of them moved.
“Are we being attacked?” Pahr pushed in among Rayn and Reen, fear making his 
pretty face look pretty damned ugly.
Something hardened inside Trent, something he didn’t like. One look at the 
pathetic man, and he couldn’t believe Dawn could have any interest in him. She 
was so strong, so willful. He had to remind himself that he’d seen Pahr in her 
bed, and swallow the bitter knowledge that Dawn wasn’t his woman.
“We haven’t been attacked yet.” Dawn had a cold edge to her voice. She wouldn’t 
pamper them, regardless of what they’d already endured from the Bortan. “Go to 
Rayn’s room. It’s the safest place right now. Stay there until I say otherwise.”
They looked like frightened children when they all turned, hurrying to the safe 
haven Dawn mentioned. She shook her head, not willing to dwell on the fact that 
they needed to be cared for, protected. They were all unable to face the reality 
that they needed to learn how to defend themselves. It frustrated her, but she 
didn’t have time to think about it now.
What mattered now was monitoring the Bortan outside, and showing Trent she could 
work alongside him and not disappoint him. She might have grown up with Rayn and 
the men, but she wasn’t like them.
The buttons she pressed on the panel in front of her were cool, usually a 
welcoming feeling. Controlling what was around her, and knowing as she moved 
around the helm that it was hers, often empowered her. But never had it been so 
real. Since the Bortan first attacked, she hadn’t experienced one-on-one combat 
with them. Her heart skipped a beat that she was about to embark on possibly a 
life-threatening mission.
Suddenly the floor was too cold under her feet. A shiver raced through her. She 
could handle this. Gritting her teeth, she blew out a silent breath, glancing at 
the large windows in front of her. A handful of black figures huddled outside 
her ship. She couldn’t see the silver parts of their bodies on the night screen. 
But they would have them. Metallic arms, or chests, even tongues, distinguished 
the nasty race of half-man, half-machine. Icy chills crawled down her spine.
“Better get dressed,” Trent said suddenly, almost making her jump out of her 
skin.
She looked down, ashamed at how nervous the Bortan made her. She had to behave 
like a soldier. That was what Trent expected out of her. And she’d learned, ever 
since leaving Poltar, that others assumed that was her nature as well. The Gren 
in her had given her a reputation she’d enjoyed. Others who met her didn’t think 
of her as a spineless sex slave. They feared her on first glance, giving her the 
respect of a race she’d known nothing about until recently.
She turned to look at him, but Trent had already hurried toward the landing bay, 
headed toward his own clothes. She hurried to do the same.
Trent only left the controls for a minute. There wasn’t time to waste. The 
Bortan were plotting outside, and whether they attacked, or moved on their way, 
they needed to be ready. Adrenaline pumped through him, hardening his muscles, 
making his heart thud in his chest.
Por Gree had ordered him to return to Command Center. “You’re chasing after a 
sex slave, Dar. That isn’t like you.”
His commander was wrong. And he was getting tired of being told what to do by 
someone who didn’t have the entire picture. What mattered was bringing down the 
Bortan. There was too much politics where Command Center was concerned, too many 
fucking diplomats with their hands in everything.
Dawn had an edge that she wasn’t aware of. She didn’t answer to anyone. She fell 
through the cracks. He envied her that. She wasn’t Gren. She didn’t appear 
Poltarian. And he had a feeling she’d discovered she could move in different 
circles because of her appearance, and the mystery about who she was. Trent 
guessed her father had seen this too.
She would make an outstanding tool. Trent didn’t know Zahn Corl real well. But 
he wouldn’t allow the man to use his bastard daughter. He slipped into his 
pants, pulled his boots on and grabbed his shirt, sliding his arms through the 
holes while he hurried back to the helm of the ship.
Dawn hurried back into the control room as well, her unbuttoned shirt flying 
open behind her. Pahr hurried behind her, his hands on her, helping her dress. 
Trent gripped the counter that housed the main computers, glaring at Pahr with 
so much ferocity, Dawn thought for a moment he looked like a cat, ready to 
pounce on its prey.
“Pahr. Go.” She shrugged him off, gesturing him out of the room. She didn’t dare 
take her gaze from Trent’s. “He was simply trying to help.”
“Don’t make him leave on my account,” he growled through gritted teeth.
If the situation with the Bortan wasn’t so serious at the moment she would be 
flattered by his jealousy. Dawn imagined Trent would never admit to such a weak 
emotion though.
“I told him to leave as a courtesy to you,” she spat back at him. “I thought you 
might not want other men seeing me naked. My mistake. Obviously it doesn’t 
matter to you in the least.”
She hurried to button her buttons, daring to take her gaze from his and glance 
toward the main screen. There were no Bortans in sight. She wasn’t sure if her 
pounding heart came from telling Trent off, or wondering where the Bortan had 
disappeared.
“He was already in your bed.” Trent was pushing buttons on the computer, moving 
too fast for her to see what he was doing. He didn’t look up at her, his 
expression hard and focused. “It’s a little late now for courtesies.”
She moved around to stand next to him, noticing he was securing a force field 
around her ship. “Pahr doesn’t like to sleep alone. He isn’t accustomed to it. 
He crawled into bed with me after I fell asleep.”
Trent gave no sign that he’d just heard her. “Let’s go,” he said, pushing one 
last button and then turning around toward the landing bay.
He stalked toward his glider, Dawn’s words slowly digesting through his system. 
He still argued with himself that it didn’t matter what she did with the 
Poltarian. But damn it, he liked the idea that she might not have had sex with 
him.
Pulling the glider around, he watched while she reached for the panel on the 
wall, pushing the buttons to open the large door. The warm night air wrapped 
around him. It did nothing to help the heat that slowly wrapped around his 
muscles, which were already clenched.
He watched her tight ass and the way her pants hugged her curves. His cock 
bulged in his pants, while his gaze took in her long slender legs, legs that 
were perfectly made to wrap around a man’s neck.
When she turned around her tongue darted over her lips, a gesture he was 
noticing she did when she was nervous. She stood tall, proud-looking, but her 
gray eyes swarmed with a dark hue, like a building thundercloud on a stormy day 
on Greneen.
He extended his hand to her. “Come here.”
Chapter Eleven
 
Dawn could take on the entire solar system nudged in between Trent’s legs like 
this. His hard body pressed against hers, his arms bracing her in as he reached 
from behind her to control the glider. She couldn’t think of anywhere she would 
rather be.
“The scanner here tells me where our friends are,” he told her, his voice a 
brusque whisper against her cheek while he reached around her easily and pointed 
to the controls.
Dawn was a tall woman. Growing up she’d always been much larger than the other 
children. As an adult, she towered over many men she knew. It was her Gren 
blood. Her black hair was always noticeable among the white-haired Poltarians. 
The others on Ryl Plantation scorned the seed that made her so different from 
them. Secretly she worshipped the fact that she wasn’t like the rest of them.
Trent had no problem controlling the glider with her sitting in front of him. He 
made her feel intelligent, beautiful, and she sent a silent prayer to the gods 
that it would be a long time before she parted ways with this man. Knowing they 
could be equals, in and out of the bedroom, made her heart ache with 
possibilities.
Not to mention the other aches distracting her. Her pussy was damp with need. 
Every time his arm brushed against her, the heat radiating through her from 
where his thighs pressed against hers, her entire body throbbed distractedly. 
What she wouldn’t do to fuck him again!
“They are headed south of Ryl Plantation. That is barren land, rocky. The Bosha 
destroyed the area long ago from grazing.” She tried not to lean from side to 
side too much while the glider flew high. And she ached to lean back into 
Trent’s hard muscular body. Instead she leaned forward, his body surrounding her 
already creating an unbearable need in her. “It’s pretty isolated. I can see why 
the Bortan would go there to lick their wounds.”
Trent knew it was probably time to check in with Command Center, let Por Gree 
know what was up. He wouldn’t back out of tracking them. And he sure as hell 
wouldn’t leave the battle. But finding where the Bortan had regrouped was too 
big to take on without backup.
“Well, we aren’t going to give them time to regroup.” He glanced down at the 
small screen that displayed a topographical view of the land beneath them.
His cock throbbed with the pulse of his heart, knowing mere fabric kept him from 
Dawn’s ass. She might as well be in his arms, she was snuggled in so closely. If 
it wasn’t for the fact that she sat rigid, her body almost shaking, he could 
have believed the moment almost intimate. But he guessed that adrenaline pumped 
through her, the ache for battle mounting inside her.
“Look. There.” She pointed at the bleep that appeared on his screen, which 
showed life moving below. “Fly lower. They’re underneath us. We can take them 
out and still discover where it is they’re heading.”
It was exactly what he had on his mind. Something about her giving orders had 
him gritting his teeth. She needed to learn who was in charge here. Yet at the 
same time, knowing she could think through battle procedures turned him on as 
much as her sultry body pressed against his did.
He slowed his speed, lifting them up higher so that they wouldn’t be spotted. 
Dawn frowned when he adjusted their altitude but didn’t say anything. He watched 
her mouth form a thin line though, his attention staying on her profile while 
she looked down into the darkness. She glanced back at him when he pulled out 
his comm and wrapped it around his ear.
“What are you doing?” she whispered, feeling silly for doing so but so wrapped 
up in the moment it seemed wrong to talk out loud.
“Gree, this is Dar,” he said instead of answering her.
He couldn’t help but rest his hand on her leg, giving her a reassuring squeeze 
when she looked at him, surprised. He had no idea how many Bortan lay ahead of 
them, though. They might need reinforcements, and he wanted them ready.
Trent quickly gave Por Gree their coordinates. “There are almost a dozen Bortan 
headed on foot to an undetermined location. My guess is they are reassembling in 
an isolated part of the planet.”
Dawn was all too aware of the heat from Trent’s hand on her leg. She twisted, 
cradled in his arm, watching him talk to his commanding officer. There was no 
way the Gren who was in charge of Command Center on Molten would approve of 
Trent being with her. She could only imagine his comments. Yet Trent had stayed. 
She held her breath, sure of the fact that he wouldn’t mention her presence with 
him now.
“Don’t worry about me.” Trent wouldn’t be pulled out of this. As far as he was 
concerned, this was his mission, and they would fly by his rules. “What I need 
is several ships. Send them into orbit and have them contact me when they are in 
position. I’ll give coordinates at that time.”
The steady beat of Trent’s heart pulsed through her, his body heat enveloping 
her like a shroud while she watched his face. He met her gaze, those black eyes 
not blinking as he seemed to stare deep into her soul. His hand caressed her 
leg, the only sign he offered that he was aware of how intimate their position 
was while he prepared them for battle.
“Dawn Corl has a TR-class ship. We’ll use that.” He didn’t take his gaze off of 
her as he calmly mentioned her name to Por Gree.
Those deep pools of gray swarmed with emotion while she watched him. Defiance 
and worry hardened her expression. He ached to press his mouth to her pouty 
lips, reassure her that he didn’t give a rat’s ass about her mixed heritage. She 
was more woman than any lady he’d ever known. Although a bit untamed, she made 
his cock throb when sex should have been the last thing on his mind. He had no 
intention of letting her get away any time soon.
Dawn forgot to breathe. For a moment panic rushed through her. Ex-sex slaves 
didn’t own ships like that. She would be questioned, called a liar, detained and 
put through interrogations where she wouldn’t be able to tell the truth. And no 
lie could justify her owning such a ship.
“That’s not open for discussion, Gree. Send me the ships and wait for further 
instruction.” With that, he pulled the comm from his ear.
Never had she seen his expression so hard. His voice was deadly calm, cool and 
demanding.
Dawn turned around, focusing on the controls although it was all she could do to 
actually see them. He had mentioned her to Por Gree, the highest-ranking Gren in 
the area. And from what she’d just heard, this wasn’t the first time her name 
had been mentioned.
“Get your thoughts in order, soldier,” Trent whispered, almost seductively, in 
her ear.
Chills rushed through her. “I’m fine,” she snapped, and she would be.
It sucked that he read her so easily. She straightened, taking a slow deep 
breath, suddenly able to study the controls in front of her.
Trent watched Dawn push the buttons on his control panel, noticing how her hands 
shook while she checked their coordinates. There would be questions later. But 
she would answer to him, not anyone else. That much he could ensure. Right now 
wasn’t the time to discuss it. He had every intention of knowing how she’d 
obtained her ship anyway. Whether or not he shared that information with Por 
Gree, he would decide after he learned the truth.
Trent took over the controls, the small glider not needing more than one person 
to man it. He brought them down, knowing he needed to move quickly and then 
locate where they were headed. Taking the Bortan out now really only offered 
personal satisfaction. More than likely they had already communicated with their 
commanding officer, told him of Dawn’s ship.
“Look. We’re picking up more life forms ahead of us.” Dawn pointed to the screen 
just as Trent swooped down and opened fire.
Four of the Bortan fell before several others turned, aiming their lasers at 
him. The night opened with quick flashes of light as he fired again, his muscles 
hardening while several more of them dropped to the ground.
They were close enough to the ground for Dawn to get a good look at them, their 
silver implants flashing distracting light as the Trent attacked them with laser 
fire. She could see the red eyes of one of them before his body crumpled to the 
ground.
Her heart raced in her chest. She gripped Trent’s thighs, her palms damp while 
she gulped in air. The attack was over in seconds but the adrenaline still 
pumped through her body. Suddenly she felt too cramped inside the small glider.
“We need to get back to my ship,” she said, wanting the security of what she’d 
come to consider home. She could defend herself better there, and they had just 
waged a small war.
“In a minute. We’re going to find out where they are camped.” Trent sounded way 
too calm.
It annoyed her that he was so relaxed behind her. She would never possess his 
irritating calmness. Trent had just killed ten men and his heart maintained its 
slow steady beat against her back. What she wouldn’t do for his warrior skills.
Trent sped away from the dead Bortan on the ground. He wrapped his arm around 
Dawn and took her chin in his hand, turning her face to his. Her gray eyes were 
deep pools of wonder, her cheeks flushed, letting him know adrenaline pumped 
through her as hard as it did him. He claimed her mouth, impaling her with his 
tongue, feeling her heat, which only added to the fire that burned through him. 
She gasped, feeding him, arching against him like a cat craving attention.
Twisting into him, Dawn’s breasts swelled against his rock-hard chest. Her 
nipples tingled, aching to be sucked on. Leaning against his arm that rested on 
the controls of the glider, his untamed strength rose through her, feeding her 
hunger. More than anything she wished they were anywhere other than where they 
were at the moment. She wanted to stretch out next to him, taste and touch him, 
glide her tongue over his body and consume him.
It wasn’t fair that he brought her need to a boiling point. That in the middle 
of such action he would claim her mouth, gripping her face the way he did. Yet 
at the same time, an energy surged through her that she didn’t understand. Her 
heart raced so hard she would die if she couldn’t feed that energy. Confined in 
the glider, racing high over the ground, there was little she could do but try 
to keep her mind from drowning in a complete fog of lust.
Tasting her made Trent feel more alive than he remembered feeling in a long 
time. He let go of her mouth, knowing he needed to stay focused, but unable to 
resist her, especially when the high from the attack surged so hard through his 
veins. The same rapid energy climaxed through her. He saw it in her eyes, her 
quickness of breath, the beautiful flush of her cheeks.
Dawn looked down quickly, her lips wet from his kiss, the taste of him still in 
her mouth. She had to blink several times, fighting to regain her senses. His 
actions surprised her but fed the fiery pulse that already coursed through her.
“Would you look at this,” Trent said, as if nothing had just happened.
He’d let go of her face, slid his hand down the front of her, coming dangerously 
close to brushing her breasts before taking the controls with both hands once 
again. The kiss had lasted a mere second, and if it wasn’t for the taste of him 
lingering in her mouth, she would have wondered if it had even happened. Once 
again he was the cool, controlled Trent Dar, warrior—predator—more man than she 
knew what to do with.
“We need to get back to my ship,” she whispered, staring in awe at what looked 
like a small city buried in a canyon beneath them. Even in the dark she knew 
there were hundreds of Bortan down there.
“I’m curious why this wasn’t picked up on our scanners on Molten.” Trent turned 
the glider around, flying even faster now.
“What’s that?” Dawn asked, pointing at the small screen on his panel.
“Company. Hold on.” Trent pushed the glider to full capacity, tearing out of 
there so fast the machine shook underneath and around her.
Sweat beaded on Dawn’s skin as she looked around them into the blackness of the 
night. She saw nothing, but they were being pursued. The screen in front of her 
now showed three bleeps of red light narrowing in on them.
“We’ve got to make it,” she whispered, willing her ship to be closer, knowing 
they were no match for any Bortan ship that might attack. In this glider, they 
were way too vulnerable.
Trent’s body was hard as stone. He was so solid, quiet and sure of himself. Dawn 
fought a tremble that threatened to consume her body. She clenched her muscles 
so hard they hurt, more than aware of everywhere Trent touched her. His muscular 
arms pressed against hers while he worked the controls. Corded muscles in his 
legs pressed against her outer thighs. His rock-hard chest pressed against her 
back. She could feel the heat from his breath burning against her cheek. Wrapped 
up against him was like having a security blanket against the evil around them.
She wouldn’t be a liability to him though. There was no doubt in her mind that 
Trent would have no desire to be with a woman who confined him, brought him 
down, or proved to be nothing but trouble. She had to be strong. The Bortan had 
surrounded her before, brought death to her doorstep. She’d lived through that 
experience, and she would live through this one too.
Her fingers shook and were damp with perspiration when she reached for her comm 
in her pocket.
“Rayn.” She called her ship, praying her three shipmates, her only “family” left 
in this solar system, well, shy of a father she didn’t know—wouldn’t fall apart 
on her when she was so close to panic herself. “Rayn,” she said again.
Finally Rayn answered, sounding sleepy. She couldn’t believe the woman had gone 
back to sleep when destruction loomed around them.
“Go open the holding bay doors. We’re coming back.” She managed a calm, relaxed 
tone. Rayn would cooperate better if she didn’t sound too excited.
She cut the transmission after hearing Rayn agree without ceremony.
Trent clamping down on her, his muscles constricting while one hand protectively 
went to her stomach, was the only clue Dawn had before a flash of light blew up 
the night sky next to them.
“Shit!” She screamed and ducked, making the glider swerve slightly underneath 
her before she could control her actions.
Trent said nothing. His grip around her waist tightened protectively as he 
navigated the machine with one hand.
“They’re attacking us.” She sounded like a blubbering idiot, no better than her 
crewmates.
Dawn searched the skies on either side of them, her heart racing so hard she 
thought it would explode in her throat. Another explosion that seemed to be 
right on top of them rocked the entire glider. She would have bounced off of the 
seat if Trent didn’t have such a tight hold on her.
“We’re going down,” he said as calmly as if nothing at all were out of the 
ordinary.
“We’ve been shot?” She looked frantically at the controls, her mind whirling out 
of control. Too many things were going on at once.
“Yes,” he said.
It couldn’t end like this. She wouldn’t die at the hand of the Bortan. There had 
to be something they could do, some way they could fight back. Her heart pounded 
in her head, a ringing starting that echoed through her ears. Everything around 
them was black except for the illuminated screen on the control panel in front 
of her. And it didn’t seem to make any sense.
“I can land this thing, but it’s going to be rough.” Trent’s words sounded like 
they came through a tunnel.
The ground seemed to swallow them up, the rough vibration grinding under her 
feet and reverberating through her body. When the dome came up over them, the 
hot night air made it hard to breathe. Dawn almost fell off of the glider, 
strong hands stabilizing her before she could go to her knees.
“Get to the ship. Now.” Trent’s tone was stern.
What? Where was her ship? She shoved strands of hair away from her face, 
fighting to get her bearings.
“Run. Now!” he yelled at her, realizing she was in shock.
Trent didn’t have time to help her through the trauma, though. A Bortan carrier 
flew down toward them, riddling the ground nearby with the small launched 
missiles the Bortan were known to use. They meant business. Like that surprised 
him.
He pulled the Rodner free from the side of his damaged glider and hoisted it to 
his shoulder. “Get that ship of yours started and prepare for attack,” he 
yelled.
Dawn noticed her ship not too far away and started running toward it. It seemed 
like the field got bigger the faster she ran. She could hear the carriers flying 
over her, which brought back the memories of the first time the Bortan attacked 
her planet. Her legs were like jelly. How she managed to make it to her ship, 
she had no idea. An explosion sounded behind her just as she slid into her 
landing bay. The doors shut behind her with a strong whoosh.
“What’s happening?” Rayn cried out, immediately running into Dawn’s arms.
“Open those doors back up.” Dawn pushed Rayn away, ignoring the frantic look on 
her friend’s face. “Trent is right behind me.”
She pushed the buttons on the panel herself, staring hard into the darkness that 
appeared when the silver doors slid back open, willing Trent to run through the 
broadening entrance.
He hurried into the loading bay a minute later. “Shut the doors,” he ordered, 
barely acknowledging any of them as he hurried into the main control room.
Dawn pushed the button to shut the doors and hurried to follow. She ignored her 
crewmates, if that was what she could call her lifelong friends, and assumed the 
position at the artillery panel when Trent took the helm.
The engines roared to life, making the walls and floor vibrate with the secure 
hum of life.
Dawn had her wits about her now, feeling the fool for her behavior when she’d 
been on the glider. She’d panicked, plain and simple. Her ship enabled her 
confidence to return, but she worried she’d ruined her image in Trent’s eyes.
Preparing her missiles and lining up all lasers, Dawn glanced Trent’s way. His 
calm stance made her blood burn through her veins. What she wouldn’t do for his 
warrior qualities, to be strong and self-assured, confident in all matters. 
Straightening, she stuck her chin out, doing her best not to dwell on how 
powerful and just plain damned sexy he looked standing at the controls of her 
ship.
Trent adjusted his comm to his ear while lifting the ship off the ground. The 
Bortan would fucking go down tonight, once and for all. They had rallied into 
that canyon, making themselves a perfect target for some serious house cleaning.
They hadn’t anticipated he’d find them so quickly. The Bortan figured they had 
time to regroup. He’d surprised them being on Dawn’s ship. More than likely they 
had figured out who they were doing battle with. Well, more power to them. They 
were trapped in that canyon, and now was time for them to die.
Doing a quick scan, he found the ships he’d demanded in orbit. Damn good thing 
Por Gree hadn’t let him down. Command Center would lose him if he wasn’t given 
free rein on this mission.
He punched in the necessary coordinates and then opened communications quickly, 
giving the location of the Bortan.
“We’ve got them on our ass.” The thrill of the fight rang through in Dawn’s 
voice.
“Fire at will.” He watched her long black hair sway just above her ass when she 
turned and reached for the panel.
Her profile showed the glow in her expression. The way she licked her lips when 
the screen lit up with light, her gray eyes widening, a smile slowly appearing. 
Her Gren blood soared through her, the love for battle in her nature. He 
wondered how she’d managed a life of slavery when she so obviously appeared at 
home as the aggressor, strong and willing to learn how to take what she wanted.
“Damn good shot,” he told her when the Bortan ship exploded on screen.
He’d almost forgotten about the Poltarians hovering in the doorway of the 
control room until Rayn cheered.
“Yay, Dawn! You got rid of them.” Reen clapped his hands together, his white 
hair making his expression appear almost childish when he grinned from ear to 
ear.
“Yes, it was.” Dawn ignored the others, Trent being the only person in the room 
she could focus on. She would make him see that she had it in her to take on 
battle. He would know that she could stand by him, fighting to the end.
The way his black eyes glowed when he praised her made her tummy do flip-flops. 
Once this battle was over, she would see to it that she got some serious alone 
time with this man. She needed him desperately at the moment. The molten fire 
that had been creeping through her while cuddled next to him on the glider now 
raged into a burning flame of lust.
“We’re coming over the canyon where the Bortan are now,” Trent said into his 
comm, unable to look away from Dawn.
Never had he seen a woman so alive from battle. He saw in her what raged through 
his own blood. The sweet taste of victory would be theirs. He could feel it in 
his bones. And once they took the Bortan out, he was going to fuck Dawn silly. 
The woman was consuming his thoughts. No matter how focused he was on leading 
them into the fight, his cock wouldn’t relax, not with her so near. He had to be 
inside her soon, or he wouldn’t be able to think at all.
“That’s a hell of a ship you got there, Dar.” The commander of one of the ships 
Por Gree had sent out didn’t hide his sarcasm.
Trent didn’t give a rat’s ass what they thought of Dawn, or her ship. He knew 
any of them would give his right eye to man a TR-class ship.
“Focus on the mission,” he ordered, refusing to respond to such a flippant 
comment. “We’ve got them all rounded up below in that canyon. Let’s make this a 
clean easy job and be done with it.”
“I’ve got two ships from Command Center on my screen.” Dawn had moved over to 
the communications panel, plotting the course to take the ship toward the 
canyon. “And the Bortan should be appearing on screen now.”
She looked up at the large windows in front of them, adjusted for darkness, even 
though the suns were slowly creeping over the horizon.
“We’ve got Bortan ships coming in around us.” Trent remained at the helm, 
watching Dawn when she hurried back to the weapons control.
“Ready to attack,” she told him, her back to him while her fingers posed over 
the buttons.
“Now,” he said, and then watched the view in front of them when one of the 
Bortan ships blew up in the sky.
They had the Bortans out of the sky within minutes, thanks to the quick reload 
power in Dawn’s ships. The other two ships opened fire on the canyon. The Bortan 
were no match for the attack. Not only were they not prepared, they hadn’t 
expected to do battle with a ship as quick as a TR-class Gren ship. None of this 
league were housed on Molten.
“Dar,” Por Gree’s voice bellowed through the comm. “I want you in my office 
immediately.”
Chapter Twelve
 
Dawn realized she’d never been alone on her ship since she’d brought it back 
from Greneen. The first thing she’d done after obtaining it was to find any 
survivors from Ryl Plantation. On the same note, Rayn, Pahr and Reen hadn’t been 
off of the ship since she’d found them on Poltar. The three of them had been 
excited to get a tour of Molten when the lady Gren officer had offered to escort 
them. Their parting smiles assured her they were happy.
Meanwhile, Dawn felt like a caged animal. Her ship couldn’t dock on Molten, the 
landing area wasn’t designed for a ship of her size. But she’d been ordered to 
stay in orbit, and she knew the tracking devices locked on her ship would 
trigger the alarm if she broke orbit. At the same time, she wasn’t sure how much 
longer she could stand orbiting the manmade moon waiting to see what they 
decided to do to her.
Some “thank you” this was after she’d used her ship to eliminate the Bortan.
It had been over a day since Trent had left with the others to go down to the 
surface. She wouldn’t leave her ship. And she had no desire to be interrogated, 
which was exactly what would happen the second she walked into Command Center. 
If she stayed here much longer though, she would absolutely go nuts.
She almost jumped when her comm, which sat on the table in the kitchen area of 
the ship, began beeping.
“This is Dawn,” she said after affixing it to her ear.
“Dawn. Go to your control panel. I’ve stabilized a secure channel.” Her father’s 
voice was a welcoming sound.
It didn’t take long for her to download the flight path he sent her. Zahn Corl 
was arranging her secure passage to Greneen. The only catch—she had to leave 
immediately.
“Don’t worry about the tracking beam on your ship. We can send in false orders 
to assure you aren’t followed. I will ensure the safety of your friends from 
Ryl,” her father told her. “Is there anyone else you need to protect?”
Dawn stared at the small image of her father. His black eyes stared back at her. 
She guessed he was asking about Trent Dar, but she wouldn’t ask. Trent didn’t 
need her protection. She licked her lips, her mouth suddenly too dry. A slow 
knot twisted unpleasantly in her gut while a foul taste rose in her throat.
“No. There is no one else.” She plotted the course, knowing this might be her 
only chance to safely leave Molten, leave Poltar, finally put her life of 
slavery completely behind her.
She was sick to her stomach, feeling no thrill of adventure whatsoever when she 
pulled out of orbit. Her father would secure her passage. Curiosity had her 
wanting to know how he managed it. But she didn’t have that relationship with 
him yet. And it would be easier to pick his brain in person anyway.
After plotting the course her father had given her, there wasn’t much for her to 
do—again. And sleep wasn’t an option. The second she lay her head down, images 
of Trent, those strong arms, that powerful body, his calm presence, swarmed 
through her thoughts like a plague. She couldn’t quit thinking about him.
Greneen was the fifth planet in the Ryclox solar system. Small and a soft green 
from space, Dawn enjoyed the view in front of her when she settled into orbit. 
She didn’t wait long before landing instructions were issued. This was Trent’s 
home planet. Thoughts of him continued to overwhelm her as she navigated her 
ship, taking it off of autopilot so she could bring it into the landing bay.
“Permission needed for boarding,” the automated female voice said over her 
speakers, startling her.
Dawn glanced down at her screen. Her father wasn’t supposed to meet her here, 
his schedule wouldn’t allow it. He’d made arrangements for her to have transport 
to the housing he’d arranged.
A chill rushed over her. What would it mean for her father to come greet her in 
person? A wave of nervous energy made her fist her hands. She needed to learn to 
be strong, stand before her father without feeling so damned unsure about 
herself. When she’d been a slave she never had problems standing up to her 
owners, defying them in any way possible. As a free woman, she should have those 
same guts.
“Permission granted.” Dawn left the control center for her landing bay, pressing 
the buttons on the wall for the doors to open.
She rubbed her hands along her pants. They were suddenly damp with perspiration. 
Swallowing a lump in her throat, she gave herself a quick lecture—stand tall, no 
emotion, give no indication of her feelings.
Trent Dar didn’t say hi when he walked onto her ship. In fact, he didn’t look 
happy to see her at all. From the first glance she saw of him, he looked 
positively outraged.
Trent reached the panel where Dawn stood and pressed the buttons to close the 
bay and lock it.
“I didn’t tell you that you could leave.” He gripped her hair, pulling her head 
back so that he could stare down at her with his black, non-blinking eyes. His 
lips formed a thin line, that and shadows under his eyes were her only 
indication that he wasn’t in a good state of mind—far from it.
“How are you here?” Dawn couldn’t breathe. He was the last person she’d expected 
to see walk through her doors.
“Why did you run away from me?” Her surprise at seeing him simply fueled his 
fire. He’d been so pissed off when word reached him that she’d broken orbit, 
disobeyed orders from Command Center, and him, and fled to Greneen.
Trent pressed into her, pushing her against the wall behind her. He needed to 
question her, learn the line of thinking behind those deep pools of gray that 
stared up at him.
There was no way she could think straight with his body stroking hers. Those 
bulging muscles, his scent, the way he looked down at her. She couldn’t handle 
it. Another second in his arms and she would beg him to fuck her. And the last 
thing he would ever see out of her was docile behavior. She would never submit 
to anyone—not even Trent.
Pushing away from him, she hurried out of the landing bay. “What are you doing 
here, Trent?” she asked as she moved into the control room. Walking away from 
him allowed her a second to breathe, to regain control of the situation. “And 
don’t give me this shit about running from you. I didn’t run from anyone.”
He was closer behind her than she realized. Trent gripped her shoulder, spinning 
her around to face him again.
“I told you not to leave. You disobeyed me.” He took both of her shoulders in 
his grip, giving her a slight shake.
It was all she needed to completely clear her senses. She brought her hands up 
quickly, smacking his arms away from her.
“I don’t take orders from you,” she hissed, pointing her finger at his face. 
“You don’t own me. I am free to do what I want.”
The last thing he would be able to stand was Dawn racing through the solar 
system, giving no thought to him. He’d been nuts from the moment he found out 
she’d broken orbit. Defying Command Center didn’t bother him. But he’d told her 
he would be back. She knew he’d planned to return to her. Not even Command 
Center had mattered to him when he’d learned she was gone.
He’d given them all the information he’d planned on anyway. When word reached 
him that Dawn was gone, he’d simply walked out of the debriefing room.
There had been questions—demands even. But Trent would have none of it. He’d 
pulled the insignia displaying his rank off of his shirt, and tossed it at Por 
Gree.
The astonished man’s face was the last thing he’d seen before leaving to obtain 
a T-class ship. It wasn’t as fast as Dawn’s, and not as large or comfortable. 
But he’d pushed it as hard as he could to make it to Greneen before Dawn reached 
her father. He would interrogate her first. He would know Dawn’s mind before her 
father had a chance to get his hands on her. And he would know Zahn Corl’s mind 
before allowing Dawn to get close to him.
“You will not gallivant around without telling me what you are doing.” He fought 
the urge not to grab her again, balling his hands into fists at his side.
“You don’t own me,” she yelled, her temper consuming her. She poked him in the 
chest, the simple touch sending a rush of charged energy through her. She dared 
to stand up to him. Trent Dar needed to learn right now that she wouldn’t be his 
slut. She wouldn’t wait for his word as to whether she could move or not. “I’m 
not some slave to order around, or to sit obediently until you decide you have 
time for me.”
“There is a difference between being a slave, and simply showing respect. You 
knew where I was, what I was doing. You had to have known I wouldn’t stand for 
you running without knowing what you were getting into.” He wouldn’t lose his 
temper. As much as she pushed him, he wouldn’t lose control and force her 
submission. The woman was out of control, running into a beehive she knew 
nothing about. It didn’t surprise him when he’d unburied the scrambled 
transmission between her and her father. But until he knew the man’s motives, he 
wouldn’t allow Dawn to be controlled by the man. And that was what was happening 
here.
“Respect is earned.” She wanted to scream at him, pound his chest until he 
showed a little emotion. His calm tone, his strong manner as he stood so coolly 
in front of her made her want to fly into a rage, force his hand into showing a 
little emotion. “And I had no idea what you were doing or when you would come 
back. Did you think I’d just stay in my ship all alone waiting submissively 
until you had time for me?”
“I was defending you as the rightful owner of this ship, defending your 
knowledge of the Bortan.” He saw how she shook with emotion. It hadn’t surprised 
him a bit that she struck out at him with her frustration. He didn’t doubt 
sitting and waiting had made her nuts. But she had so much to learn, and 
sometimes biding her time instead of jumping the moment she was told to, would 
save her ass. He pulled her into his arms, feeling her heart race in her chest 
when he embraced her. “Why did you run here the second your father beckoned? Is 
it time for you to report in to him?”
Dawn went still in his arms. It shouldn’t surprise her that he knew about her 
father’s transmission. She wondered if there was anything Trent didn’t know. 
Emotions surged through her that were too intense to handle all at once.
“I don’t report to anyone.” Already he’d witnessed her inexperience in battle. 
He’d seen her panic during the attack on the Bortan. Somehow she needed to show 
him she was strong, capable of taking on life by herself. That mattered so much 
to her that he realize she didn’t need to be taken care of. “There was nothing 
for me on Poltar.”
“But there was someone there for you,” he whispered into her hair, his hands 
moving over her back. “Don’t ever take off without me again.”
The way he caressed her, branding her skin wherever he touched, made her want to 
melt at his feet. The hardness of his body pressed against hers. He was so 
damned strong, so powerful, so incredibly sure of himself. Looking up at him, 
adjusting herself in his arms so she could see his face, she almost went weak in 
the knees when she saw the intensity of his emotions swimming in his gaze.
“Damn it. Trent.” She couldn’t take it anymore.
Moving her arms, she embraced his neck, pulling his face closer to his. Her hand 
tangled through his thick black hair, holding tight while she pulled him closer 
to her so that she could kiss him.
Trent had no intention of protesting. He loved her aggressive nature. She was so 
damned defiant, a wild woman in dire need of training. She’d been given power, 
and along with her intense beauty she was an incredible weapon. But not one to 
be abused. She might not see it, but he did. Trent would ensure she kept her 
freedom, and that she wasn’t abused.
Claiming her mouth when she demanded his, he pulled her hard against him. The 
gasp she let out into his mouth sent him over the edge. She wore the black 
attire commonly worn among Gren women, and the simple pullover shirt she’d 
tucked into her black pants loosened easily when he pulled on it.
He devoured her, the energy she returned in the kiss feeding the fire that raged 
through him. Tugging her shirt free from her pants, he brushed over the smooth 
skin of her waist. Her breathing quickened as he stroked her smooth skin, felt 
her heat scald his hands.
“Woman. You’re on fire.” Gripping her hips, he lifted her onto the counter that 
housed the controls for the ship.
She brought her long slender legs up and he took hold of one of her boots, 
pulling it free and then tossing it behind him. He did the same with the other 
boot and then ran his hands down her thighs. The sultry look she gave him, her 
long black hair falling over her full breasts had his cock raging for freedom in 
his pants.
“I didn’t like waiting so long for you to fuck me.” She spread her legs around 
him, pulling her closer to him until his swollen cock pressed against her 
throbbing pussy. “And I didn’t appreciate being left in orbit around that damned 
moon.”
She saw his eyes glaze over with need, felt how hard he was for her. The ache 
deep inside her was so strong. But she had him where she wanted him now. He 
would hear her words. She pulled at his shirt, noting for the first time that he 
didn’t wear the official uniform of a commanding Gren officer. He was dressed 
like a Gren citizen, and she tugged at the black shirt, sliding it up until she 
exposed rippling muscles. She ran her fingers through his chest hair, the 
coarseness making her want to strip quickly, rub her breasts against him.
“You’re the one who left me.” Trent reached for the button on her pants, undoing 
it quickly and then lifting her ass off the counter so that he could slide her 
pants down her legs.
He tossed them behind him too, unable to take his gaze from her shaven pussy, 
moisture making the smooth skin glisten.
Dawn had never wanted a man to touch her. She’d fought it every time the master 
at Ryl Plantation suggested she entertain one of his visitors. In the end, he’d 
given up, and she’d resorted to serving meals, taking care of the young ones. 
But not now. Now this was whatshe wanted. More than anything in this solar 
system, she wanted Trent Dar.
“And you came after me,” she acknowledged, knowing he wanted her too.
“Damn straight.” He reached for her shirt, needing to see all of her. Pulling it 
from her and tossing it with her pants, he stared at her naked body, perched on 
the helm. Her long legs wrapped around his waist. “I have no intention of 
letting you go.”
“Take your clothes off. Prove that to me.” She was on fire, needing him so bad.
He didn’t argue with her, didn’t suggest she do the task for him. His shirt came 
off first, revealing his powerful torso, corded muscles moving under his flesh 
when he moved to take off his boots, and then his pants. His cock was engorged, 
full and ripe, hard as rock as it throbbed in front of him.
“I think you have that proof already, woman. And if you weren’t so damned 
stubborn, you would see it.” He bent in front of her then, running his fingers 
along the inside of her thighs, tickling her, sending chills rushing through her 
body.
“Gods! Trent!” She let her head fall back, fighting to not slide onto the 
controls of the ship when he kissed the most sensitive part of her body.
His tongue lapped at her juices. His warm mouth covered her cunt, sucking gently 
on her tender folds. She dug her fingers into his hair, holding him against her 
pussy, exploding as his tongue dipped into her heat.
Trent growled, the vibration sending her over the edge. He fucked her with his 
tongue, gliding in and out of her velvety heat.
He was like a starving man. The more she came, the more he wanted to devour her. 
She was so damned wet, her smooth folds covered with her cream. His cock hung 
heavily between his legs, burning with fever, craving to bury itself inside her 
tight holes. Lifting her legs, pulling her ass off the table, he ran his tongue 
from one hole to the other.
“Trent! Yes! Damn it.” She squirmed when he stroked the sensitive flesh around 
her ass.
He raised himself over her, nibbling on one of her puckered nipples. She wrapped 
her arms around him, her legs clamping down around his waist. But she couldn’t 
move her pussy to his cock. He controlled the situation. She would have him when 
he said so.
“Don’t run from me again,” he whispered into her mouth as he kissed her.
She gasped for air, tasting herself on his lips. “I won’t.” She couldn’t fight 
him right now. He wasn’t playing fair but she couldn’t do anything about it. 
Need swirled through her with too much intensity to defy him at the moment.
“Trust me,” he said, and then positioned his cock at the entrance of her cunt. 
“I will have your trust.”
She blinked, hearing him ask for trust. She’d never trusted a damn soul as long 
as she’d been alive. Not even her mother. And she’d loved her mother. He didn’t 
ask for obedience. He didn’t demand her submission. He wanted trust.
“I’ll try,” she conceded, and then her eyes fluttered shut when his cock slid 
deep inside her.
He knew he’d gotten the most honest answer he could get from her. And that was a 
start. She wasn’t his. Not completely—not yet. But he was willing to make the 
effort to show her she needed him. Because damn it to all of the hells, he 
needed her.
He thrust deep inside her, moist heat surging through his cock, flooding his 
senses, filling him with a need he wasn’t sure he could conquer. There was no 
getting enough of Dawn. Her tight cunt wrapped around his cock, tight pussy 
muscles gripping him, urging him deeper into her fire.
Trent moved slowly at first, every muscle in his body hard with constraint. He 
watched her head fall back, her long black hair fan around her. Full breasts, so 
perfectly round and swollen, bounced up and down, tormenting him as he built up 
momentum.
She soaked him with her cum. It trickled down his balls, torturing him, coating 
him while she exploded again. He loved watching her mouth form a perfect small 
round shape, her lips puckered with her silent cry when she orgasmed. Her hands 
were spread on either side of the counter, bracing herself, her body arched in 
front of him displaying what had to be the most perfect woman in the solar 
system.
“You are so damned wet,” he breathed, pulling his cock out of her, seeing her 
white cream wrapped around his shaft.
“No. Give me more,” she whimpered, reaching for him, not wanting him to stop. 
He’d been stroking her into paradise and she didn’t want it to ever end.
Trent watched her as he fingered her cunt. It was on fire, drenched and 
pulsating with a heat that would suffocate him. Running his fingers down to her 
ass, he watched her eyes open when he pressed against her tight entrance. He 
moved his fingers again to her cunt, lubing his fingers with her cum, and then 
moving again to her ass.
Dawn knew what he wanted. She’d never given her ass to anyone. Hell, she’d never 
given her body to anyone—not willingly. Letting out a breath, she watched the 
desire etched in his expression. His finger coated her ass, the tender flesh 
puckering against his touch. It tickled and at the same time created a pressure 
inside her, an intensity that grew while he dipped his finger into her dark 
crevice. The growing ache inside of her enflamed out of control when he 
finger-fucked her ass.
“Take me there,” she decided, wanting to know if his cock would feel better than 
his fingers, and having a feeling that it probably would.
Trent watched the muscles in her tummy constrict while he coated her ass. It was 
a tight hole, and he knew he needed to take time to make it moist, soften the 
muscles so he wouldn’t hurt her. His cock throbbed eagerly, fighting with his 
brain, needing to be back inside her.
“Have you been fucked in the ass before?” he asked.
She shook her head. “No. No, but please.” Need burned through her so hard she 
could hardly speak.
“No one’s touched you like this?” He dipped his finger into her ass again, 
smoothing her cum against the entrance. It was so damned tight that he was 
inclined to believe her. But for a sex slave, to never have taken it in the ass, 
it was a tough one to swallow.
“No interrogations. Just fuck me.” She bucked against his hand, sliding his 
finger deeper into her tight virgin hole, a sharp pain that quickly eased some 
of the pressure building in her that stole her breath.
She stared up at him wide-eyed.
“Have they?” He wanted to know everything about her, every time another man had 
touched her.
“No,” she cried out, riding his finger now, thrusting her hips up and down while 
he hovered over her, holding his hand in place.
He allowed her the small pleasure from his finger, moving it slowly in and out 
of her ass while feeling her muscles loosen, grow accustomed to him being inside 
of her there.
“My cock is much bigger than my finger. It will hurt at first.” He believed her. 
It amazed him that her sexual experiences were so limited and he made a mental 
note to question her further about it later.
Dawn remembered hearing the other slaves swear how wonderful anal sex was. She’d 
never believed them, thought them fools. But now, the way Trent touched her, the 
fire he’d created inside her, the pressure that grew every time he thrust his 
finger in her ass, made her want to try it like she never had before.
“I want you to fuck my ass.” She grabbed his face, pulling him to her, and 
kissed him.
It wasn’t the aggressive demanding kiss they’d shared before. This time he moved 
over her mouth sensually, his fingers moving in and out of her cunt, and then 
back to her ass, continuing to moisten her hole while exploring her mouth 
tenderly with his tongue.
Dawn couldn’t think straight. A tenderness she hadn’t seen yet in Trent surfaced 
while he fondled the most private part of her body. She wanted to see more of 
this side of him, know this man who was such a mystery, such a challenge. He was 
such a complex person. And even now, on the edge of her orgasm, she learned that 
he had a gentle side to him. He wouldn’t force anything on her, and he didn’t 
want to hurt her.
“If it hurts, I’ll stop,” he promised, so amazed by her sexual curiosity and 
that part of her was in fact a virgin.
Dawn watched his intent expression, his gaze never leaving hers, while he 
positioned his cock at her ass. She sucked in her breath. He was right, it was a 
lot bigger. His swollen cock head stretched her tight hole.
“Trent,” she gasped, gripping his arms when he slid into her ass, filling her 
like she’d never been filled before.
He came down over her again, showering her with kisses so gentle she wanted to 
cry. This was a man she’d never known before. He cared about her, didn’t want to 
hurt her. That meant more to her than she realized it would. Something shattered 
inside her at the same time the sharp pain rushed through her. She shuddered, 
unable to stop the tidal wave of desire that coursed through her.
Trent began moving in and out of her ass, his cum-soaked cock easing the path 
while he buried himself inside her tight hole. She was so hot she’d burn him 
alive and he knew he wouldn’t last long inside her.
“Do you like it?” he asked, a gentle whisper stroking her cheek.
“I think so,” she told him, so many nerve endings going off inside her, so many 
new sensations rippling through her that she could hardly breathe. “Yes. Yes. 
It’s good.”
She wanted him to go faster, fuck her harder. He moved too slowly. The burning 
sensation disappeared and a new feeling swarmed through her, a pressure growing 
that she ached to have released. She reached down, stroking her pussy, more cum 
soaking her fingers and dripping to her ass.
Trent saw Dawn possibly for the first time, her true colors, her true nature. 
She was a woman eager to explore life, to take on the unknown, to embrace it. 
Nothing would hold her back, not even him. He fucked her harder, so turned on by 
this woman underneath him he could hardly stand it. His cock swelled inside her. 
She cried out, the sound so sensual it took over his senses. He exploded, 
filling her tight ass with his cum.
And then easing out of her, he lifted her into her arms, her body damp against 
his. There was no way he could voice the feelings surging through him at the 
moment. And for once, Dawn seemed content to be quiet. Silently, he carried her 
into the shower.
Chapter Thirteen
 
The cool air of Greneen felt good against Trent’s skin. He noticed Dawn kept her 
arms wrapped around her chest, the warmth of Poltar having made her blood thin. 
Her breasts pressed together, adding to her cleavage visible through her shirt.
Getting used to the Gren climate would take a while. The planet wasn’t as bright 
as Poltar, being a fair distance from the twin suns that it orbited. While most 
habitants of the Ryclox solar system visited all the planets fairly regularly 
during their lifetime, Dawn wouldn’t have had that advantage. She squinted in 
the semi-dark afternoon, trying to take everything in.
Trent knew since he’d docked officially and gone through proper debriefing, it 
wouldn’t take his family long to learn he was home. The traditional homecoming 
meal would be prepared. It would dishonor his family not to attend.
There were matters that weighed on his mind though. Dawn had obtained the Bortan 
chips, sought him out and dumped them on him. She had a top-of-the-line ship, 
one her father had to have a hand in obtaining. And Zahn Corl would want to see 
Dawn soon. Whatever information she needed to give the man, Trent would hear 
first.
“No one is carrying a weapon,” Dawn whispered, having resented leaving her own 
lasers at the landing bay after coming down to the planet on the carrier. “And 
all the women are in dresses.”
They moved slowly through the busy streets of Bin, the small community that made 
most of its money off of tourists. Dawn looked from one window to the other, 
taking in everything she could while they hovered over the street filled with 
other carriers and gliders. Trent continued to stare ahead, either lost in 
thought, or simply indifferent to the community he’d probably seen hundreds of 
times.
“It’s tradition.” Trent glanced at Dawn while she looked out of the window next 
to her. Her hair was still damp after showering and her clothing hugged her 
narrow waist and firm breasts. His cock stirred in his pants. Already, he wanted 
her again. “Greneen’s military orbits the planet. We have no need for defense 
here. And the women wear the customary dress when in public. At home or at work 
they would wear pants. The men wear capes in public. At home they would dress 
differently.”
“So much tradition and customs,” Dawn mused, noting that even the shop signs 
were lined neatly above each store. Everyone appeared at peace, relaxed. Those 
who walked along the paths lining the stores showed no signs of stress. “You’re 
a race of hidden emotions.”
Dense growths of trees, thick and twisted branches reaching toward the dark blue 
sky, contrasted the order of the town.
“These are your people too.”
She met his gaze with a broad smile this time, her emotions so raw, so natural. 
They belied her Gren appearance.
“I know,” she said, not hiding how that pleased her.
“When are you supposed to meet your father?” He noted suspicion, or was it 
worry, taint her expression before she looked down at her hands.
“As soon as possible, I’m sure. He wasn’t planning on meeting me when I docked.” 
She looked out of the windows in front of her. “Is that where we are going?”
“No. I have a home in Cran, a town not too far from here. We’ll go there first.” 
He hadn’t been home in quite a while and had made arrangements during docking 
for the house to be aired out for their arrival. More than likely, a messenger 
from the House of Dar would be there to greet them as well. That was customary.
“You’re taking me to your home?” Dawn looked up at him wide-eyed, immediately 
curious what Trent’s home would look like. From what she knew of the man’s 
history, he couldn’t have been here anytime recently. He’d been too busy 
battling the Bortan. “I need to contact Zahn Corl then.”
“Agreed.” Trent nodded to her comm attached to a clip on her belt. “Go ahead.”
She fingered the comm, not releasing it. “I will…” she hesitated. She wished she 
knew what her father thought of Trent. There was no way he wouldn’t respect him, 
appreciate Trent for all of the efforts he’d made against the Bortan. But more 
importantly, what did Trent think of Zahn Corl? He hadn’t said he’d despised the 
man.
Inhaling, she knew what mattered most right now was that she protect her own 
ass. She had no home, no way of providing for herself. And she wouldn’t simply 
go with Trent to his home because she ached for him. And damn it if she didn’t 
want him again already. Her body was tender from fucking like she never had 
before. Maybe it was from all the sex she’d deprived herself of over the years. 
And watching people fornicate around her so much. Maybe that was the reason she 
craved to be back in Trent’s arms, feeling his hard cock deep inside her.
“What are you hiding, Dawn?” he asked, curious now why she didn’t want to call 
Zahn Corl in his presence.
“Nothing,” she answered quickly, too quickly.
Trent raised an eyebrow. “Then let him know you are with me. Tell him where you 
are going. Don’t give the man any reason to think you have secrets.”
He was right—again. She needed to stand up to Zahn Corl the same way she did 
everyone else. “Maybe I should tell him to come see me.”
There was only one problem. Zahn Corl wouldn’t want Trent Dar to know he 
instigated the theft of the Bortan chips. Her being known as a thief wouldn’t 
bother anyone. She stole for the cause of her people. She wasn’t sure how Trent 
would react if he found out who had backed the plot, or how she’d obtained them.
Trent nodded, pleased that she had no intention of keeping him a secret from her 
father. Because he had no intention of keeping the knowledge from Corl. First 
chance he had, Trent planned on contacting the man himself. There was a matter 
of Bortan chips to discuss, among other things.
They were out of Bin now, and Trent accelerated, flying higher off the ground as 
he headed toward Cran. Dawn secured her comm to her head and then took a breath 
before speaking her father’s name, which would activate the call.
She was all too aware of Trent sitting next to her, giving her a side-glance 
while monitoring the controls of the glider. Heat burned through her with him 
next to her, close enough to sense his power, but far enough that she’d have to 
lean to touch him.
Finding her father had been the highlight of her life. His apparent acceptance 
of her gave her confidence she didn’t know existed in her, allowed her to move 
among those who, if they’d known her life as a slave, would have treated her 
poorly instead of with respect. Her strong Gren looks aided in making others 
hesitate in mouthing off to her.
Up until several days ago, that had been enough to make her happy, make her feel 
she could make something out of her life. But now, with Trent in her life, she 
wanted more. She wanted his respect—she wanted him.
Dawn licked her lips, speaking her father’s name quickly into the 
voice-activated comm, refusing to let Trent see how nervous she was.
“Where are you?” her father said in form of greeting.
“On my way to Cran.” She wondered if her father knew Trent had a home there. Her 
tummy twisted in knots knowing she was dealing with two very powerful men here. 
“When would you like to meet?”
“Your homecoming meal is planned for this evening. We can talk then.” His calm 
tone reminded her of Trent, a voice of authority, not accustomed to being 
questioned.
“Homecoming meal?” she blurted out, a cold sweat suddenly spreading over her 
body. “For me?”
“You are family, and you are coming home. It’s our custom, Dawn,” Zahn said, 
patiently.
Trent reached out, gripping her leg. “Accept the invitation,” he told her 
quietly.
“Bring Trent Dar along with you.” Zahn Corl made no qualms about the fact that 
he knew the two of them were together. “We will see you when the suns set.”
With that he severed the connection, leaving her heart racing in her chest.
“He wants you to come too,” she said, wondering what they would be walking into 
when they arrived at Zahn Corl’s home.
“Good.” Trent wasn’t surprised that Zahn Corl would want to see him too. More 
than likely, Corl already knew the specifics of their attack of the Bortan on 
Poltar. And if the man’s contacts were as solid as Trent guessed, he probably 
knew he and Dawn had come down to the planet together.
“Tell me about a homecoming meal.” Dawn didn’t want any surprises.
“If a part of the family is gone and returns, a celebratory meal is prepared. 
They reenter into the family.” He didn’t know what Zahn Corl had in mind for his 
bastard daughter.
If the man claimed her, then it would be Corl’s obligation to take her in, give 
her a home. After all, Dawn was a single woman. Grens stood true to century-old 
tradition. Families remained strong, united, the head of the house having 
ultimate say over the other family members.
“I’m not part of his family though.” Dawn wrinkled her brow, frowning as she 
stared at the countryside that passed them, the dark shadows from thick rows of 
trees giving the area a mysterious quality.
“Yes. You are his blood. The Corl family is powerful, strong. Zahn Corl will 
more than likely acknowledge you and you will take your place in the family.” 
Trent would have to research the Corl family line. One thing he would do when 
they arrived at his house.
“Take my place?” She made a snorting sound. “I was a sex slave. And I won’t be 
enslaved again.”
“It will do you well to get this slavery notion out of your head. You’re half 
Gren, half Poltarian. You’re a free woman and shall remain that way.” He glanced 
over at her.
Long black strands surrounded her beautiful face. Her expression was serious, 
proud. Her gray eyes contrasted the picture making her even more alluring, the 
temptress. The way she ran her tongue over her lips, moistening them, making 
them glisten the way his cum would on her mouth, made him ache to take her in 
his arms. She was so determined to take this solar system on all by herself, and 
so convinced she would have a battle on her hands at every corner. It would be 
hard for her, being the bastard of Zahn Corl, and an ex-sex slave. Gaining 
respect would be a challenge. Dawn would be able to handle it though. In fact, 
he pitied the fool who stood in her way.
His muscles hardened again at the thought that Zahn Corl would use her to 
further his plots. It was a touchy situation, especially if her father brought 
Dawn into his house. Trent would have to go through Corl just to see her. 
Somehow, he would see to it that she remained with him. The idea of leaving her 
at the House of Corl didn’t sit well with him.
“You’re damned straight I’ll remain that way,” she said through her teeth, 
shooting him a side-glance. “So don’t get any ideas.”
He took his time glancing at her, letting his gaze stroll down her body. Fire 
rushed through her, his penetrating stare making her want to slide closer, 
nuzzle into him, feel that hard body against hers.
“I don’t have ideas. I have plans,” he told her, his gaze resting somewhere 
around her breasts.
Dawn’s breath caught in her throat. She wouldn’t let him see how he unnerved 
her, sent her body into torturous flames, creating an aching need that throbbed 
furiously in her cunt.
“Well, I have plans too,” she retorted, although for the life of her she 
couldn’t get her thoughts organized enough to know what she would do within the 
next five minutes.
“What are your plans?” he didn’t hesitate in asking.
She had several actually, the primary one meeting with her father. After that 
she’d dreamed of traveling, helping others who suffered as she had. She would 
need contacts and that was something she’d hoped to talk to her father about.
But then she’d met Trent. Now she wasn’t sure what would happen. He’d chased her 
across the solar system, and then asked for her trust. That had boggled her 
brain trying to figure out what he meant by that. She had too much to sort out 
in her brain before she shared any of that with him.
She returned his gaze, taking her time checking him out. From his dark gaze, 
down to his taut stomach, and then lower, staring at his crotch, before slowly 
letting her lashes flutter before looking him in the eyes, she took him in. This 
wasn’t a man to play with, and she knew she danced with fire.
Dawn reached for him, running her finger over the hard bulging muscles in his 
arm. “Maybe I am deciding what to do with you.”
Buildings began to appear around them. Trent slowed, lowering the carrier to the 
standard distance flown over ground while in a community.
“Sounds like I’m hindering your next course of action.” And he would know what 
that next plan of action would be.
She leaned toward him slightly, letting her fingers trace a path over his thigh. 
“That’s not what I meant,” she whispered suggestively.
Trent grabbed her hand, preventing her from getting any closer to his cock. 
“You’re playing with fire,” he growled, her touch charging him with waves of 
hard-core lust and need.
He focused on navigating the carrier. Cran hadn’t changed much since he’d left. 
A few more Jaca trees had sprouted, but that was about it. It took no effort 
flying over the streets to the House of Dar.
What stole his concentration was the steady pulse in Dawn’s wrist, her gentle 
bone structure, which contradicted her tough exterior. Born to be a warrior and 
forced to be a slave, she was a mixture of predator and prey. The moisture on 
her palm was the only physical indication that leaving the only home she’d known 
made her nervous.
He’d been away from his home for a while, fighting alongside friends who lived 
on the planet Benox before joining the military. Being the firstborn son, the 
homecoming meal would be an occasion. His sister led the House of Dar right now. 
From what he’d heard, she managed the home well, keeping the Dar name strong.
Holding Dawn’s hand in his, her warm soft skin doing a number to his senses, he 
fought to keep his thoughts straight, not let her seduce him instead of telling 
him what she had in mind when coming here. And if those prodding fingers of hers 
got anywhere near his cock, he would lose his ability to focus on anything other 
than fucking her again.
“I know what I’m doing,” she purred, straightening her fingers in his grasp, 
managing to stroke his thigh again before he pulled her hand to his chest.
“And so do I.” He gave her a hard look. “You will tell me why you came here, 
what your intentions were when you left so suddenly for Greneen.”
Trent slowed and turned down the road toward the House of Dar. The homes that 
were scattered around the rolling hills owned by the family were similar in 
structure.
“This is where you live?” she asked, ignoring his demand and looking out his 
window toward the large house in the distance.
It seemed to ramble on forever, made of pale wood with large windows that 
indicated there were several floors. It was a prestigious-looking house, fitting 
to Trent.
“That is the House of Dar. When I allowed my sister to take charge of the house, 
I moved into one of the dwelling homes.” He offered no further explanation. 
“What will you say to your father?”
She looked in front of her when suddenly he stopped the carrier. Letting go of 
her hand, he released the doors, the cool air flooding her senses when they slid 
open on either side of her. Ahead of them was a small home, simple. Built of the 
same material as the larger house, it sat hidden among a cluster of small trees, 
their branches thick and twisted giving them a gnarled look. Through the trees 
she saw several other houses similar to this one.
The door to the house slid open and an older Gren appeared. The man nodded 
solemnly.
“Trent of the House of Dar, welcome home.” He stood without emotion in front of 
Trent, his gaze not swaying her direction. “Already the homecoming meal is 
planned for your return to your homeland.”
If she didn’t know better, she would guess he didn’t see her standing next to 
Trent. The older man’s moist black eyes remained attentive on Trent. His attire 
was simple—black trousers with the typical shirt and a long cape that covered 
his aging frame. Streaks of silver ran through his black hair giving him a 
dignified look, too dignified for a servant—at least a servant like the ones 
Dawn had known.
Trent responded with a gruff tone. “Let the House of Dar know that the 
homecoming meal will have to be in two sunsets. I have plans this evening.”
The man nodded and turned toward a path that worked its way through the small 
trees.
Dawn followed Trent silently toward the house, taking everything in around her. 
Long narrow windows offered the only intrusion to the simple wooden home. It was 
a pale green, contrasting the darkness that seemed to surround them—dark trees, 
dark blue sky, even the dirt beneath her boots resembled the color of Trent’s 
hair and eyes.
Trent pressed his hand to the pad next to the door. The door slid open without 
ceremony. It shut just as silently behind them.
For a moment, Dawn’s eyes wouldn’t adjust. She was blinded by darkness. Trent’s 
arms came around her, pressing her against a cold hard surface behind her that 
she could only assume was the wall.
“You will not enter the House of Corl without preparation.” His mouth was 
against her forehead, his lips brushing over her skin. “The homecoming meal is a 
formal celebration and you will arrive prepared. You will tell me your 
intentions now.”
Her heart raced in her chest. Trent pressed his body against hers, making it 
impossible for her to think straight. Slowly her eyes adjusted.
“What do you mean?” She needed a moment to get her thoughts in order.
Trent wasn’t playing fair. He knew his body drove her crazy. Now he was using it 
against her. The hardness of his shaft, pressed against her hip, told her he was 
as aroused as she was.
There wasn’t time for games. In a matter of hours he would need to have her at 
the House of Corl. Within that time he needed to have Dawn properly attired and 
briefed on how to present herself.
Grabbing her by the arm he pulled her toward his bedroom. “Lights. Midday 
brightness,” he told the voice-activated computer that ran the house.
Instantly the house filled with light. The rooms cast long shadows, the light 
dim in comparison to what Dawn would have considered midday light. But she 
didn’t have time to take in her surroundings, get a good look at the place that 
Trent called home. He had her wrist, pulling her from the wall and nearly 
yanking her off her balance as he dragged her through his home.
“What do you mean?” she cried out, almost tripping over her boots trying to keep 
up with his hurried movements. “I don’t have any intentions.”
It took a minute to realize she was in his bedroom. A large bed filled the room, 
other furniture lining the wall that she barely had a chance to glance at. He 
threw her forward, making her trip over her own feet and barely catch her 
balance before falling on the bed. She managed to stand, turning to face him, 
outraged suddenly that he would manhandle her this way.
“Don’t you dare throw your weight around with me.” She straightened, her entire 
body shaking with an energy to fight him if need be. There was no way she could 
tell him she needed to report to Zahn Corl about the Bortan chips. Trent 
couldn’t know her father instigated her stealing them. “My business with my 
father is personal.”
“And now your personal matters affect me.” Trent grabbed her before she could 
react.
His words hung in the air between them. Dawn simply stared at him for a moment, 
realizing the extent of what he’d just said. Trent saw her pause, and for a 
moment could only stare at her. Never before had he laid claim on any woman.
The moment was a brief one however. Dawn gave herself a mental shake, refusing 
to allow his statement to lower her defenses. Falling in love with this man 
might jeopardize her mission. And she wouldn’t let go of all she’d obtained 
because he demanded it.
She tried to strike out but couldn’t move fast enough. He lifted her, tossing 
her onto his bed. The way she fell, her legs spread and her arms bracing her 
body, propping her up with her long black hair fanning around her, had him so 
aroused he could hardly think straight. He could fuck her right now, take her 
right there on the bed, giving no thought to the anger that so obviously surged 
from her.
“Let me make this real simple for you.” He stood over her, watching her glare at 
him, giving her time to calm down and to bring under control the carnal need 
that rose within him, threatening to consume him. “You need to decide right now 
who you trust. It’s me or Zahn Corl. Because once you enter that homecoming 
meal, there will be no turning back.”
Chapter Fourteen
 
Dawn jumped off the bed, seeing that Trent wasn’t going to stop her, and 
realizing it might be her only chance to gain the upper hand. She plunged her 
finger into his chest, wanting to clobber him, but her rational thoughts told 
her that might not be her best move.
“You listen to me, Trent Dar,” she hissed. “I don’t need a protector, or an 
owner. You will not control me.”
Trent moved closer so that he was inches from her, tension rippling through his 
body. He seemed to grow before her eyes, looking down at her, which not many men 
could do. His expression was hard, his gaze so intense a heat rushed through 
her, burning her cheeks, settling in her pussy.
“Tell me you wish to leave,” he whispered. “Tell me you don’t need me.”
He didn’t touch her yet stood so close their bodies almost brushed against each 
other. He didn’t move. All he did was focus on her with those non-blinking black 
eyes, dark hair bordering his brooding expression.
Stubbornness consumed her. “I’ve never needed anyone.”
Trent wanted to grab her and shake some sense into her bullheaded brain. At the 
same time he needed to throw her onto the bed, rip her clothes off, and fuck her 
silly.
She must have sensed his aggression getting the best of him. Looking away, down 
toward his torso, she blew out a breath. The side of the bed pressed against her 
legs while he pinned her with his body. She tried turning, attempting to move 
around him. He grabbed her arm before he could stop himself.
Her gaze was on fire when she glared at him, his hand branding her arm with a 
fire that she sensed tore through his system. “Accept the fact that there are 
things you cannot know,” she managed with a hoarse whisper, managing to hold her 
ground with him.
“I will know everything.” He pulled her to him, wrapping her in his arms before 
she could try and get away from him. “I will know where you got that ship. You 
will tell me how you found your father. And I will know every detail about these 
Bortan chips.”
Her heart thudded loudly in her chest. He was serious. Licking her lips, she 
fought for answers to appease him. But he’d brought the game to a head. Plain 
and simple, he demanded answers right now. She wasn’t sure what to do. There was 
no way she would betray her father. She didn’t wish to betray Trent either, but 
she had to stand up to him.
“And what if I won’t tell you?” she demanded, fighting a shiver that threatened 
to race through her. “Will you throw me out?”
“And if I do?” One arm kept her pinned to him, her strength no match against 
his. He reached up with his other hand and took a strand of hair, wrapping it in 
his fingers. The act was compassionate, belying the way he held her in a 
stronghold. “How will you dress for your homecoming meal? Do you know how to 
act? I’m sure you want to make a good impression on your new family. Will you 
know how to do that? And after that ceremony, what will you do then?”
The way he studied her locks of hair in his hand gave her the shivers. His head 
was lowered, stroking her hair with his thumb. But when he met her eyes, 
captured her gaze, she saw the warrior, primed for attack, seeing her 
weaknesses, and narrowing in on them.
She pushed against his chest, and was surprised, and a bit disappointed, when he 
let her go.
“This isn’t fair,” she sighed, yanking her hair from his hand with a quick 
gesture and pushing it behind her back. “Answering your questions will mean 
betraying another. I can’t do that.”
“And what do you know of Zahn Corl?” he asked her. “Has he stood by your side in 
battle? Has he defended you to his military? Has he fucked you?”
She raised her hand to strike. He grabbed her wrist before she could slap his 
face.
“Don’t ever imply such a thing. I’m not now, nor have I ever been any man’s 
whore.” She couldn’t believe he would even suggest such a thing.
“I believe you.” And he did. Her past had him curious. But that was information 
she would give him at another time. “You need to decide who to trust, Dawn. You 
need to decide where your loyalties lie.”
“I bought my ship with money from Ryl Plantation,” she snapped out, offering as 
much of the truth as she could. “And I’ve known Zahn Corl was my father since I 
was a child. My mother told me in spite of orders from the master not to do so. 
As for the Bortan chips…” she hesitated for just a second. “I stole them… I went 
to their home planet, Bort, and I stole them.”
Trent raised an eyebrow. “I would have believed I had your trust until your last 
comment. You’ve never been to Bort.”
“Oh, haven’t I?” She put her hands on her hips, silently daring him to prove her 
wrong.
“No. You haven’t. You forget, my dear, I’ve manned your ship. I’ve seen the logs 
of where you’ve traveled. Unless you took a less powerful ship into enemy 
territory, and somehow made it out alive, that ship of yours has definitely 
never orbited the planet Bort.” Trent shook his head, aching to touch her again 
but standing his ground. “I know the statistics all too well. Very few ships 
travel past Greneen to the planet Bort. And even fewer ships make it back.”
Dawn worried her lower lip with her teeth, studying him. He’d give her this, she 
stood up to him better than most warriors he’d commanded in his time. He watched 
her soft gray eyes. Tall and proud, and so damned beautiful, he guessed her mind 
worked over possible arguments. He could almost see the thoughts churning. Her 
gaze never faltered, her stance barely shifted.
“I can’t tell you any more.” She knew sharing the truth of her accomplice would 
incriminate her father. He’d trusted her when he’d introduced her to those who 
would help in the mission.
There wasn’t much she could share about the woman who’d helped her obtain the 
Bortan chips. Zahn Corl had arranged the meeting, and Dawn had shown up where 
and when she was directed. The woman hadn’t shared much about herself, an 
intentional move Dawn had guessed.
“Can’t. Or won’t.”
“I won’t.” She spoke so quietly, but with so much conviction.
Dawn would make a damn good warrior. Trent nodded, turning from her and heading 
into the living room. In time he would know all of her secrets. There was no 
arguing that decision. Every minute he was with her, he wanted her more. No 
warrior would have dared deny him information he sought out. Trent had the power 
to ruin a person with a single command. Dawn had so much to lose, yet she stood 
up to him, challenged him, provoked him. She didn’t care so much about herself 
as she protected those she barely knew. It was an admirable trait—one of many he 
was learning she possessed.
Dawn followed him into the living room, staring after him for a moment. It took 
longer for her breathing to return to normal. Had she really just stood up to 
Trent Dar and won? No way. He was up to something. And the urge to run after 
him, find out his plot, swarmed through her with a vengeance.
She glanced around the room, noting the shiny surface of the long glass table in 
the center of the room. High-backed chairs surrounded the table. The room was 
designed for meetings and not entertaining. More than likely any social 
functions would take place in the House of Dar she’d seen upon entering the 
grounds. She couldn’t picture Trent Dar doing much entertaining anyway. At least 
not in this room.
Glancing again toward the bedroom, a thought settled through her that he might 
have enjoyed a lady or two in that room. He wasn’t her man. She’d pretty much 
just told him that, yet a bitter taste crept into her mouth when she pictured 
him enjoying another woman.
He wasn’t her man, she repeated to herself.
She scowled, but then looked up when she heard his deep baritone muttering 
something. He didn’t look at her but moved past her again, returning to his 
room.
“I’ll need a gown for the homecoming meal,” she heard him say when she reached 
the doorway.
Shadows passed over Trent’s profile as he stood half facing her. The suns barely 
offered light through the long windows on either side of his bed. And the light 
in the room was dimmed, probably to the brightness most Gren enjoyed. A planet 
so far from the suns with a people whose eyes had adjusted to living in 
shadow-filled days and pitch-black nights. Yet even in the shadows she enjoyed 
the view of the powerful man before her.
Tall and dark, powerful-looking and dangerous, he showed no emotion while 
speaking to the unknown person at the other end of the transmission. He might as 
well be ordering ships to battle as requesting a dress for a social affair. His 
expression remained the same. Relaxed yet in control. His features strong, 
forbidding, and a challenge. She could enjoy many days learning this man.
He turned his attention to her when he pulled the comm from his ear.
“Come here.” It was an order.
And one she found herself obeying without thought. How interesting that she’d 
spent a lifetime rebelling against such commands. Yet two simple words uttered 
from Trent’s mouth had her moving into the room to stand in front of him.
“I would dishonor you if I didn’t properly prepare you for the function we’re 
about to attend.” His tone had changed, relaxed, his words spoken with something 
almost resembling tenderness. “It isn’t customary to introduce you to members of 
the House of Dar informally. But under the circumstances, I feel it’s 
necessary.”
Trent saw that she knew little about the ways of his people. More than likely 
her father had been amused by her wild ways, her untamed nature. A Gren in the 
purest form—without the upbringing of what is proper and what isn’t. In a way he 
envied her that. Dawn was truly free. But Trent wouldn’t have her meet the Corl 
family, be presented to the table, without her understanding what she would 
endure.
“I won’t beg for them to like me.” She’d taken on that stubborn expression of 
hers, her chin sticking out as she straightened.
“I can only imagine what you would beg for,” he said, his tone turning thick 
with need he couldn’t keep buried.
They didn’t have much time. And there was even less time they would have alone. 
Already the suns dipped low toward the horizon. The first one would set soon.
Dawn looked up at him, the need he felt tightening in his groin matching the 
glazed desire that spread over her pretty gray eyes.
“I’m not going to beg for anything.” She dropped her gaze, taking in the bulging 
muscles that pressed against his shirt. “I go after what I want, and leave 
behind what I don’t want.”
“It’s that simple, is it?” He was amused.
She was so damned cocky. Yet underneath her hardened shell he saw a woman, 
vulnerable and in unknown waters. She gloried in the challenge of an adventure. 
But he also saw her fear of the unknown, the ache that came from an unknown 
source deep inside her to learn from every experience she took on. That appealed 
to him. Who was he fooling—it more than appealed to him. Every minute he was 
with her he ached to know her better, figure out what made her tick, learn every 
inch of her, inside and out.
Dawn caressed his chest, letting her fingers graze over solid muscle, feel the 
heat from touching him rush through her hands, up her arms, and course through 
her body.
Her fingers dragged over his shirt to his pants. Adrenaline already pumped 
through him. Her touch was like tiny spears scraping over him, puncturing 
through him, drugging him with a need that almost put him over the edge. He 
grabbed her wrists before she could touch his cock. Holding her so she couldn’t 
move, he stared into the source of her passion, burning alive in her gaze.
“And you think you can have whatever you wish?” he asked, his voice a hoarse 
whisper. His control was on edge. It would take nothing to toss her onto his 
bed, have his way with her. His cock burned inside his pants, throbbing 
furiously to be unbound, set free, buried in her heat.
“How do you know what I want?” she whispered, toying with him. Her voice had 
taken a husky, sultry edge that swept through him like a wildfire.
He released her hands, unable to prevent her from seeking out what she would.
She smiled with satisfaction, her hands cupping his cock, her fingers wrapping 
around his shaft through his pants.
“Free me, woman.” His eyes closed. There was no way he could stop her from doing 
what she wanted.
Her fingers were magic, caressing and stroking, taking over with her touch until 
his entire body was so hard that he couldn’t move. It took more energy than he 
thought to simply open his eyes. She had gone to her knees, nimbly working his 
pants until she released his cock. Holding it in her hands, she stared at it 
like it was a rare jewel, fondling it and running her fingers over it until he 
thought he would explode that very moment.
When he growled, fighting for control not to move, not to stop her from her 
investigation, she looked up at him and smiled. Her grin was sincere, so simple, 
her guard down for the moment. True happiness and peace made her expression 
glow. Her long black hair fanned down her back while soft gray eyes glowed in 
the evening light.
He held his breath when she stuck out her tongue, tasting the tip of his cock. 
Warm heat soared through him, the simple act forcing him to lock his knees so 
that he wouldn’t stumble, wouldn’t grab her, wouldn’t prevent her from having 
her way from him.
“Tell me if you like this,” she asked.
Her breath against his shaft while her fingers continued to stroke him had him 
in a trance.
“You’re doing fine so far,” he managed to say, blood rushing from his head, 
making him dizzy, while it surged through his veins to his cock.
She took him in her mouth, slowly at first, then tightening her lips around him 
and sucking him into her heat.
“By the gods. Damn woman.” He gripped her head, needing to hold on.
The heat from her mouth sent a raging fever through him, blood pulsing faster, 
making his cock throb while the pressure built.
Her tongue stroked his shaft, humidity soaring from her mouth while her lips 
began moving up and down over him. He couldn’t believe how incredibly good it 
was. Here was a woman who’d never had anal sex before, yet proved a master at 
sucking cock.
His fingers tangled through her hair, holding it in place, unable to hold still 
any longer. He wouldn’t dwell on how many times she’d done this. If she’d been 
forced, or had willingly given into the act. Her past wouldn’t consume him right 
now. She offered herself without coercion. He hadn’t asked her to do this. And 
she was doing such a damn good job. He wouldn’t suggest she stop. Far from it.
“Dawn,” he growled, watching her worship his cock with her mouth. “You’re 
incredible.”
His eyes rolled back, while his toes curled in his boots. Gripping her head, his 
hands tangled in her hair. He moved in and out of her mouth. Her lips stretched 
around him, not confining his movement but making it easier as the moist heat 
increased over his shaft.
When she moaned her response, the vibration of the sound sent a rush through 
him, reaching his soul. Her tongue worked magic as she took him in deeper, 
managing to reach the end of his shaft with her lips. She gagged, causing her 
throat to constrict around him. Dawn would suck the life right out of him. And 
he sure would die a happy man.
She pulled back, releasing his cock for a moment while she sucked in air. He 
tightened his grip on her head, but wouldn’t force himself back into her mouth. 
His brain might be mush at the moment, but her gift was pure ecstasy, and he 
wouldn’t abuse it.
“You’re going to come in my mouth,” she told him and then sucked him back into 
her heat.
Her command sent shivers through him, his muscles hardening throughout his body 
while his cock threatened to explode without warning.
Dawn relished how good Trent tasted and smelled. A mixture of Greneen leather 
added with the salty taste of his pre-cum had her eagerly devouring him. Already 
her lips were tingling from running them back and forth over his cock. She built 
up the momentum, visions of the women from Ryl Plantation giving head, filling 
her thoughts as she knelt in front of Trent.
Oddly enough, memories of being told to do this exact same act hit her as she 
enjoyed Trent’s cock. A specific time flooded through her thoughts without 
bidding.
She’d been young, not quite a full-grown woman but still a teenager, when the 
master had called her to him. Continually in and out of trouble, she’d expected 
another reprimand when entering his private chambers.
“You intrigue me,” she remembered him saying, his voice clear in her head even 
though he’d been dead for a while now.
She’d stood inside his private room, taking in the magnificent furniture, the 
expensive carpet that her bare feet sunk deep into, and the pricey fragrances 
that filled her nostrils.
All she remembered thinking at the time was that the money to gain all these 
wonderful items came from selling sex slaves. She despised him for that.
“You don’t know me,” she’d told him. Her mouth had gotten her in trouble more 
times than not, but she was unable to keep her thoughts to herself.
The master hadn’t smiled. He seldom did. Instead he’d told her to come to him. 
He’d used the same tone Trent had used just minutes ago, yet she’d reacted so 
differently. She dug her toes into the carpet and didn’t move.
When he’d pulled out his plump cock, squeezed the flesh with his thick, fat 
fingers, told her what he had wanted to do, she’d turned and run from the room. 
The thought of putting that thing in her mouth had made her want to puke. 
Knowing she would be punished for her act, she hadn’t returned to the small 
cottage she shared with her mother and several other sex slaves, but instead had 
raced to the large cooking house, where the slaves who prepared the meals worked 
around the clock.
Hiding behind rows of dried herbs, she consented to the fact she would sleep the 
night out there.
“Don’t tell me that is more comfortable than your bed.” One of the sex slaves, a 
boy about her age, had been in the room and she hadn’t even noticed him until it 
was too late.
“Shush and go away,” she had ordered him.
Either intrigued, or having nowhere to go, the boy hadn’t moved. Instead he came 
closer, his expression curious and aroused.
“Why do you run from sex?” he’d asked her. “Is there something wrong with you?”
The way he looked at her told Dawn he thought just the opposite.
“No one is going to tell me what to do,” she snapped at him.
He’d come closer until he had her cornered behind the bundles of herbs. She 
hadn’t been afraid of him. There was no way he could force her to do anything 
anyway. None of the other slaves could out power her. She’d grown up with all of 
them and was much stronger, not to mention taller than almost all of them.
“It’s your black hair, I think.” He’d reached out and touched her, gently 
stroking the side of her head.
She hadn’t moved. Fighting him off might bring attention to them. She would be 
able to make him go away with a harsh word, yet for some reason she couldn’t 
quite remember now, she hadn’t made him leave.
“You’re so different from the rest of us,” he had told her. “They will always 
call for you. And you know, sex isn’t so bad. Haven’t you ever tried it?”
She hadn’t. And he ended up being her first. The young sex slave proved to be 
fairly decent, kissing and fondling her behind the heady scent of the herbs.
Dawn cupped the full sacs that held Trent’s seed, feeling his skin move against 
her palm. She stroked him gently with her hand while taking him deep into her 
mouth, just to the point where she might gag, and then releasing him.
His fingers in her hair had her soaked. The way he held her, keeping her in 
place yet not confining her movements made her pussy pulse with a desire to come 
like she never had before.
“Are you ready for me?” Trent asked, his voice sounding like a growl.
She nodded, not wanting to stop what she was doing to answer him.
His cock swelled, veins protruding from his shaft, filling with blood. She 
stroked him with her tongue. And then hot liquid filled her mouth. It was so 
salty, so thick.
Trent came in her mouth, his body shaking while he exploded. She couldn’t drink 
all that he offered. Pulling him out, running her tongue over the tip while more 
white cream seeped from him, she looked up through blurred vision, smiling.
He pulled her to her feet, kissing her savagely and tasting his cum on her 
breath.
She pulled away, breaking off the kiss. “Don’t think you are the only one who 
can take charge here, Trent Dar. If that thought ever crosses your mind again, 
remember this moment.”
Chapter Fifteen
 
Trent was still lightheaded when the computer announced in its mechanical voice 
that someone wished to enter his home.
Dawn stood in front of him, her face flushed from her act. She looked around 
her, her expression turning to one of curiosity as the announcement filled the 
room.
“Seems it would be just as easy to knock,” she muttered.
Trent fought not to smile. He adjusted his pants, his cock still throbbing and 
damp from her mouth. More than anything he wished for time to enjoy every inch 
of her body, drink of her juices and pound that tight pussy of hers until she 
screamed. She looked so beautiful, her lips full and moist, her gaze glassy from 
sucking him off.
And he couldn’t help but enjoy her determination not to submit to him. She would 
learn to trust him, to see that he would always have the say in all situations. 
But he’d give her this moment, let her feel she had the upper hand. There wasn’t 
time right now to instruct her on how following his direction would only benefit 
her. He had to protect her, allow her to learn of the solar system she’d been 
sheltered from, in bits and pieces, and not jump in headfirst where she might be 
hurt.
Trent turned toward the door, working to clear his mind so that he could greet 
family who would bring appropriate clothing for Dawn to wear tonight.
“Oh.” His mind had regained control, even though his cock still throbbed for 
more of Dawn. “When my sister and her daughters greet you, your response will be 
simply, ‘the honor is mine’. “
Dawn’s lips tingled and her pants were damp at the crotch when Trent opened the 
door to his home. She didn’t understand what he’d just said, but mouthed the 
words silently, wondering how many times over the next few hours she would 
fumble their traditions. She didn’t see that it mattered much. After all, it was 
no secret that she was an outsider. They would accept her for who she was, or 
not at all. Nonetheless, she stood silently, trying to clear her expression and 
look presentable when Trent pushed the button on the wall and the door slid to 
the side.
A woman about as tall as she was, accompanied by two girls, entered, all 
carrying bundles.
“Welcome home, brother,” the woman said, putting her bundle down on the table in 
the living area and then embracing Trent.
“Ral, the welcome is appreciated.” Trent hugged his sister and then turned to 
the two girls. “Your daughters are turning into beautiful young women.”
The two girls glanced at their uncle, but then turned their attention to Dawn. 
Ral did the same. Dawn guessed they silently waited for introductions. She 
stood, trying not to fidget, glancing from one to the other child, and then to 
his sister.
They were curious about her. And in the dimly lit room, with the chill from 
outside still lingering, Dawn felt a chill rush through her. She didn’t sense 
animosity, but they weren’t eager to accept her either. She focused on the 
sister, Ral, taking in her long black hair, so similar to her own, her proud 
features, the unblinking black eyes. This was a race she was half of, their 
traits the same as hers, except for her gray eyes.
Glancing at the two girls, she knew they’d never been forced to do something 
hideous against their wishes. They didn’t look like they knew hunger, or fear. 
They didn’t look up at her but instead appeared to be studying her clothing, her 
boots, anything but her face.
Trent turned to her, clasping his hands behind his back.
“Allow me to present Dawn of Corl.” He might as well have been introducing two 
officers, his tone was so official.
Ral stepped forward, meeting Dawn’s gaze as they stared eye to eye. Dawn 
couldn’t read her expression. Years of confining emotions made her face a blank 
slate. She looked nothing like Trent, Dawn decided. Ral’s black lashes fluttered 
over her soft black eyes as she took in Dawn.
“Welcome to the House of Dar,” Ral said in a soft tone.
Dawn almost said thank you. She glanced at Trent but he focused on his sister.
“The honor is mine,” she said quietly, feeling silly that she had to mimic a 
line given to her.
Ral glanced down at her daughters who stood solemnly, both dressed in simple 
smocks that fell past their knees. Their black hair was covered with scarves, 
secured at the back of their necks. Both of them looked up at her curiously, not 
trained in keeping a blank expression yet. They cocked their heads and studied 
her, frowning. The taller of the two looked at her mother as if she would speak. 
Ral gave her an almost unnoticeable shake of her head, and the girl quickly 
looked at her boots.
“The dress we brought will be most attractive on you,” Ral said, nodding her 
head to the bundle on the table.
None of them moved and Dawn wondered if maybe Ral would stay to ensure that Dawn 
changed alone. The thought amused her that she would need to have her modesty 
protected. After a moment she reached for the bundle.
“Thank you,” she said. “I’ve never been to one of these homecoming meals before 
and Trent wanted me to wear something other than this.” She gestured at her 
attire, which up until now had suited her every adventure.
Ral nodded, again not showing any indication that she agreed, or disagreed with 
Dawn’s comment. Since none of them protested, Dawn turned and went back into 
Trent’s room to change.
“Her eyes look funny,” one of the children commented, and was immediately 
shushed by her mother.
Dawn fought back a bout of insecurity. Her mother had been a good woman. None of 
them had chosen to be born into slavery, and she wouldn’t regret her heritage 
just because it made her different. She was free now, and she would gain respect 
for who she was. Besides, there was nothing she could do about her gray eyes.
The dress didn’t quite fit right, hanging a bit far over her shoulders, and the 
length of the skirt almost swaying to the ground. Whoever this had been designed 
for was even taller than Dawn. When she reentered the living area, Trent sat 
alone at the table, appearing lost in thought as he appeared to study the 
darkness through the windows.
Trent stared at her for a long moment when she appeared before him, looking 
awkward in the dress as if that type of clothing wasn’t something she was used 
to wearing.
“I know. It’s too big.” She gripped the folds of the skirt, the material 
wrinkling in her hands.
“Turn around.” She was stunning in the dress, obviously more so than she 
realized. “It’s supposed to fit loosely. You are an unmated woman and on Greneen 
we protect women who haven’t taken a man.”
She wrinkled her nose at him. “Seems I’ve done a fair bit of taking over the 
past few days,” she said, and then licked her lips giving him a grin that made 
his cock spring to life.
He turned from her before the temptation to take her in his arms overwhelmed 
him. “It’s time to leave.”
She scowled as she followed him out of the door, his long black cape swooping 
around him adding to his mystique. Sometimes he was too rigid. It made her want 
to taunt him more just to see his emotions surface. But she kept her peace, 
thoughts of what to expect out of the evening making butterflies spring to life 
in her stomach.
The House of Corl was actually halfway around the planet from the House of Dar. 
The landscape didn’t change much during the flight. Trent kept the carrier close 
to the ground, although in the fading light Dawn couldn’t see much out the 
windows. Thick trees covered the planet, and she knew from studying Greneen that 
most of its water was underground.
By the time he slowed at the entrance leading to the large house, Dawn wished 
she had questioned Trent more about what to expect. Surprisingly though, he 
didn’t lecture her on how to behave, or what to say or not say. Possibly he 
wasn’t sure what to expect either. That thought made her even more nervous.
“Dawn Corl and Trent Dar have arrived,” he said into his comm, after landing at 
the entrance to the house.
It was dark now, and all she could see was the outline of a magnificent home 
through the small trees. Lights from two gliders appeared and stopped in front 
of the carrier. She glanced over at him, wondering if this was normal procedure. 
His dark shadowed features made her insides flip-flop. Her breasts swelled under 
the heavy material, her nipples aching as they brushed against the coarse 
fabric. Trent had the look of a warrior, his body hard, muscles tense and 
bulging through his shirt. She knew if she ran her fingers over his chest he 
would be hard as stone. Here was a man of power, with authority, his reputation 
solid, his nature demanding. No matter what happened this evening, Dawn knew she 
would be safe by his side.
“They will escort us to the home,” Trent told her without looking her way, after 
pulling the comm from his head.
Dawn hadn’t been this nervous the first time she’d met her father. She’d been 
excited, unaware of so much protocol involved in a Gren meeting, and thrilled to 
be so far from home. Her father had met her alone, providing her a room in one 
of the towns, and then coming to see her. It had been there that he’d told her 
of his plans to stop the Bortan from moving forward with the prototype to give 
them skin. She’d willingly offered to help and bragged about the money she had. 
He’d arranged for her to have her own ship, and introduced her to the young 
woman who would help her.
All that seemed so long ago now. Trent landed the carrier for the second time 
and Dawn stared up at the home that was larger than any she’d ever seen. Her 
father’s home—the House of Corl. There was a proud distinguished look about the 
place. Zahn Corl was a respected warrior, having paid his dues and been honored 
by many.
That wasn’t the life she’d known. Had things been different, possibly she would 
have grown up here. But even then, she doubted she would have the distinguished 
dignity that this house professed. She was the bastard—daughter of a slave. 
Holding her head high, she would be damned if anyone made her feel inferior for 
her heritage.
For the first time she was grateful for the thick material of her dress when the 
night air wrapped around her. She shivered, and wrapped her arms around her 
waist, as she followed the two Gren who’d escorted them here toward the large 
steepled door ahead of them. It opened when they reached it, a very thin older 
Gren woman standing to the side so they could enter.
“Welcome to the House of Corl,” she said with a nod, her black eyes darting from 
Trent to Dawn. She searched Dawn’s face for a moment but then looked away.
They were curious about her. Dawn wondered what the members of this home knew of 
her. More than likely, she would find out soon enough. Without thinking, she 
edged closer to Trent.
Another man appeared behind her, his boots clicking against the floor as he 
approached them.
“Trent Dar. We are honored to have your presence at the House of Corl.” He came 
to a stop, clicking his heels together military style, and stood at attention. 
“It pleases all here that you are taking time to bring our guest to Zahn Corl. 
My father awaits you—this way.”
Trent placed his hand on her back as they followed the young man through the 
large entryway and then down a wide hallway to a brightly lit room at the end of 
the hall. His touch sent a reassuring warmth through Dawn.
He knew she was nervous, but pride swelled through him that she moved with such 
dignity. There hadn’t been time to do much research on the Corl family, but he 
hadn’t heard of any victories accomplished by Zahn’s son. Already Dawn had made 
her mark in favor of the Gren. She would be honored for her efforts to stop the 
Bortan, taking the risks that she had to help Poltar. Her bastard heritage would 
hinder her, but Trent also knew it would be to her advantage. She held no ties 
with this family. Her freedom gave her an interesting rank. And oddly enough for 
a woman who’d been raised a slave, it was a rank to be envied. Gren traditions 
wouldn’t apply to her, giving her the ability to make her own decisions that 
many in her place couldn’t make. Dawn didn’t have to stay here. And he would see 
to it that she didn’t.
Running his fingers along her back, pressing slightly so he could feel her spine 
through her dress, he fought the urge to pull her closer. Her long black hair 
brushed against his arm. Tall and proud, walking by his side, he knew that was 
where he wanted to keep her. A protective instinct rose strong inside him. 
Watching the young man who escorted them, a hardness surged through him. No one 
would harm Dawn. Nothing would stop him from taking her with him when they left 
this place after the meal.
Dawn held her head high, refusing to be discouraged that the young man hadn’t 
given her a glance while greeting Trent. And he’d mentioned that his father 
awaited them. Was he her half-brother?
He wasn’t as large as Trent, and was probably younger than she was. His shiny 
black hair was smoothed back to the nape of his neck. He wore a dark maroon 
suit—pants and a jacket that were made of the similar thick material her dress 
had been woven from. As cold as this planet was, she didn’t doubt their attire 
would be such heavy clothing. He paused at the entrance to the room, turning so 
she could see his profile. Definitely a young man, she noted how wide his black 
eyes were. Full of curiosity and a craving for adventure. He appeared to her a 
man who ached to leave home and taste life, yet hadn’t quite reached the age 
where he could.
“There you are.” Zahn Corl’s voice bellowed through the room.
“Father, may I present…”
“Drop the formalities.” Zahn waved his hand at the young man, which shut him up 
quickly although Dawn thought she noticed a wave of disapproval wrinkle his 
brow. “I know who they are.”
Zahn Corl took his time standing from a large wooden chair sitting close to a 
large fire burning in a hearth that covered the side of the long room. Dawn 
guessed he must enjoy the crackling of the flames since the computers more than 
likely controlled the temperature in the home. She watched her father stand, 
adjust his shirt with a tug from his thick fingers, and then smile warmly at 
her.
“Dawn. Welcome home.” He held his hands out, and she guessed that was her cue to 
approach.
Trent’s touch remained branded on her back as she left his side. For a moment 
she wished she’d picked Trent’s mind more, learned more of how Gren interacted 
with each other. But she hadn’t known what questions to ask. She forced down her 
insecurities. These people would accept her for who she was, or she wouldn’t 
accept them. She graced her father with a smile that she hoped looked confident 
and relaxed.
He gripped her hands in his own, his touch cold and his large palms wrinkly. But 
his grip was firm and his gaze alert.
“I’m thrilled to be here,” she said quietly, not knowing what else to say.
“Zook. Call for your mother and sister. Arrange for the homecoming meal to 
begin. We shall do formal introductions soon.” He looked over her shoulder when 
he spoke but didn’t let go of her hands.
Dawn heard the young man retreat and knew Trent stood alone behind her, 
watching, on guard. He wouldn’t approve of her opening up to her father, hugging 
him and telling him how good it was to have him in her life. She swallowed the 
urge, deciding a bit of distance might be best anyway until she knew her 
father’s intentions behind this formality.
“It will take time for all of them,” Zahn said quietly. He looked down at her 
with a gentle expression, and then let go of one of her hands to stroke her 
cheek. “You have made me proud, though, your actions befitting your blood. They 
will accept you.”
“I’m not here to cause problems for anyone.” She could only imagine what his 
mate would think of having her man’s bastard under her roof. There was no way of 
knowing how long the woman might have known of Dawn’s existence, but since she 
had only just met her father, it couldn’t have been that long. “There are 
matters…”
“Which we shall discuss later,” he interrupted, giving Trent his attention for 
the first time. “Trent Dar, it is an honor to have you in my home.”
Trent overheard the exchange of words and knew Zahn Corl didn’t wish him to be 
privileged to hear what he had in mind for Dawn.
“The honor is mine,” Trent said coolly from behind her.
Zahn Corl was a man to reckon with, in spite of his advanced age. Trent wouldn’t 
be intimidated by the fancy home, the high rank of the man in front of him. Any 
matters pertaining to Dawn he would know of. Even though Corl had a relaxed 
stance, Trent remained poised and alert. His instincts were on overdrive, 
something telling him he needed to pay attention to every move, every word said 
while they were in this home.
“Stories of your success with Command Center have reached us. I am impressed.” 
Zahn sounded sincere, but Dawn sensed the testosterone rising in the room. Two 
strong men, one whose record of success was behind him, and the other who 
continued to battle for what was right. “It’s a shame you have left the 
military. Your work is needed to keep our people strong.”
Dawn turned, staring at Trent. “You’ve left Command Center? But why?”
He didn’t look at her, his attention completely on Zahn Corl. “Your family has a 
gift of obtaining information not readily available to the public.”
It shouldn’t surprise him that his conversation with Por Gree had reached Zahn 
Corl. The simple acknowledgment that he knew of this matter was Corl’s way of 
telling Trent that he might be old, but was still powerful. Trent took the 
information, his protector instinct kicking in even harder with the knowledge.
Zahn didn’t smile. “I would be honored if you shared your intentions for your 
next mission.”
Trent nodded. “As always, I will protect Greneen to the death.”
He hadn’t told Zahn Corl a thing. Nor did he have any intention of doing so. The 
man would be a fool if he thought Trent wouldn’t go after the information of how 
Dawn had obtained the Bortan chips. Someone had access to the race, the ability 
to move around on the planet, and he had would find out who.
Dawn was dying to know what made him leave the military. She wouldn’t flatter 
herself into thinking it was because of her. But if he did have another mission 
lined up, where would it take him? The butterflies in her stomach turned into a 
knot at the thought that in the near future they might part ways.
Trent wouldn’t look at her, though. His black eyes probed through Zahn Corl. And 
in the short time she’d known Trent, already she could tell his guard was up. 
For some reason he didn’t trust her father. Dawn knew little about the man 
herself. And for the moment, she would take the stance that the only person she 
could completely rely on was herself, her own judgment, and her own abilities to 
protect herself. Both of these men had an agenda. And until she knew exactly 
what was in their minds, there was no way she could lean too hard on either of 
them. Her heart ached at that thought however. She wanted to lean on Trent—trust 
him, rely on his judgment.
The older woman who had answered the door appeared in the room from the hallway. 
“The meal is prepared,” she announced, and then turned silently, leaving them.
Zahn gestured with a wave of his hand. “Honor me by joining us in greeting my 
daughter into the family.”
Trent stood to the side, allowing the older man to lead them out of the room. 
Dawn looked up at him, falling into place at his side. But Trent didn’t look 
down at her. His expression might as well have been chiseled in stone. Silently 
they moved back down the hallway to a set of doors that had been closed when 
they walked past them minutes before.
It was as he expected. Zahn Corl intended to make Dawn an official part of his 
family. His reputation as a warrior was strong. And obviously the man had 
decided that announcing he had a bastard wouldn’t hinder him. And damn straight 
that it wouldn’t. Dawn would be one hell of a tool to use in gaining advantage 
in battle. Trent would not allow her to be used like that.
Once again he placed a protective hand on her, not caring if anyone saw the 
intimate gesture. Dawn had no clue about these ceremonies, or their meaning. She 
looked up at him, curiosity and wonder painting her expression. Those gray eyes 
searched his face. She wanted answers but there was no time. Silently he 
squeezed her waist, his only way of letting her know he would protect her.
Dawn looked into the room now opened and flooded with light and activity, 
noticing a long table filled with a variety of steaming foods. Several people 
stood next to their chairs, waiting silently for the head of the household to 
move to his chair and then gesture for all of them to sit. There were only two 
other unoccupied chairs in the room, one next to him, and the other at the end 
of the table. Trent nudged her and she moved to sit next to her father.
“We are honored tonight with the presence of my firstborn, my daughter. We will 
enter her into the House of Corl. Dawn of Corl, we give thanks for your 
presence.”
While Zahn spoke, several servants had hurried around the table, pouring a 
blood-colored liquid into stone goblets in front of them. Zahn Corl picked up 
his goblet, holding it in front of him.
“All of us drink. Give greeting to Dawn of Corl.” He nodded to the others 
sitting around the table and slowly each of them picked up their goblets.
Dawn looked down the table at Trent. He had his goblet and slowly sipped from 
it. When she met his gaze over the stone cup she thought she saw a warning in 
his eyes.
She sipped from her own cup, the liquid thick and sweet like a dessert. It 
didn’t settle well in her stomach and she set the goblet down.
“Allow me to introduce you to our family,” Zahn continued.
The servants continued to move around them with practiced ease, refilling 
goblets and scooping food from platters onto the plates in front of them. Dawn 
had the strangest sensation of being in a show, some kind of rehearsed skit 
where she was the only one who didn’t know her lines.
Tension rippled through the air, its thickness almost making the rich smells 
from the food unnoticeable. She glanced down when some kind of meat was slid 
from a serving plate onto her own. Her stomach ached with nerves and she wasn’t 
sure she would manage to eat, not to mention the sip she’d just taken from the 
drink wasn’t sitting well.
“My mate, Prel.” Zahn held his hand out and the woman sitting across from Dawn 
and next to Zahn placed her hand on his. “You are too old for a mother, Dawn. 
But Prel is here if you have matters of interest. She has agreed to assist you 
with questions of our culture.”
“That’s very kind of you,” Dawn said, not sure if she was supposed to speak or 
not.
The snort that escaped the mouth of the woman sitting next to her suggested that 
she wasn’t. Dawn didn’t look that way, but instead attempted a small smile for 
Zahn’s mate. It couldn’t be easy to welcome her mate’s daughter into her home, a 
child produced from a sex slave, and obviously showing her mother’s race in her 
looks. The woman didn’t look at her, but kept her gaze on her mate until finally 
looking down at her plate. If Zahn noticed that she didn’t appear thrilled with 
the task of educating Dawn, he gave no indication.
“My oldest son, Zook,” he continued, nodding to the young man who sat next to 
his mother and who had escorted them through the house. “And my daughter, Marl.”
“So what was it like being a sex slave?” Marl asked, her words putting a hush on 
the room.
“Marl,” Prel said with indignation.
“Father said we were to get to know her,” Marl retorted. “What else would you 
ask of her?”
“We will get to know her by listening to her speak with Father,” Zook scolded 
his younger sister. “We don’t have to talk to her.”
“Are you afraid I might bite?” Dawn couldn’t help asking, allowing her gaze to 
rest heavily on the young man.
He looked away from her quickly, confirming he might think just that.
“Fear hardly describes the feelings at hand,” Marl said under her breath.
“That is enough. You will honor your half-sister.” Zahn used a tone that should 
have been intimidating.
“Placing too much honor on a person of her type will bring dishonor to us.” Zook 
had more balls than Dawn thought at first.
She wanted to jump over the table and show him exactly what type of person she 
was, but she held her ground.
Zahn growled, his expression not offering as much indication of his emotions as 
his body did when his hands clenched into fists on either side of his plate. 
“She is my blood, and already has shown she is more of a warrior than you have. 
Hold your tongue, or leave this table.”
Trent slid his chair back quickly. He’d had enough of this escapade. “Have your 
servants escort us to a meeting room,” he said quietly, but with enough force to 
cause all to look at him. “Your family will finish their meal and then we shall 
meet with you.”
Dawn stood just as quickly. She glared at the mother who made no attempt to 
silence her children but allowed them to berate her instead of being strong 
enough to say what more than likely was on her mind. In that instant, she was 
glad she hadn’t been raised in this family. They were a bunch of spoiled brats.
“Dishonoring you is the last thing I wish to do,” Dawn hissed, her temper 
consuming her. “Teaching you some manners might not hurt though.”
She glared at Zook, getting morbid satisfaction from him not standing up to her 
but seeming to shrink in his chair. He was as meek as the men on Poltar, far 
from a challenge for her.
“As if you could teach us anything,” Marl muttered, not bothering to look up.
Dawn looked down at the young woman, barely a woman but no longer a teenager. 
She itched to yank the little twit from her chair, show her exactly what she 
could teach the brat.
“Dawn.” Trent’s tone made her name sound like a threat.
She glanced up at him in time to see Zook jump when Trent spoke.
“Enough,” Zahn Corl bellowed as he stood at the end of the table. “You all 
dishonor me in front of our guests. Leave!”
He pointed to the door, and then glared down at his mate as if somehow it was 
her fault that her children had spoken their minds.
Chapter Sixteen
 
“More Tark wine!” Zahn Corl bellowed while leaning back in his chair after his 
family had left. Determination etched his face, bringing out wrinkles in his 
forehead and around his eyes.
The servants hurried around them, as if somehow their actions could soothe the 
incident that had just occurred.
“You ask too much of your family to accept me.” Dawn still stood next to her 
seat, clenching the back of it, needing something to hold on to or she would 
hurry out of the room too. “I didn’t come here to disrupt your home life, a life 
that isn’t mine, nor ever shall be.”
“Sit,” Zahn ordered, gesturing to her and to Trent.
“I’ve lost my appetite,” she told him, although she’d never been hungry.
“Clear the plates,” Zahn instructed the servants, and then gestured to her and 
Trent once again. “Sit.”
Dawn glanced toward Trent. More than anything she wanted to leave this place. 
There was unfinished business with her father, but that could be handled at 
another time, in a neutral place. She’d been insulted, humiliated, and the urge 
to storm out of there and never look back made it hard to think straight. A 
fiery rage ran through her, mixed with embarrassment. Her past was simply that. 
Somehow she would overcome it and move forward. And she didn’t see how remaining 
there would help her do that.
Trent moved around the table, the servants artfully dodging him as they cleared 
serving dishes and plates. His attention was on Dawn. She shook with a fury he 
imagined burned through her veins. She didn’t have the training to restrain it. 
But she couldn’t explode in front of Zahn Corl. In spite of the man’s selfish 
attempt to place her as firstborn in front of his family, he had a rank that had 
to be respected, at least in his home.
Dawn’s gray eyes burned with a passion that made her cheeks flush a beautiful 
pink. Her slow, deep breaths pushed her breasts forward even through the heavy 
material of the dress he’d provided for her. Standing there, staring down at the 
man who was her father, she was so captivating. But she was also a ticking bomb, 
ready to explode if not handled properly.
He put his arm around her, feeling her stiffen, aware of the older man watching 
him. She didn’t relax when he pulled her to him, resting his arm around her 
shoulder. Long strands of black hair partially covered the side of her face, but 
he saw the edge of determination that was etched in her expression. So proud, so 
strong, she wouldn’t let this get her down.
But she’d taken a blow—not only to her pride, but also to her heritage. And he 
knew her Gren blood wouldn’t take that lightly. Standing tall so close to him, 
she still seemed a distance away, not letting down her shield, not letting him 
in. Such a short time ago she’d been on her knees, sucking the life out of him. 
Now she had a wall up around her, one he would break through. She would learn 
trusting him, leaning on him, would make her life easier.
“We will honor your father and sit as he requests,” he said very quietly, 
praying she wouldn’t throw him off with an outburst.
She stared up at him, running her tongue over her lips, moistening them, their 
fullness reminding him that they had recently been wrapped around his cock. His 
insides hardened, raw possessiveness swarming through him.
“I want to leave,” she whispered, the simple statement a confession of her 
humiliation.
He pulled her closer, while sliding the seat out that Zahn Corl’s daughter had 
sat in moments before.
It felt real good being in Trent’s arms. She fit so well pressed against his 
virile body. Energy that she didn’t know what to do with at the moment surged 
through her, making her heart race. Heat from his hard as rock muscles seeped 
through him and into her. He fed her his strength, his calmness, his ability to 
stand tall when she wanted to strike out. She wanted to attack. She wanted to 
run. Her mind was in turmoil. Trent was her solid pillar and she didn’t want to 
leave his arms.
“There are matters to discuss,” he said simply, and took the seat next to Zahn.
Zahn Corl crossed his thick arms over his massive chest and watched Trent with a 
shrewd eye. Trent didn’t care if holding Dawn showed his protective side, 
offered a glimpse of growing feelings between the two of them. Zahn Corl could 
have that knowledge, accept the fact that Dawn would be with him.
Now was time to cut to the chase. There were issues to discuss that had nothing 
to do with whether Dawn became part of the House of Corl or not.
Dawn hesitated for only a moment but then sat down next to Trent. His attention 
was on her father, but having him in her line of vision somehow made it easier 
to calm her breathing, clear her thoughts. She didn’t need protection from her 
father, or his family. But she didn’t mind having Trent on her side, next to 
her, a silent alliance forming that her father would acknowledge.
The doors to the room opened again, and the woman who’d greeted them at the door 
appeared again.
“You have another guest,” she said simply, giving no indication that any of the 
events of the evening affected her or not, or if she even cared.
“Show her in,” Zahn said and then took a long drink from his wine.
Trent realized he’d been expecting someone else all along, since Zahn Corl knew 
the gender of the guest without asking. One thing Trent didn’t like was 
surprises. He turned, eyeing the doorway, watching to see who would appear 
behind the servant. He wasn’t breathing, his senses were on alert, his body 
tensing although he remained relaxed in the chair. To show signs of aggression 
while a guest in a Gren home wasn’t proper.
The older woman stepped to the side and a much younger woman sauntered into the 
room. Dawn straightened, seeming to recognize her instantly. Trent gave the 
woman a careful look, remembering also where he’d seen her before.
“Borna. Thanks for coming,” Zahn Corl said in an uncharacteristically relaxed 
tone. He stood slowly, extending his hand, a non-Gren formality, and shook the 
woman’s hand.
She nodded, and then turned her attention to Trent and Dawn. She was a short 
woman compared to Dawn, and well-built, muscular, yet attractive. Thick, long 
black hair had been twisted and piled behind her head. She studied both of them 
with knowing dark eyes, not quite black, more of a mud brown color. Her olive 
skin was smooth, an almost unnoticeable scar marking the side of her jawbone. 
She had the look of a warrior, and the convenient nondescript appearance that 
would hide her true heritage. A heritage Trent scorned and ached to wipe from 
the solar system.
“Trent Dar,” Borna said quietly, nodding to him. “We meet again.”
Dawn turned her attention quickly, giving him a hard look, obviously wondering 
how he knew Borna. He leaned back, crossing his arms against his chest. It 
allowed him to see Dawn better while she stared from Borna to him. And to keep 
his attention focused on the Bortan woman who stood in front of him. Albeit she 
didn’t have the surgical implants her race was known for, his past experiences 
allowed him the knowledge he knew Borna kept from most people.
“Yes. It appears we do,” he said mildly, a slow understanding entering his 
brain. He now had a good hunch how Dawn had obtained the Bortan chips.
Borna reached for the chair on the opposite side of the table from Trent and 
Dar, waiting for Zahn Corl to sit before doing the same. The brown leather pants 
she wore and loose-fitting brown shirt were work clothes, not Gren. They fit her 
nicely, showing off her sultry figure. The woman had a hardened look about her 
though that Trent knew came from battle and witnessing more than a person should 
have to see in a lifetime.
Borna had made no attempt to honor the House of Corl by adhering to the Gren 
custom of proper visiting attire. Nonetheless, the woman would have caught 
anyone’s eye. Stunning and beautiful, if Trent didn’t have personal knowledge of 
her warrior skills, he would have passed her off as simply another attractive 
woman.
Yet she was far from that. Borna was a Bortan, the dreaded race that he’d fought 
hard to annihilate from several planets now. And he would hear the explanation 
as to why she worked with Zahn Corl.
Zahn must have read his thoughts. “I’m sure by now you are working to solve a 
riddle,” he suggested.
Trent gave the older man his attention.
“I’m in no mood for riddles,” he said, dropping all formalities. “You are 
working with a Bortan, a woman who was once on the high council and leader of 
the fifth army on Bort. This alone could dishonor you.”
Borna leaned back in her chair, her gaze burrowing into Trent. “You would judge 
a person because of the blood running through their veins? Because of their 
heritage?” She gave Dawn a knowing look. “Do you think the House of Dar will 
readily accept a sex slave as your woman?”
Adrenaline still pumped through Dawn from her encounter with the Corl family. 
She slid her chair back, standing up and leaning over the table. She’d had 
enough of being discredited for one night. “Trent Dar doesn’t own me,” she 
hissed. “And you know damn well that I’m no longer a slave.”
Borna smiled, not even remotely intimidated by Dawn glaring down at her. “Oh. My 
mistake. So you don’t care if I take him home with me tonight?”
Dawn shoved her chair back. Her interactions with Borna when she’d taken the 
Bortan chips from her had been brief. At the time, she’d appeared professional, 
distant, simply a businesswoman exchanging highly secretive material. Dawn had 
sensed her intelligence at the time, and even envied Borna for her worldly ways. 
But she hadn’t taken time to get to know her.
But now, Borna would know a thing or two about her. She took a step to march 
around the table, let Borna have a piece of her mind, and maybe her fist. Strong 
hands grabbed her arms and she was yanked backward, tripping over her own feet. 
Trent’s chest hit her backside hard enough to knock the wind out of her.
Heat from his body surged through her. She closed her eyes, unable to cope with 
so many emotions that ran raw through her system. His powerful body pressing 
against the length of hers once again made her ache to leave this place, be 
alone with him, put the bad experiences of the night behind her.
“No fighting,” he said quietly into her ear. Privately though, he was honored 
that she would challenge another woman for him. He fought to keep his personal 
feelings concealed for the moment. Later however, when he was alone with her, he 
had every intention of bringing up the fact that she would publicly show her 
possessiveness for him.
He pushed her back into her seat, the fire in her eyes while she fought to slow 
her breathing enough to inspire the thought of simply throwing her over his 
shoulder and marching right out of there. A carnal, more primitive side of him 
surfaced when it came to this woman.
“Why are you here, Borna?” Dawn asked, feeling suddenly ridiculous for her 
obvious display of jealousy. She took a deep breath, staring at the woman across 
from her who still looked completely relaxed. Dawn had just made a damn fool of 
herself, and simply proven to everyone in the room how she felt about Trent. She 
needed to get the conversation moved on to other things, and quickly, before she 
died of embarrassment. “I did what I was asked to do. Are you here to check up 
on me?”
“Excellent. So the prototype chips are destroyed.” Borna nodded with approval, 
apparently willing to drop the issue of Trent as well, yet ignoring Dawn’s 
question and giving no indication why she was here.
“Well…” Dawn chewed her lip, unwilling to lie.
“Well what?” Zahn Corl leaned forward.
Dawn looked from her father to Borna.
“Where are they?” Borna asked, her smile fading. Suddenly she looked incredibly 
dangerous. There weren’t many people who made Dawn nervous, and she was a fair 
bit taller than Borna. But the hard look that crossed the woman’s face, her 
muscular body, made it clear that she wouldn’t tolerate any lies.
“I have them.” Trent didn’t hesitate.
All eyes in the room turned to him.
Trent reached inside his long cape, and pulled out a small bag. He placed it on 
the table in front of all of them. No one moved. No one reached for the bag that 
bulged with computer chips.
“And now, you will explain to me exactly what is on these chips,” he said, his 
attention completely on Borna.
“I am on those chips,” she said quietly. “And once and for all, they need to be 
destroyed.”
Trent leaned back, as if that made sense to him. Well, it didn’t make sense to 
Dawn.
“What do you mean?” she asked. “You told me those carried information on turning 
Bortan into humanoids who couldn’t be recognized. You said if those chips were 
implanted in a Bortan, they wouldn’t need their metal implants. It would change 
the race so that they were no longer noticeably half human, half machine.”
Borna nodded. “And I am Bortan,” she said.
A chill rushed through Dawn. Borna was a product of the race that had 
annihilated her home, killed her mother, destroyed her planet. For a moment she 
couldn’t think. The other two men looked so calm, like Borna hadn’t just 
announced the most terrible thing they could hear. Her mind spun with scenes of 
the Ryl Plantation burning, of the large house crumbling to the ground, of the 
land around her so bright with fire that she couldn’t see, of the hair on her 
skin singeing as she raced inside the slave homes searching for survivors. She 
could still hear the Bortan ships flying above her, dropping more bombs on a 
land already destroyed.
Borna seemed to sense the hostility that rushed through Dawn. “I despise what my 
people have done to the Ryclox solar system. I couldn’t do anything about 
Poltar.” She licked her lips, her dark eyes showing her sympathy, and something 
that looked like anger. “When they attacked Benox, I was there to help defeat 
them. It was there that I met Trent Dar.”
Trent nodded. “Your actions were honorable. And your warrior skills noted.”
Zahn offered a tilt of his head, indicating he knew of Borna’s past and agreed.
“What do you mean you are on those chips?” Dawn asked, fighting to put her 
nightmares to rest.
The past was done. All she knew now was Borna had given her the chips and told 
her to destroy them. She had to rely on that knowledge that Borna was not 
working with the Bortan.
Borna stood slowly, and then reached into her pants pocket and pulled out a 
small knife. Trent straightened. He’d seen this woman in action, watched her 
fight by his side, and even save his good friend, Marc of Torin, while fighting 
on Benox.
The woman fought for her own cause, her battle brewing deeper inside her than 
most. At the time, she’d posed as a simple farmhand, a person with no rank. Yet 
he and Marc of Torin had learned the truth about her, discovered that in fact 
she held one of the highest rankings a Bortan could carry. And she’d walked away 
from it.
Her personal battles gave her a hard edge. It would take a lot to crack this 
woman. And as she stood there on the other side of the table, knife in hand, 
holding it in front of her, demons creased the lines around her eyes. She was a 
woman on a mission so huge, it could very easily destroy her. And at the same 
time, make her very hard to destroy.
The side of the knife caught the light of the room, its silver edge glistening. 
Borna wouldn’t attack anyone. Trent sensed no aggression about her, but he was 
prepared if she made any hasty moves. Those chips would not leave his presence. 
In the wrong hands, they could mean the death of his solar system.
Borna stuck her arm out and pulled up the sleeve. In front of all of them, she 
ran the blade over her flesh, slicing her arm. She winced, sucking in air. Dawn 
jumped to her feet while the pungent smell of fresh blood filled their nostrils.
“What are you doing?” Dawn cried out, and grabbed the knife from Borna before 
the woman could stop her.
“It’s okay,” Borna said through gritted teeth.
Trent stood as well, reaching for a cloth that was folded next to the carafe of 
wine. He pressed the material on Borna’s arm. The woman made a face, her pain 
obvious. But then slowly pulled her arm away from his grasp.
“By the gods,” Dawn said in disbelief, staring at the silver implants underneath 
Borna’s skin. “You’re a fucking Bortan.”
“Yes,” Borna said, sitting down heavily.
Dawn took the cloth from Trent and moved around the table, helping Borna to wrap 
the wound.
“A drastic act to prove a needed point.” Zahn Corl sounded like he praised the 
woman for her act.
“And if those chips are reproduced, and given to my people, you won’t be able to 
tell us from the Gren.” Her point settled heavily on the small group.
Chapter Seventeen
 
Dawn had no idea that a homecoming meal entailed staying over at the host’s 
house. When her father had instructed his servants to show his guests to their 
rooms, she’d been ready to protest. Trent had given her a shrewd look, and with 
a slight squeeze of her hand had silently told her to accept the invitation.
She hadn’t slept well at all, and now was more than grouchy. She’d hoped and 
prayed to the gods that Trent would come to her during the night, her body in 
agony. She needed him so badly, wanting him buried deep inside her, the pressure 
that had build the night before still not subsiding. Yet no one had come to her 
door.
Too many times to count she’d thrown the heavy blankets off of her, slid over to 
the side of the bed that was way too large for one person to sleep in, and 
padded to the door. Once she’d even opened it, stepped out into the quiet 
hallway. No one had been in sight.
The servants had escorted them to the far wing of the house, far away from where 
the Corl family slept, she’d been sure. Trent had been assigned a room down the 
hall from her, Borna in the room next to hers.
Now, dressed and bathed, she stood in that hallway once again, wondering where 
Trent was. She wore the same dress she’d had on the night before, not having 
brought a change of clothing. Fingering the thick fabric, a sense of awkwardness 
ran through her, the urge to walk down the hall to Trent’s room enveloping her.
Visioning him opening his door, sleep having left his hair tousled, she imagined 
pushing against his hard chest, entering the room while the door closed behind 
her. She wouldn’t have to say a word, simply run her fingertips up his broad 
shoulders. That hunger would be in his eyes. His powerful arms would be around 
her and carrying her to the bed without a word. Dawn ached to feel his hard cock 
pressed against her, throbbing, swelling with an eagerness to penetrate her.
“Sleep well?” Borna asked from behind her.
Dawn turned, startled out of her fantasy. “Sure,” she lied.
“Me neither,” Borna said, giving no indication she’d just called Dawn a liar.
The woman was dressed in Gren attire today, black Gren leather pants hugging her 
muscular legs and displaying her firm narrow waist. She’d donned a pullover 
black shirt that hugged her in all the right places showing off full, rather 
large breasts. Her hair was as black as Dawn’s and fell loose over her shoulders 
and down to her waist. It was still damp from bathing, giving it a glossy 
appearance.
Borna gave her the once-over while Dawn did the same. The woman’s brown eyes 
traveled from her head, down to her toes, and then back up again. Dawn met her 
gaze.
“You really could pass for Gren,” Borna said. “But those gray eyes…they are 
quite captivating. I can see what Trent sees in you.”
“I’ve been told I’m beautiful all my life,” Dawn confessed, not meaning anything 
vain by the comment. “And I’m sure you’ve heard the same. Having someone see 
beyond the pretty face is what matters.”
“Agreed.” Borna gestured with her head that Dawn follow her. “Zahn called for 
Trent early this morning. I wasn’t able to hear what they said to each other but 
they both left before the suns rose. Prel Corl controls the servants and since 
I’m sure she wishes neither of us were in her home, we’re going to have to fend 
for ourselves for food.”
So Trent was gone. An emptiness swarmed through her that she’d never experienced 
before. There was no way of knowing if he’d left her for good, feeling she was 
safe at her father’s home, or if he intended to come back. His words on her ship 
clung to her while worry consumed her.Don’t ever take off without me again.
Well, he had done just that. She wasn’t property. If he issued an order, he 
would follow the same rules, or there was nothing. Dawn shoved her worry out of 
the way, fought to stifle the panic that slowly tried to consume her. She’d be 
damned if she sat around looking pretty until Trent Dar decided to give her the 
time of day.
“How is your arm?” Changing the subject could only help keep her mind off Trent.
Dawn studied Borna’s arm, her long-sleeve shirt giving no indication that there 
might be a bandage underneath.
“I’m fine.” Borna didn’t look like the type of woman who would complain about 
pain. “Let’s go find food. I’m starved.”
Holding her head high, she followed Borna down the hallway, away from the 
direction of Trent’s room. Sweet-smelling ivy, its orange leaves adding color to 
the otherwise simple elevator, crawled from its pot and covered part of the 
wall.
“Kitchen,” Borna said simply, and then the two stood in silence while the tiny 
box-like transporter lowered them to the main floor.
A sense of sneaking into the master’s home rushed through her when Borna looked 
both ways after the doors opened silently and a grand hallway appeared. Without 
a word, she hurried down the back hallway, and Dawn followed silently.
Dawn actually felt more at home entering the kitchen through the servants’ 
entrance than she had the night before in the fancy hall where they’d dined. 
This room had an entirely different atmosphere from the rest of the house.
A stone floor, covered with dried straw, muted the sound of her boots. Grease 
hung heavy in the air, while a mixture of herbs from a nearby drying closet 
tickled her senses with memories of home.
“What you need?” an overweight servant asked, her non-blinking black eyes 
narrowing on the two of them.
“We missed breakfast. And any of the gossip would be fine to go along with it.” 
Borna spoke like they were old friends, although Dawn doubted the two knew each 
other.
With a huff, the woman turned around and then dropped a pan of biscuits onto the 
counter in the middle of the room. A couple of young girls came in from a side 
door, bringing the cool morning air in with them. Their chatter stopped when 
they saw Borna and Dawn.
Borna grabbed a couple of stools and pulled them to the counter indicating Dawn 
should take one of them. She reached for one of the biscuits and ripped it in 
two.
“Don’t stop your talk on our account,” she said to the girls with her mouth 
full.
Dawn hadn’t had an appetite the night before and now was famished. She picked up 
one of the biscuits, which almost flaked apart in her hand. Taking a bite she 
was surprised at how good it tasted, and quickly stuffed some more in her mouth.
“This is good,” she told the cook, knowing it had always gotten her points at 
home when praising the cook’s work.
“What do you two want?” The cook pointed a large ladle at them, wagging it back 
in forth between the two of them. “We won’t be saying a word around you that 
might cause us trouble. This is good work. None of us plan on messing up a 
paying job.”
Borna held her hands up in a sign of surrender. “You know surely that if we held 
any weight with the lady of the house, we’d have dined with her this morning. 
And don’t tell me that you don’t already know we barely match your rank.”
The cook was quiet for a moment, taking in what Borna had just said. Dawn knew 
that it hadn’t been too long ago when she didn’t come close to the rank of the 
cook. A slave had no clout whatsoever. And she knew if this House of Corl was 
anything like the Ryl Plantation, the house servants knew more about what was 
going on, oftentimes faster than the master did.
“There’s wine in the cooler if you’re thirsty,” she told them, turning back to 
her work.
Being offered free rein in the kitchen was always a good sign that you were 
accepted. Dawn stood, turning toward the large door in the wall, and pulled it 
open, finding a large jug half full of the sweet wine they’d been served the 
night before. She would have preferred water, but knew on Greneen that was a 
commodity. She brought the wine to the counter. One of the girls shyly brought 
over a couple of cups, watching her carefully.
“What was it like being a sex slave?” she asked shyly, only to receive another 
huff from the cook who didn’t bother to turn around.
“It was terrible,” Dawn answered honestly, seeing the curiosity in the two 
girls’ eyes.
“Did you have to have sex with a lot of different men?” the other girl asked, 
looking like the idea of having sex with any man appealed to her.
“They tried to make me,” Dawn told her. “But I fought them so much that I think 
they got tired of beating me. For the most part I just got ignored.”
Within the next few minutes, Dawn had a handful of servants surrounding them at 
the counter as she shared experiences of her life on Ryl Plantation. Even the 
cook brought over drippings from one of the pans and more biscuits while the lot 
of them enjoyed the small feast and listened, all full of questions.
“So when did you find out that your father was Zahn Corl?” one of the servants 
asked, after the jug of wine and most of the biscuits were almost gone.
“I take it all of the chores are done for the morning?” Zook Corl leaned in the 
doorway to the kitchen, glaring at the lot of them.
“Party’s over,” Borna mumbled, hopping off the stool.
She tugged at Dawn’s sleeve.
Dawn’s heart pounded in her chest at the sudden interruption from the oldest son 
of the house. A sudden hush fell on the room, and then all servants began 
scurrying, hurrying to get to whatever task was assigned to them, and vacated 
the room before they got in trouble.
Dawn followed the Bortan woman outside, the cool air refreshing after breathing 
in the grease-filled warm air in the kitchen. Greneen had a thin sky, with trees 
everywhere. The small planet was so different from Poltar, its air heavy and 
cold. She was grateful for the weight of the fabric for blocking some of the 
cold that wrapped around her.
“Were you able to get some medicine to treat your arm?” she asked, not sure what 
else to say to the woman, but not wanting to be left alone.
Dawn definitely felt like she was on enemy ground here.
“I’m fine.” Borna continued to walk away from the house, seeming to know where 
she was going.
Dawn followed, not having anything else to do. Glancing around, she realized 
they were on the back side of the house. They reached the side and continued 
their trek along a well-kept path. The house was large, and the shadows cold, 
but her attention was sidetracked with reaching the front of the house. It 
didn’t surprise her when they did that Trent’s carrier was gone. She couldn’t 
believe he would just leave her there. Another carrier was parked there and she 
guessed it belonged to Borna.
“Leaving us already?” Zook spoke up from behind them.
Dawn turned, staring into the face of the young man. Outside, with no hard 
glances warning her to behave, he didn’t intimidate her. Although taller, he 
didn’t have the powerful frame of Trent. Still a boy, but struggling to be a 
man, he straightened, his gaze not faltering.
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” she asked, more curious to hear his answer than 
to challenge him.
“It doesn’t matter to me either way if you stay or if you go.” He was lying 
although managed to keep his expression almost neutral.
Dawn sensed something about him though, some kind of morbid curiosity she felt 
inclined to explore. After all, this was her half-brother.
“How long have you known about me?” she asked.
“We were told only yesterday,” he answered without hesitating.
“Must have come as quite a shock.” She turned, realizing Borna hadn’t stopped, 
and hurried to catch up.
Zook followed behind her. “How long have you known my father was your father?” 
he asked.
“I’ve always known,” she told him, remembering the exact day her mother had told 
her, but not wanting to share the intimate moment that had given her so much 
hope, with this man who scorned her.
It had been early in the morning, and she remembered when her mother had 
returned to the small cottage that they shared with several other slaves from 
Ryl Plantation. Dawn knew the routine of drawing bathwater for her mother and 
that morning hadn’t been much different. She’d filled the tub in the corner of 
the cottage just like her mother liked it and had it nice and steamy when she’d 
entered the cottage, naked, with handprints on her body.
It wasn’t an unusual sight. And her mother’s state never seemed to bother her. 
Men would fondle her, use her as they wished, have her do all kinds of things, 
and her mother had never complained. If anything, she seemed to take pride in 
who she was. It was a trait that Dawn had admired and at the same time scorned. 
Her mother had no desire to be anything other than what she was, property to be 
used as the master saw fit. It was her mother’s peaceful contentment with life 
that Dawn had never mastered.
“This is what we’re bred to do,” she had told Dawn in one of her many efforts to 
try and get her daughter to succumb to her life as a sex slave.
That particular morning her mother had been glowing when she returned to the 
cottage, all smiles and almost dancing her way inside the small room.
“I saw your father last night,” she’d said while testing the water with her 
toes.
Dawn had almost dropped the dish of soap. “I have a father?”
She’d never thought about it, never given any thought to who might have sired 
her. The children of the slaves ran freely among all of the adults, little 
concern given as to who had planted the seed, or who had birthed them. None of 
that mattered since they would be sold, or taken to the house as soon as they 
reached the age where they could fuck.
Her mother’s grin had been full of mischief as she sank into the steaming water. 
“You can’t say anything,” she’d whispered. “The master doesn’t want you to know. 
But your father is a very important man. He isn’t a slave like us.”
Dawn hadn’t understood. She’d taken her mother’s words to memory, but at that 
moment they had meant nothing. It had been months, maybe years later, when she’d 
heard about him again. That time it had been after one of the encounters she’d 
had with the master. She’d been young, barely a teenager, and had fought the 
master’s first attempt to have sex with her.
“I can’t believe you slapped him,” her mother had said through tears, the women 
around her trying to comfort her after she’d been whipped.
The master hadn’t punished her but her mother. “Spread your legs and show me how 
well you can fuck and your mother won’t suffer.”
Dawn had thrown up before she’d been able to give in. The other slaves hadn’t 
talked to her for at least a week after that.
“You’ve got too much of your father’s blood in you,” one of the other slaves had 
scolded, before her mother had told the woman to shut up.
“Who is my father?” Dawn had asked, but no one would answer her.
Later that night, lying in bed next to her mother and doing her best not to 
touch her so that she wouldn’t hurt her after she’d been whipped, her mother had 
told her.
“And he lives on a planet that is fifth in the Ryclox solar system, a place 
called Greneen,” her mother had said. “He’s very important, and when he visits, 
he always asks for me.”
Even with the red welts traveling across her body, her mother had spoken with 
pride. Not pride that she had birthed a daughter of a very important man, but 
pride in that she could sexually please him better than any of the other slaves 
at Ryl Plantation. For some reason, that knowledge had always bothered Dawn. But 
at the same time, she’d secretly done everything she could to learn about the 
man who’d given her life. Sneaking into the master’s rooms when he wasn’t 
around, she’d looked at the maps, learned where her father lived, and done her 
best to learn about the Gren.
It was after the night when she’d finally lost her virginity that her mom had 
told her. “Zahn Corl will never know you now. Now you are truly a sex slave.”
Whether her mom had been saddened by that knowledge or not, Dawn had never been 
able to tell.
She hurried along the path at the front of the house, walking toward the carrier 
that Borna had just opened up.
“Where are you going?” she asked, not wanting to be left at her father’s home.
After all the years of wanting to know about him, aching to learn how he lived, 
she now wanted nothing more than to leave and possibly never look back. This 
wasn’t her life. She knew she hadn’t found the life for her yet, but staying 
here and enduring people who barely tolerated her was no better than the life 
she’d had on Ryl Plantation.
Borna had climbed into the carrier, and started the craft with one hand, holding 
the other to her side. “Do you have the chips?” she asked, ignoring the fact 
that Zook had come to stand beside Dawn.
“No.” Dawn remembered Trent scooping them up when Zahn Corl had announced that 
the three of them would be shown to their rooms. She hadn’t seen them, or him 
since.
“Well, apparently neither of us rated word as to what those two planned to do 
with them. That bothers me.” She glanced past Dawn to Zook, her brown eyes 
darkening while she spoke. “And I plan to find out what is going on.”
“Take me with you.” Already Dawn had climbed into the carrier.
There was the chance that Trent would return, wonder where she’d went. But damn 
it to all the hells, the man wouldn’t just leave her without word and expect her 
to sit and wait like a good girl. That wasn’t how it would be.
She turned to see Zook take a step backward, his expression showing emotion that 
wasn’t characteristic of the Gren she’d known so far. And she knew what he was 
feeling. He craved adventure too, and had always been left behind.
“I want you to know something,” she said to him. “I’m not sure what ceremony 
took place last night. Your ways are foreign to me, I don’t deny that. But it 
was never my intention to come here and take over as the oldest child.”
Zook opened his mouth as if he would speak, and then closed it again.
“I never meant to disrupt your family,” she added, meaning it.
Zook nodded and then brought himself to attention, looking very much like the 
boy she realized that he still was. Living in his father’s shadow, he’d never 
been given the opportunity to grow up.
“May your battles be successful,” he said, his face once again properly masked, 
showing no emotion.
Dawn nodded, not sure of what the proper response was.
Chapter Eighteen
 
“There’s trouble,” Borna said, only minutes after they were airborne.
Dawn watched Borna work the controls with one hand, and tried to understand what 
she saw on the panels.
“Can you work the search panel?” Borna asked, not looking at Dawn but paying 
attention to the controls in front of her.
“Sure.” Dawn leaned forward, not having a clue how the equipment in the carrier 
worked, but damned determined to figure it out.
She stared at the program Borna had brought up, looking at the screen that 
displayed blinking lights and a diagram that looked like a map of Greneen and 
the ships and space stations surrounding it. There seemed to be an awful lot of 
activity going on.
“Here.” Borna pointed with her bad arm toward a group of buttons. “Pull up the 
communication at the space station.”
Dawn did her best, with Borna guiding her, and soon they could hear the 
transmissions going on between the station that orbited Greneen, where her ship 
was, and the main outfit of military for Greneen.
“We count ten ships in the first fleet. They left Bort less than an hour ago.” A 
man’s voice announced the information and Dawn frowned, glancing at Borna.
“Damn it to all of the hells. I knew this would happen.” Borna hit the controls 
with her fist, anger flaring across her pretty face. “The Bortan have never 
attacked Greneen.”
“Maybe they aren’t going to now.” Dawn couldn’t tolerate the thought of being on 
yet another planet that would be attacked by the nasty race.
“There is only one way to find out.” Borna’s expression grew hard. “But I need a 
better communication system than this.”
Dawn only had to think for a minute. “I have a TR-class ship orbiting this 
planet. It would have the equipment you need.”
Borna turned at her, smiling. “We’re going to need it.”
She accelerated quickly until they were out of the atmosphere of the planet and 
orbiting Greneen. Clarifying with the space station their intention, they were 
granted passage to board Dawn’s ship. Less than an hour later, the carrier 
slowed and came to a stop in the landing bay of Dawn’s ship.
It felt damn good to be “home”. And that was exactly how she felt about her 
ship. Dawn led the way through the landing bay toward the command room of her 
ship. The controlled environment, her boots clicking on the solid floor, the 
smooth hum surrounding her of the ship’s engines, all of it offered a security 
that she was safe. However its emptiness nagged at her, memories of her friends 
from Poltar, of Trent, haunting her while she entered the ship’s main room.
Borna made herself right at home, seeming to know more about Dawn’s ship than 
Dawn did. Her actions reminded Dawn of Trent, the way she quickly worked the 
controls and repeatedly glanced up at the large screen in front of them until 
she had the information that she wanted.
“I can’t believe this,” she said, running her fingers through her thick hair.
“What?” Dawn wished she had half of Borna’s warrior skills, her calm ways while 
staring at a panel that appeared to show almost a dozen Bort ships heading their 
way.
“We will be annihilated,” Borna said, not looking up.
“We?” Dawn asked.
“Yes.” Borna gave her a hard look. “I don’t deny who I am. What my people are 
doing is wrong, but nonetheless, I’m Bortan. I’m not ashamed of that.”
Dawn didn’t understand, but Borna looked away after a moment, and left her 
wondering what it would be like to be in torment with her own people. She barely 
focused on the panel in front of her when it dawned on her that she’d despised 
who she was too, yet still despised the Bortan for destroying her life. Glancing 
at Borna , she saw the woman in a new light. Proud of who she was, but despising 
what her people did, somehow hit a bit close to home.
“Look at this.” Borna pointed, adjusting the controls and then looking up at the 
screen on the wall in front of them.
Dawn felt the floor move under her feet when she stared into the star-filled 
space that appeared in front of her. Fighting off dizziness she managed to hold 
her ground when something flew past her ship.
“What was that?” she whispered, realizing she white-knuckled the edge of the 
control panel.
“Greneen is sending out fighter pilots.” Borna stood back from the panel, a look 
of disbelief crossing her face. “The Bortan are going to get their asses 
kicked.”
Dawn glanced down at the panel, and then up at the screen in front of her. 
Several ships passed by them. Without another thought, she reached for the 
panel, engaging engines.
“What are you doing?” Borna cried out.
“Get in your seat.” Dawn took control of the ship, bringing it around, breaking 
orbit. “I’m sorry, Borna. But if the Bortan are going down today, I’m going to 
be a part of it.”
“No!” Borna grabbed Dawn’s wrists, giving no sign that the quick action affected 
her injured arm. Determination made her expression hard. Her dark eyes burned 
with the intensity of emotions that crossed her face. “We will watch. But I 
can’t be a part of this fight.”
Dawn had her ship out of orbit, moving into deeper space. Borna’s hands were 
cold against her wrists, but she hadn’t managed to prevent her from slowing the 
ship.
“You’ve already announced that you disapprove of what your people have done.” 
Dawn managed to free her hands from Borna’s grasp and stared the woman in the 
face. “There is no way I can sit here and watch the Bortan send out more ships, 
ships that will destroy life, continue to take down the solar system.”
“I don’t approve of what my people are doing. And I’ve made no secret of it.” 
Although shorter, Borna stood her ground in front of Dawn. Putting her hands on 
her hips, she glared at Dawn. “That doesn’t mean I wish my planet destroyed. You 
didn’t like being a slave, but the destruction of your home burns deep in your 
soul. Tell me that it doesn’t.”
“And the Bortan did that to my home,” Dawn hissed, but then Borna’s words slowly 
drifted through her.
She let out a sigh, running her fingers through her hair while she turned her 
attention to the screen that showed they were moving deeper into space, heading 
for the line of fire.
A red light started flashing on the control panel, grabbing their attention. 
Someone was hailing the ship. Dawn slapped the button that would allow the 
transmission to come through.
“Prepare to be boarded.” Trent’s voice filled the control room.
At the same time the engines strained against a force field that forcibly slowed 
their ship. Dawn looked quickly at the screen, her heart suddenly racing at the 
realization that Trent had arrived. Yet at the same time wonder filled her that 
she hadn’t noticed another ship closing in on them.
Borna moved quickly, decreasing engine speed. “The force field will tear at the 
exterior if we don’t slow down,” she explained.
Dawn stood next to her, adjusting the view of the screen in front of them. A 
Gren ship paralleled them. While they watched a carrier left the ship, oddly 
appearing as if the ship had simply opened up and burped it out.
Dawn opened communications. “Turn off your force field. We can’t open the 
landing bay for you until you do.”
The engines lowered their hum while the instruments in front of her showed the 
force field had been dropped. At the same time, the ship paralleling them cut 
off to the side, leaving the carrier that approached them.
Dawn pushed the necessary buttons and then turned to meet Trent. Waiting until 
the carrier was docked, and the landing bay doors shut, she pressed the button 
next to the door. It slid open silently, in time for her to see Trent Dar 
disembark from the carrier. Two other men were with him.
His cape swarmed around him as he approached her, the two Gren behind him. In 
all black, with their boots clicking rhythmically against the floor, they 
appeared a dangerous lot. Their long capes made them appear larger than they 
were, and non-blinking black eyes appeared to miss nothing as they neared her.
Dawn stepped to the side, allowing them entrance onto the main part of the ship. 
Trent barely acknowledged her, moving ahead purposely toward the helm.
Just his scent, a mixture of Gren leather and something very much Trent, filled 
her senses, making it hard to do much more than stare at him for a moment. Her 
heart came to a stop, Trent filling her control room, appearing larger than 
life.
“Pull this ship out of the line of battle,” he ordered, his tone fierce, 
demanding.
The two men with him hurried to her control panels, ignoring both her and Borna. 
Suddenly Dawn’s heart began racing too fast. Her breath came to her so quickly 
she felt lightheaded. He was so tall, so powerful, so incredibly in charge.
But this was her ship. Licking her lips, she knew she had to stand up to him, 
once again remind him that he couldn’t walk all over her, leave her and reenter 
her life without a word, taking over the second he was in her presence.
She opened her mouth to tell him as much when he turned and acknowledged her for 
the first time.
“Take over on weapons,” he instructed, his black eyes taking her in with a 
single glance.
He’d barely had time to finish the task of destroying the Bortan chips when 
they’d received word of the ships leaving Bort. After parting ways with Zahn 
Corl, he knew that even though he’d tossed over his resignation to Command 
Center, there was no way he would sit out on this fight. It hadn’t taken much to 
manage a ship. Hoping to reach Dawn’s ship before it was endangered in its 
current orbit, he shouldn’t have been surprised to see that she was already 
aboard, and getting ready to stick her cute little ass where she had no right 
being.
She looked ready to protest, her lips pursing with a defiant expression. If 
there had been time he would have loved to kiss that look right off of her face. 
But the Bortan were closing in.
“We’ve got visuals on the Bortan.” Mash Ke, a Gren for hire that Trent had known 
for quite a while, stood to his left, monitoring their tracking devices. “I’m 
counting six ships approaching at high speed.”
“They’ve sent out scopers.” Trent turned his attention to the screen in front of 
all of them. “Put it up on visuals.”
“Scopers are a bad sign.” Borna had moved to the back of the room. She leaned 
against the wall, her arms crossed, silently stating she had no intention of 
helping them fight.
Dawn had never been more out of her league. It had been one nightmare standing 
on the ground, watching the ships fly overhead, attacking and destroying, with 
no means of defense. Now she stood on the bridge of her ship, capable of 
attacking, of fighting back. Her heart raced so hard she could hardly breathe.
Six long, thin ships, dark and menacing looking, appeared on the screen.
“Magnify.” Trent leaned on his fists, staring at the screen.
Dawn watched his profile, hard and focused, not a muscle twitching, his 
expression revealing nothing that might be going through his head. He’d shoved 
his cape over his shoulders, revealing his muscular arms and the width of his 
chest.
The man took her breath away. Staring at him she could almost forget where she 
was, the incredible danger looming around them. Trent filled her bridge with his 
power, his domination, his ability to master a situation. He’d fought the Bortan 
before, faced them and taken them down. This was her first time.
Dawn forced herself to focus on the screen, her stomach turning with nerves. She 
prayed she wouldn’t get sick. Defying the master had been one thing. Leaving 
Poltar for the first time, meeting her father, taking on the Corl family—all of 
that had challenged her. But none of it compared to what she feared she was 
about to experience.
“They’re geared up to attack.” Trent looked at her, for a moment sensing her 
fear, seeing the nerves that ransacked her body and turned her expression pale. 
“Dawn. Load the missiles.”
He watched her turn her back to him, not responding but simply carrying out the 
order. She wasn’t used to combat of any kind and shouldn’t even be near the 
controls. This ship was hers though, and he doubted she would leave without a 
fight.
Borna’s silent retreat to the back of the room was statement enough. As much as 
he’d like to put her to use, knowing the woman had combat skills that were 
comparable to his own, he respected her decision. Whether she was proud of it or 
not, the Bortan were her people. Unless she offered, he wouldn’t ask her to be 
part of the attack.
Watching Dawn reach for the controls, push the necessary buttons, he admired her 
determination. She stood tall, calmly carrying out the task, preparing the 
missiles and then turning, looking at him. Her gray eyes swarmed with emotions. 
Her brow creased with worry, her lips pursed with determination.
There wasn’t time to learn why she had left Corl’s home. He’d learned of her 
departure when Zahn Corl’s son had contacted him, right before the man parted 
ways with him. Fire had raged through him that once again she’d run off without 
letting him know where she was going. He thought he had made it perfectly clear 
she wasn’t supposed to do that.
The more he learned about her, the more he believed she had been one lousy-ass 
slave. She didn’t do a damn thing she was told to do. However, amazingly enough, 
so far, she seemed willing to take his orders. Damn good thing too. The last 
thing he needed right now was for her to get stubborn when they were nearing 
attack.
A bright light filled the screen and he didn’t miss Dawn duck, suddenly covering 
her face with her arms.
“They’ve attacked,” Rog Mor, the other man Trent had grabbed before heading for 
Dawn’s ship, yelled.
“Open a channel to the Gren fighters. I want to hear all communications.” Trent 
issued the order and Mor pushed the necessary buttons.
The bridge was suddenly full of excited voices, orders and demands flying back 
and forth as the Gren captains moved quickly to counterattack.
Another explosion rattled the ship, the screen filling with light briefly as a 
nearby ship exploded. Tension filled the room, all members ready with their 
fingers on their controls while they watched the screen.
“We’ve got a transmission coming in,” Mor announced.
“Put it on broadcast.” Trent glanced over at Dawn, her expression taut with 
fear.
“Who commands your ship?” It was the high commander of the Gren army, her face 
appearing on the screen as she searched her own screen. Her expression relaxed 
and she straightened. “Trent Dar. I won’t ask why you man a TR-class ship. We 
welcome your assistance.”
Trent nodded, studying the warrior who stared at him over the large screen in 
front of them. He knew little about her, other than she was one of the many 
higher-ranking Gren who maintained the space immediately surrounding their 
planet.
Another explosion rocked the ship, and he gripped the controls in front of him. 
Glancing around, everyone maintained their positions. Dawn’s back was to him, 
her hands white-knuckling the control panel in front of her. He turned his 
attention back to the commander.
“Let us know how we can assist,” he told her, using his calm tone, knowing Dawn 
would do better if she didn’t realize the severity of their dilemma at the 
moment.
They were in immediate line of fire.
Another explosion shook the ship, way too close for comfort. Lights flickered 
around them, and the screen in front of them went blank.
“Trent!” Dawn cried out, her fears climaxing in her tone.
“Switch me over to manual communications,” Trent barked, pulling his comm from 
his pocket.
He quickly wrapped it around his face and spoke to the commander through the 
small device.
“The attack is directly on Greneen,” Mash Ke announced. “The scopers are 
surrounding us, and it appears there are at least ten more ships appearing on 
the scanners.”
“Take out as many as you can,” Trent ordered and at the same time moved over to 
Dawn’s station.
She hadn’t moved when he gave the order. Dawn sucked in air, fighting the panic 
that rushed through her. Bortan were everywhere—all over again. Trent was behind 
her immediately, his powerful arms reaching around her, his hands moving over 
hers as he reached for the buttons.
“I can do it,” she whispered, almost more to herself than to him.
She wouldn’t break. She wouldn’t let the Bortan get the better of her. If she 
was going to die today, she would be damned if she didn’t go down with a fight.
Chapter Nineteen
 
It could have been hours, or maybe days that passed and Dawn wasn’t sure. Her 
hair hung heavily around her face, nervous sweat coating her body. The 
temperature controls weren’t functioning properly. They couldn’t be. She was way 
too warm.
Trent stayed close to her side, managing to move from the helm to her weapons 
panel with quick ease. He had to give it to her, Dawn was holding her own. A few 
times she hesitated, looking around her as if the walls would reveal what was 
going on around them in space.
More than fear, he saw curiosity and wonder in those beautiful gray eyes. The 
men he had hired stayed close to their task, manning their position with skill 
and ease. Borna paced behind them, her nervous energy filtering around them. But 
Dawn had her attention everywhere as if she needed to see everything that 
happened around her and didn’t want to miss a thing. Her expression glowed with 
her emotions showing. She was more alive than he’d ever seen her.
The attacks were serious, more Bortan ships had been sent out than he’d 
initially thought. Adrenaline pumped through him, ships blowing up around them, 
while continual transmissions flooded the airwaves. Calls for help, victory 
cries, all of it surrounded him, filling him with an energy that surged through 
his blood.
Her ship was holding up. Monitoring the battle going on around them, Trent 
grieved silently with every Gren ship that exploded. They moved closer to 
victory, though, every time a Bortan ship exploded.
Curiosity had the better of him, his warrior nature dying to know what compelled 
the race to launch the attack. He had his suspicions, which he kept to himself 
for the time being. There was no way to confirm at this point, even though he 
sensed victory would soon be theirs.
With the initial attack against Gren over, he’d moved Dawn’s ship deeper into 
space, monitoring activity around the other planets. There was time now to focus 
on Dawn, her black hair shining down her back, her expression alive with the 
adrenaline he knew pumped through her. She kept her attention on the screen in 
front of them, although all it showed was deep space.
Dawn wished she knew what was going on. Time no longer seemed to have meaning. 
Silence had loomed around the bridge for too long now. Glancing at the warriors 
Trent had brought with him, she saw the strain etched on their faces. These were 
Gren, trained warriors, yet they still showed the strain of having been in 
battle for so long.
Borna didn’t say anything when she walked silently off of the bridge, 
disappearing through the doorway that led into the kitchen. Dawn stared at the 
door as it slid silently closed, wishing she could go with her, quench her 
thirst, sit for just a moment. Her entire body ached, her muscles cramping and 
her head aching.
“We have an update.” Trent showed no excitement when he made the announcement, 
his tone calm, relaxed.
Dawn looked over at him. At some point he’d removed his cape and his tall 
powerful body appeared as refreshed as if he’d just walked on to duty. Too many 
years as a warrior had seasoned him, made him immune to the stress that wrenched 
through her.
“Apparently the Bortan attacked Poltar and Benox at the same time we were 
attacked,” he said, looking down at his controls as he pressed his comm to his 
ear, listening. “So far, all planets remain in control of themselves. The Bortan 
are weakening.”
Dawn tried exhaling but it came out as a staggered breath. Trent went to her, 
knowing she couldn’t take much more without a break. A good warrior kept his 
crew refreshed, rotating them. He didn’t have that freedom, but he would give 
her this moment while they had it.
“Come with me,” he told her, taking her arm and pulling her to him as he spoke.
She didn’t fight him, didn’t ask any questions, but leaned against him as he 
walked off the bridge. His men would hold up for quite some time, but Dawn 
didn’t have their training, and he needed this moment alone with her.
Borna glanced up at them, having taken respite at the round table in the kitchen 
area, and stood when they entered. He doubted she would man a post, but she left 
them, returning to the bridge when they entered.
“I’m proud of you today, warrior,” he whispered, stroking a damp strand away 
from the side of her face.
Running his hand over the side of her head, her silky hair soft against his 
palm, he brushed his knuckles against her cheek. She looked up at him, a mixture 
of worry and relief swarming in the depths of her gray orbs.
Wrapping his arm around her, he stroked her chin with his fingers, leaning her 
head back further so that he had all of her attention. Silently she called out 
to him, luring him to her with a brush of her tongue over her lip. He took her 
mouth, relishing her taste, her heat, her determination to show him she was 
strong.
She opened to him, her tongue reaching out to greet his, stroke his mouth, feed 
the hunger he hadn’t paid attention to over the past few hours. When she 
stretched against him, pressing her breasts against his chest, reaching up to 
wrap her arms around his neck, he could truly put the battle out of his head, 
feed off of her. Dawn was a gift he knew he could never let go. No woman could 
distract him like she could, offer him so much, and stand by his side during 
battle without a complaint. She wasn’t a warrior. She had no training in battle. 
Yet she didn’t panic, she didn’t beg to leave. Dawn was a natural-born fighter, 
a woman who knew what she wanted and wouldn’t settle for less.
Something washed through him, an emotion he couldn’t name. Ownership—no, 
fulfillment. Dawn was his other half, the woman he needed with him to complete 
who he was. With slow realization, the fact that he loved her took over his 
thoughts.
He wrapped both his arms around her, holding her so close he could feel her 
hipbones pressing against him, her breasts smashed into his chest, her slender 
body molding against him like a perfect fit, the gentle throb of her heart.
“Damn,” he whispered into her mouth, opening his eyes to look down at her 
flushed expression.
“Don’t let go,” she whispered, her lips glistening from his mouth.
“I don’t plan on it.” And he meant it.
For the first time in his life he knew he was where he belonged, holding the 
woman who embraced him with just as much desire for him as he had for her.
“Do you think the battle is over?” she asked, tracing lines with her fingertips 
against his shoulders.
She watched the action, feeling his muscles tighten and the quiver against her 
touch. He was so solid, yet she felt like she could reach right through him. For 
the first time since she’d met Trent Dar, she swore his emotions merged with her 
own. He watched her. She knew that without looking up at his face, he’d relaxed, 
still holding her against him, but she sensed something she hadn’t experienced 
with him yet.
“We don’t have final reports in yet.” He knew it would take hours before 
everyone reported in, and he had a feeling the information wouldn’t be good.
Never had the Bortan staged such a large attack. Something had triggered their 
wrath, their motivation to strike out at all planets at once. Either they were 
close to destruction, and making one final attempt to regain control. Or they 
had been so outraged by some occurrence that they had retaliated out of fury. He 
knew the answers would come soon.
In the meantime, all he wanted was to hold Dawn, be as close to her as possible. 
Now wasn’t the time for lovemaking, which was what he wanted to do. He ached to 
take her into her bedroom, slowly undress her and enjoy every sultry curve of 
her body.
Trent craved to be inside her, fuck her until she screamed. But he wanted—no, he 
needed so much more than that. He gave in to his thoughts. He wanted to make 
love to her, take her in a way he’d never had a woman before. He wanted her to 
know his feelings, his thoughts, and he needed to know hers.
“How much time do we have?” She looked up at him with her long lashes fluttering 
over her gray eyes.
Heat flushed her cheeks, adding to her sensuality. Her gaze was seductive, a 
look he prayed she’d never given another man. Gods. More than anything he wanted 
to know she was his that she would never turn to another man. He needed that 
information, that confirmation.
Dawn moved against him. It was on the tip of her tongue to suggest they go to 
her bedroom. They wouldn’t be bothered. The men he’d brought with him wouldn’t 
dare disturb Trent Dar. And Borna would be fine. Dawn wasn’t worried about her. 
All she could think about was his hard cock that throbbed against her, letting 
her know that he needed her as much as she needed him.
“Not enough time for that,” he told her, a growl escaping him before he could 
silence it.
Dawn sighed, that growl of his soaking her pussy. A pressure began in her womb, 
building, intensifying, slowly consuming her until she swore she would cry out 
with the pain of needing him.
“There’s got to be enough time for something.” She needed him more than she 
needed to breathe.
Running her palms down his arms, gripping his hard muscles, feeling his 
strength, she looked up into those solid black eyes. Never had he looked at her 
the way he did right now. She dared to reach up, stroke his cheek, the smallest 
of muscles twitching when she stroked the bottom of his cheek.
“Woman. You could make me forget our worlds are under attack.”
She sighed, looking down. She was being selfish and he was right. Forcing 
herself to think of how her home had been destroyed, of all the bodies she had 
helped bury, she suddenly felt bad for wanting time alone with Trent. There were 
people dying because of the Bortan attacks. Possibly all planets had seen 
destruction. She didn’t know, and she should be trying to find out, not standing 
here trying to seduce Trent.
A beeping sound grabbed both of their attention.
The door to the bridge slid open and Rog Mor filled the entrance, his intent 
gaze not missing what was happening between the two of them.
He cleared his voice. “Command Center is asking to open a line,” he said without 
giving any indication if catching them in a compromising position bothered him, 
or if the incoming transmission bothered him or not.
“We can take it in here,” Dawn said, letting her hands fall free from Trent.
Trent nodded to the Gren who took a step backward and then turned, the door to 
the kitchen sliding silently shut, leaving them alone once again.
Trent moved away from her, turning his back to her as he faced the wall, pushing 
the buttons to accept the transmission.
“This is Trent Dar,” he said, his voice so formal no one would have guessed 
moments before he’d been in her arms.
She couldn’t help but take in his backside, his broad shoulders, the way his 
black hair fell down his neck. He was so powerful, could have anything he 
wanted, and the passion that burned through him to fight for any cause if he 
deemed it right made her heart swell with a realization that she didn’t want to 
live without him.
Dawn sucked in a breath, the pressure that had consumed her turning into a 
painful need. Her heart stuttered through a few beats, her entire insides aching 
like they never had before. She wanted him—no, she needed him. Trent Dar had 
taken over her thoughts, her body, her entire sense of being. Dawn realized with 
a staggering realization that she might be experiencing love. She could be 
falling in love. The thought brought her pause. There was no way she’d ever 
experienced love. She’d cared for her mom, wanted no harm brought to her. But 
had she loved the woman who’d borne her, who’d given her life? If she had, it 
had never felt like this.
“Dar. This is Mal Ree,” a woman’s voice said. “We’ve had quite a few casualties 
here and I’ve been asked to request you return to Molten.”
“Where is Por Gree? How bad were you hit?” Trent asked, giving no sign that it 
mattered to him how bad the manmade satellite was hit.
“Por Gree is dead. Our casualties are high.” The woman spoke with an eerie 
calmness that chilled Dawn’s blood.
She moved closer to Trent, her thoughts immediately going to Pahr, Reen and 
Rayn. They had no way of defending themselves. She shouldn’t have left them when 
she knew they couldn’t manage without her. She ran her hand up his arm, gripping 
the solid muscle, needing his strength while she stared at the small panel on 
the wall. That piece of machinery embedded in the solid wall of her ship held 
the knowledge of whether the only people from her home still lived or not.
“We need to go there,” she whispered, knowing she wouldn’t be able to think 
straight until she knew if her friends were safe or not.
“I’ve been asked to seek your assistance,” the woman said. “For now, the Bortan 
have backed off. But most of our sensors are down, and we can’t determine if 
there will be another attack or not.”
“On our way,” Trent said without ceremony.
He quit the transmission and then turned, leaving her standing there while he 
returned to the bridge.
“We’re headed to Poltar,” he announced to the small crew, taking his place at 
the helm, and staring at the main screen.
He focused on no one, giving no indication of how the information had just 
affected him.
Chapter Twenty
 
“We’re here!” Rayn clapped her hands, hurrying to the landing bay doors before 
Dawn had even stopped her ship.
Several weeks had passed, and she felt nothing inside. Dawn knew there should be 
some sort of excitement, some sort of deep satisfaction in knowing the Bortan 
had been conquered, their ships had been destroyed and Poltar was now free of 
the disgusting race. She should be elated that she had the funds to rebuild Ryl, 
that she was returning to the only home she had ever known.
It hadn’t been hard to find workers willing to help her rebuild the Ryl 
Plantation. Rayn, Pahr and Reen couldn’t wait to come home, see what had been 
done in restoring their home. Dawn wished she could feel just a bit of their 
excitement.
She brought the ship to a halt, shutting down the engines once it rested on 
solid ground. Following her friends, she exited the place that felt more like 
home to her now than she feared any new home might.
The brightness of the suns made her squint, warm air sinking into her skin.
“We’re home,” Pahr said, wrapping his arm around her.
His hug should have been reassuring.
“It’s good to be here,” she said, managing a smile for all of them.
They walked over the uneven ground, all of them focusing on the large structure 
that the people she had hired had managed to build in the past few weeks. It was 
far from being the home that once stood there, but they had come a long way.
“I want to go inside.” Rayn clapped her hands together, turning with an eager 
grin toward all of them.
“We’ve got smaller cottages suitable to house you for the time it takes to 
finish the main house.” A foreman had walked up to greet them, wiping his hands 
against his shirt. “That cook you hired does a mighty fine job, and the rooms in 
the cottages are clean. I’ll be happy to show you each to where you can stay for 
the time being.”
Dawn didn’t care where she stayed. Returning to her ship would have been fine 
with her. But Poltar needed her. The people were rebuilding, seeing hope, taking 
back their towns and trying to reestablish a life for themselves.
She glanced up at Molten, barely visible against the glare of the suns. 
Somewhere on that manmade satellite, Trent Dar oversaw the command position of 
Command Center. Having been offered the position if he would reenlist, Dawn had 
known Trent wouldn’t turn it down. She needed to be happy for him. And he wasn’t 
that far away, living and working on the moon that orbited her home planet.
He might as well have been in another solar system though. She ached for him so 
desperately but knew he had his work up there, and her work was down here. Her 
people needed her, and she had plenty to do to keep her busy until she dropped 
from exhaustion at night. It was all that kept her going, and all that would 
keep her going.
She wished she could regain her heart, recapture her ability to care. But Trent 
Dar had taken it, and she doubted she would feel again without him at her side.
Walking across the land that she now officially owned, she strayed away from the 
others, her feet leading her to a private area without a thought entering her 
mind. Before she realized it, she stood alone in the quiet meadow, the hidden 
sanctuary where her mother rested.
Sucking in a breath of warm air, she looked down at the simple grave marker. She 
blinked, her eyes suddenly burning from tears that refused to fall.
“Hi, Mom,” she said, her voice cracking. “I’m home.”
A warm breeze lifted the hair from her back, making it sway gently above her 
ass. Her skin was moist, the suns bearing down on her. She wore a dress made 
from the thin fabric so many Poltarian women wore. No longer did she dress like 
a slave. The slightly see-through fabric stayed in style so that women of 
culture could show off their lavish tattoos. Dawn had no desire to adorn her 
body with the beautiful ink drawings. But the thin material was suitable for her 
hot climate.
She squatted in front of the large rock that marked where her mother lay in 
rest. She’d dug the grave herself, lifted her mother’s limp body and placed it 
in the hole in the ground. Tears had burned her eyes when she’d covered her 
mother with dirt, never to see her face again.
“We’re going to make a good home here,” she said, brushing the dirt from the 
stone. “You would be proud of me.”
She hoped that was the case. Sighing, she leaned back on her haunches, unable to 
keep her gaze from Molten, hovering above her, for very long.
“Were you ever in love, Mom?” she whispered, stroking the rock, wishing she had 
someone to talk to about her feelings. “Did you love my father?”
It had never been something she’d discussed with her mother, or with anyone. But 
right now, her mind filled with the image of Trent, she couldn’t stop the 
pulsing need that began in her pussy and worked its way through her body.
More than anything she wanted to take a carrier to Molten, march into his 
office, and demand to know why he hadn’t contacted her over the past couple of 
weeks. Was she simply a fling that he now could so easily put out of his head?
“If you were, I wish you would have warned me how painful it could be.” She 
stood slowly, the heat from the suns only adding to the fire that burned through 
her body.
Need for Trent seemed to escalate with each day. She would’ve thought eventually 
it would go away, thoughts of him subsiding while her daily tasks took 
precedence. But so far, that hadn’t happened.
Wiping moisture from her brow, she turned from the grave, not wanting to go back 
toward the workers she’d hired to bring Ryl Plantation back to life. She didn’t 
want to see anyone.
The suns beat down on her with their heat while she traipsed across the meadow, 
the tall grass scraping against her bare legs. The thin sandals that barely 
covered her feet did little to protect her from the roughness of the untamed 
ground.
This was the world she’d grown up on, though. And for all the years she’d ached 
to escape from it, to be free to explore the other planets, learn about other 
way of life, there was a twisted irony that she’d come back here by choice.
Glancing ahead, waves of heat distorted the view in front of her. It took her a 
moment to realize a carrier had parked next to her ship. She paused, feeling the 
belt that hung loosely around her hips, where her laser was harnessed.
Approaching slowly, she took in the terrain around her, spread out and open with 
no possibilities of anyone hiding from her, unless they were to lie flat in the 
grass.
A drop of sweat trickled down her spine while her heart began beating faster. 
She paused, searching her surroundings, while pulling her laser from her belt at 
the same time. She saw no one.
The carrier was Gren, she recognized the insignia. Her heart raced even faster 
at the possibility that it could be Trent. But anyone could be using a Gren 
carrier. They were common on Poltar. Besides, if Trent were here, he would have 
notified her that he was coming, let her know of his arrival so she could 
prepare herself.
Walking the length of the carrier, she reached the landing bay entrance to her 
ship. It slid open silently, as if expecting her.
The temperature controls had been adjusted and the cool air inside her ship 
attacked her senses momentarily. She walked into the landing bay, laser held out 
in front of her, moving silently until she reached the control panel on her 
ship.
“Identify all members on board,” she said quietly into the speaker that 
triggered her ship’s computer.
“Dawn Corl. Trent Dar.” The computer’s monotone sent shivers through her body.
Her heart leapt to her throat. She wanted to run through the ship until she 
found him, leap into his arms, feel that powerful body pressed against hers.
Forcing herself to breathe normally, she didn’t move for a moment. He’d made no 
attempt to contact her all this time. And now he simply showed up, entering her 
ship as if he owned it. She swallowed the lump in her throat and pressed the 
panel next to the door that led to the main part of her ship.
Trent Dar stood on the bridge of Dawn’s ship, watching the controls in front of 
him that told him when Dawn had entered the ship, and when she’d decided to put 
her laser back on her hip. He waited patiently until the door slid open, and she 
appeared before him.
The sight of her took his breath away. Wearing the trendy Poltarian style of a 
thin dress that was completely see-through, she moved like a goddess onto the 
bridge, her long black hair fanning down her front and parting over her 
shoulders to glide down her back.
Soft gray eyes watched him, her slender body moving like the temptress he knew 
how well she was capable of being. The swell of her breasts, so firm with 
nipples hardening quickly while he watched, made every muscle inside of him 
harden. Her long slender legs, thin yet so well-toned, didn’t quite touch when 
he let his gaze lower to her shaven pussy, so easily visible through the thin 
sheath she wore.
His cock sprang to life, instantly her captive and refusing to remain calm under 
his instruction. Trent took a step toward her, wanting more than anything to 
take her in his arms, carry her to her bedroom on the ship, and fuck her until 
neither of them had the energy to come anymore.
Dawn stopped when he approached, her heart beating so hard that the blood pumped 
through her veins with a speed that left her lightheaded. Just the sight of him 
hardened her nipples into painful peaks. Her breasts swelled, aching for the 
heat of his mouth to soothe them, make her explode while he sucked and nibbled 
on each one.
Her heartbeat matched the rapid pulsing that started in her clit, her pussy 
moistening while a pressure built inside her. Denied passion broke through the 
dam that had kept it at bay. Just looking at him made her cum. Damn it to all 
the hells. Trent Dar looked better than he had the last time she’d seen him.
Standing in front of her, his cape hanging over his broad shoulders and parting 
just enough to allow her to see his muscular chest and fine-tuned body. The body 
of a warrior, alert and ready to pounce.
And here she stood in front of him practically naked, and with no defenses, not 
even in her mind.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, forcing herself to hold her position and 
not run into his arms.
It tore her up inside but she didn’t know why he was here, or why he’d waited so 
long and not contacted her. She wouldn’t be able to handle the pain if he had 
come for military-related reasons.
“You knew I would come for you.” He took a step closer, aware that her guard was 
up but more than willing to take it down.
“Did I?” She raised an eyebrow, wishing she had known beyond a shadow of doubt 
that he would return for her. “You took long enough.”
He fought the urge to grin. She was willing to take him on even as she stood 
before him, vulnerable and almost naked. He loved the fighter in her, the strong 
will that would never admit to fear, or worry.
“There were matters to tend to.” He stood before her now, and still she didn’t 
move, made no attempt to touch him, yet stood before him as if she were a 
seasoned warrior not willing to break before him.
“There will always be matters to tend to,” she whispered, a fiery spark igniting 
in her pretty gray eyes. “I won’t have a man who leaves me alone without a 
word.”
“So now you have demands, do you?” He ached to claim her mouth, kiss that 
pouting expression right off of her face.
“Yes. You are with me, or you’re not. And if you’re not, I’ll find someone who 
will be.” Her heart raced so hard in her chest she was sure he could see it 
pounding against her ribs.
Standing up to him was harder to do than she’d imagined. She ran her tongue over 
her dry lips, almost melting inside when his gaze darted to the act and his lips 
parted just enough that she ached to lean into him and kiss him.
“I don’t do ultimatums.” He reached for her, the urge to rip that flimsy dress 
from her body consuming him.
She grabbed his wrist. “You will this time. If you want me, then you will 
promise right now that I will be by your side always.”
Her fingers wrapped around his wrist did little to stop him. Grabbing the thin 
fabric that barely covered her body, he pulled hard. The material tore easily, 
and he ripped it away from the beautiful curves that tempted him underneath.
“I already have you. You are mine. And I think you know that.”
His growl should have terrified her. Tearing her clothes from her body should 
have been warning enough that she played with fire. But she took a step away 
from him, his male supremacy needing to be slapped down to size. Naked or not, 
he would see her mind, and see how it was going to be.
She put her hands on her hips, glaring at him, mentally daring him to see her 
intelligence and not drool like a fool over her body.
“And Trent Dar, you belong to me. If you wish to keep that honor, then you will 
promise not to leave me again, not to simply disappear like you have a habit of 
doing. You will stay with me, respect me, and treat me as an equal.”
Her knees almost turned to jelly when he rushed toward her, moving so quickly 
that his cape billowed around him. Grabbing her, he lifted her off of her feet 
and moved quickly through her ship. She didn’t have time to cry out. He’d thrown 
her so off-guard with his quick actions that all she could do was hold on when 
he tossed her over his shoulder and marched from one room to the other until he 
had her in her bedroom.
Throwing her onto the bed, his black eyes burned holes through her skin while he 
stared down at her, quickly removing his own clothing.
She didn’t move, but simply lay there, captivated, until he stood naked before 
her. The magnificence of his body stole her breath. His cock was erect, bulging 
with life as it throbbed before her. He was hard as a rock from head to toe, 
muscles bulging everywhere, the prime example of raw, uncontrollable energy. Yet 
she would dare to control him, take him on, let him see that she wouldn’t be 
owned.
When he came down over her, his moves were surprisingly slow, almost gentle. Cum 
soaked her pussy, dampening her inner thighs. She could barely breathe over her 
need to have him inside her, filling her, completing the vast emptiness that 
she’d known since he’d been gone.
“Dawn Corl.” His voice had grown husky. “Don’t you see that you already own my 
heart?”
She stared at him, her mouth suddenly too dry to speak. His expression softened, 
emotions showing on his face that she’d never seen before.
“Do you love me?” she managed to whisper.
“Very much so,” he whispered back, as if the confession ripped something from 
him. “Tell me that you love me too.”
“I love you, Trent Dar.” She’d never voiced it out loud, although she’d known 
the truth in her heart for a while now.
Trent felt a dam break inside of him. Suddenly he wanted her to know every 
thought in his mind, every one of his dreams, every moment that he’d thought of 
her while they’d been apart. But admitting his love was the first step. And he 
had a lifetime to share with her, and every moment of it would be with her by 
his side.
Slowly, with intense deliberation, he slipped inside her, feeling her muscles 
soak his cock, constrict around him, and he knew he’d truly found his home.
About the author:
 
All my life, I’ve wondered at how people fall into the routines of life. The 
paths we travel seemed to be well-trodden by society. We go to school, fall in 
love, find a line of work (and hope and pray it is one we like), have children 
and do our best to mold them into good people who will travel the same path. 
This is the path so commonly referred to as the “real world”.
The characters in my books are destined to stray down a different path other 
than the one society suggests. Each story leads the reader into a world altered 
slightly from the one they know. For me, this is what good fiction is about, an 
opportunity to escape from the daily grind and wander down someone else’s path.
Lorie O’Clare lives in Kansas with her three sons.
 
Lorie welcomes mail from readers. You can write to her c/o Ellora’s Cave 
Publishing at 1337 Commerce Drive, #13, Stow, Ohio 44224.
Also available Lorie O’Clare:
 
Fallen Gods: Jaded Prey
Fallen Gods: Tainted Purity
Full Moon Rising
Lunewulf 1: Pack Law
Lunewulf 2: In Her Blood
Lunewulf 3: In Her Dreams
Lunewulf 4: In Her Nature
Lunewulf 5: In Her Soul
Sex Slaves 1: Sex Traders
Sex Slaves 2: Waiting For Yesterday
The First Time
Things That Go Bump in the Night 2004 anthology
Discover for yourself why readers can’t get enough of the multiple award-winning 
publisher Ellora’s Cave. Whether you prefer e-books or paperbacks, be sure to 
visit EC on the web at www.ellorascave.com for an erotic reading experience that 
will leave you breathless.
 
www.ellorascave.com