“If the guest inquires, sir, how long might you be?”
Mersan healed the skin covering Oberon’s back and moved the RGR to the skin of Oberon’s thigh. Our prisoner didn’t even flinch as nearly a third of his muscles were exposed. Fucking Prillon wasn’t even tied down, the lack of bonds irrelevant. He knew there was no way out of this room, let alone off my ship.My ship. My rules.
Hewouldbreak. The female bride, whoever she was, wasn’t mine. She would have to wait.
“As long as it takes.”
2
Willow, Somewhere in Sector 438
The smilenearly fell from my lips as the sharp pain of transport lingered, my entire body tingling and burning, feeling like my foot did when waking up after I’d sat on it for an hour. Not pleasant. Luckily, the sensation didn’t last long. Hopefully, I wouldn’t need to transport often. Not fun.
“Lady Helion. Welcome aboard.”
I gave myself a moment to settle—and make sure I could still move all of my very present and accounted for limbs—before turning to face a large Atlan warlord, covered head to toe in battle armor. I looked around, eager to seehim.Them.My mates.
The Atlan transport officer was the only other person in the room.
Where was my mate? And my second?
Welcome aboard. Lady Helion.His greeting finally registered. “Thank you.”
Already I’d been greeted with my new title. This was incredible. Everything except the part where my mate was supposed to be here to greet me and make me feel welcome—and wasn’t. “Where is Commander Helion?”
“He sends his apologies, my lady. He is—in a meeting—and cannot leave.”
A meeting? Well—he was a commander after all. Important business, running a ship. If it was anything like life on Earth—based on my time on Prillon Prime, politics were politics on every planet—my mate would most likely welcome a reprieve. “That’s all right.I’ll just pop in and say hello. I promise I won’t stay long.”
“I—”
I stepped down, off the transport pad, watching the Atlan as he stuttered.
Like he could stop you.
He’s huge. He could totally stop me.
Size isn’t everything…
“I promise, I’ll be in and out.” No, I wouldn’t stay long at all. I would greet him, hug him and, if I could somehow manage to pull it off, kiss him so he would end his meeting, take me somewhere private—or not, naughty me—and claim me immediately. I was still very aroused from the processing simulation, and waiting made me nervous. Worse than nervous, anxious, nauseous and light-headed. “I assume someone will take my suitcase to our private quarters?”
“Of course, my lady. But—”
“Excellent.” I walked to the door, which slid open as I approached. The corridor beyond was small and narrow, much smaller than I’d anticipated for a battleship. Then again, I’d never been on a real one. The shuttle ride to Prillon Prime was a blur I preferred not to remember. I guess I made assumptions based onStar Trekepisodes. Maybe these ships were built more like submarines. Smaller than I would like, but at least I wasn’t an Atlan. Poor guy probably had to duck down and walk sideways everywhere he went.
Speaking of, the warlord followed close behind as I walked through my new home. The walls were barren, mostly gray. Where were the color-coded stripes and segments that would let me know where I was on the ship? I’d studied Prillon ship design, just in case I was matched to a warrior who was still serving out in space. Like my commander.
Green for medical, shades of orange, brown and cream for civilian and family areas, blue for engines and science stuff, red for command and battle zones. There were more, and subtleties in depth of color depending on how close one was to the center of each area of the ship.
Gray. More gray. A bit of metallic black on support beams. Darker gray for the doors we passed. I lifted the front of my dark skirt and looked down at my feet. The floor was black and cold, the thin material of my matching blue slippers not much insulation.
What a strange ship.
When I came to a juncture where my path split into three possible options, I glanced over my shoulder. “Is the commander this way?” I pointed down the branch to my right.
“No, straight ahead, my lady. But I don’t think—”
“Thank you.” I hoped the floor was clean. I really didn’t want to meet my new mate with dirt or grease—whatever kind of filth they had in outer space—ruining the hem of my dress. I hated being dirty. Couldn’t tolerate anything on my body or clothing that didn’t belong. Not since…
