“What’s a girl got to do to get some food around here?” Dayna hitched herself up on the glossy countertop in the casino’s main kitchen.

“Go, you’re invading my space.” Chef Derol brought down a knife, chopping open a bright-red fruit called heppla.

Dayna grinned at him. “We both know you like it.”

He made a harrumphing sound. Then he handed her a piece of the fruit. “The boss ordered more heppla for you, even though it’s out of season. He noticed you like them.”

Hmm. She took the piece, popped it in her mouth, and moaned. “He notices everything.”

A wide smile graced Derol’s narrow face. “He does. Especially when a beautiful woman is involved.”

She snatched up another piece of fruit and shot the chef a sour look. “He has lots of beautiful women around him.”

Another deft move of the knife. “I should have said a beautiful, smart, and interesting woman.”

She grinned. “Charmer.”

“Preparing a big feast for the party tonight.” Derol started chopping again.

“My friend is singing.” Dayna fiddled with a slice of heppla. God, she hoped Mia had truly forgiven her after the episode at the fight. She blew out a breath.

Then the chef looked past her, going quiet. She turned her head and spotted Tannon, looking grimmer than usual.

“Dayna, Rillian asked me to find you. Caravan Master Corsair and Neve are here.”

Her heart leaped, and she jumped off the counter. “Thanks, Derol.”

“Chef Derol.”

She blew him a kiss, watching his cheeks turn dull red and his chest puff up. Then she was headed for the elevators with Tannon. As usual, the ride was silent. Tannon was not a stunning conversationalist.

Soon, she was striding down the hall to Rillian’s office.

When she stepped inside, she instantly saw the couple standing on the other side of Rillian’s big desk.

Rillian sat back in his chair, as elegant and controlled as always. Instead, Dayna focused on the visitors. Their pale, desert clothes should have looked out-of-place in the Dark Nebula, but they suited the pair.

Neve Haynes was a striking woman with an athletic body, long, black hair, and skin many shades darker than Dayna’s. She turned, her gaze settling on Dayna. She had pale-green eyes that didn’t miss much. Dayna knew the woman had been a corporate spy prior to her abduction.

“How are you, Dayna?” Neve asked.

“Alive,” Dayna answered. “Free.” Mostly. She ignored the tightening in her chest, and moved forward.

Dayna looked at the man at Neve’s side. Compared to Rillian, the two men were night and day. The casino owner and caravan master. One was long, lean, and dark, the other was tall, muscular, and tawny. One was elegance personified, while the other one had a rough, wild edge. Suave and polished contrasted against roguish adventurer.

“Dayna, it’s good to see you looking so well,” Corsair said with a smile.

“Thank you,” she said. “And thank you again for rescuing me from the witch.”

He inclined his head, his hand reaching for Neve’s. “No one deserved to be left to that drakking sand sucker.” He looked to Rillian. “Galen informed us that the map can’t be decoded.”

Rillian nodded. “Unfortunately, it’s missing some sort of key.”

Neve made a growling sound, and Corsair brought her hand up to his lips. “We’ll find her.”

“Galen also informed us about the murders,” Corsair added.

Rillian leaned back, placing his threaded hands on the desk. “The Thraxians are warning me off.”

Neve tensed. “Will you stop helping us find Zaabha?”

“I don’t cave to pressure from anyone, Ms. Haynes.”

Neve blew out a breath. “I need to find my sister.”

“And I need to remind the Thraxians that they were unwise to mess with me and mine. I’m planning to help Galen find Zaabha. And I will help destroy the Thraxians.”

Neve went still. “You’ll ensure my sister is safe before you burn Zaabha to the ground.”

“Of course.”

“You’ve had no success with the map, either?” The woman’s voice was ripe with frustration.

“No.”

“We’ve been asking around,” Corsair said. “We have nothing.”

Rillian steepled his fingers. “Galen has had Zhim and Ryan working on it. I’ve had some of my security team, some of the best on the planet, take a look. So far, we’ve had no luck deciphering it. They assure me that without the key, the map is worthless.”

“The witch was sly, cunning,” Neve said. “Hungry.” She glanced at Dayna.

Dayna felt her muscles tighten. “Yes, I feel that hunger. The symbiont…requires feeding.” She blew out a breath and looked at Rillian. “Which is something I’m still working on.”

“So the witch is still toying with us from beyond the grave,” Neve continued. “There is another piece to the map, a missing key. She wouldn’t have made it impossible to find.”

“So where’s the rest of it?” Dayna asked. “Where is this missing piece?”

“What if it died with her?” Rillian suggested.

Corsair slid an arm around Neve. Dayna watched, fascinated, as the tough woman melted into the man’s touch.

“We won’t give up,” Corsair said.

Neve looked up at him, a soft look on her face, and nodded.

She trusted him. Dayna blinked. They’d clearly been through a lot, if a woman as tough as Neve trusted this man so completely.

Suddenly, Dayna felt a twinge through her belly. A pang of hunger.

She shot Rillian a panicked look.

Black and silver eyes took her in and immediately understood. All smooth charm, Rillian rose. “Thanks to both of you for coming in. I’m sorry it’s been a wasted trip. Rest assured, we aren’t giving up, and we’ll be in touch as soon as we have news.”

Corsair nodded. “If I get anything from my desert contacts, I’ll pass the information along.”

“Please, I’d love to extend the entertainments of the Dark Nebula to you both.”

The pair stilled, and then Corsair grinned. “A crowded, noisy casino full of people. Ah, maybe next time.”

Clearly a casino wasn’t an attractive prospect when you spent your life in the vast quietness of the desert. Dayna clenched her hands together, fighting the rising sensations inside her. She could hear the pair’s solid heartbeats.

“How about a plush, private suite, including a plunge pool?” Rillian said with a faint smile.

Corsair cocked his head. “Well, that—”

Neve elbowed him. “Not today.”

Corsair grinned. “Goodbye, Dayna.”

Neve gave her a nod. When the woman’s perceptive gaze skated over Dayna’s face, she mentally urged the couple to hurry.

“Someone will meet you at the elevators to escort you out,” Rillian said.

Once Corsair and Neve left, Dayna let her hands fall to her sides and pulled in some sharp breaths.

Rillian skirted his desk. “Dayna—”

The pain was growing—in her gut, her chest. It twisted hard, and God, it was horrible. She bent over, tears pricking her eyes.

A warm hand wrapped around the base of her neck. “You need to feed.”

She couldn’t let this keep happening. It was time to face her new reality. On her own terms.

She looked up at him. “Help me? Please, help me feed.”

* * *

Rillian felt a ripple of heat through his body. His symbiont stirred.

He nodded at Dayna. He saw unease in her gaze…but also trust. That was something he knew she didn’t give easily.

Satisfaction flooded him. He realized he wanted this woman’s trust more than anything.

He grabbed her hand, leading her toward the couch. He sat and pulled her down beside him. She perched nervously on the edge.

He turned her hand over, studying the strong lines of it. So damn capable. Then he pressed her palm to his chest. Her fingers clenched on his shirt.

“Start small,” he said. “Don’t do it in an overwhelming rush. And remember, I’m giving freely.”

She swallowed. “Can I hurt you?”

Always thinking of others, his Dayna. “I won’t let that happen.”

She blew out a breath. “Is it…? How should it feel?”

“For me?”

She nodded, pushing a strand of her hair back behind her ear.

“It isn’t unpleasant,” he answered diplomatically. “Every feed is different.”

“And for me?”

“It isn’t supposed to hurt, Dayna. How it feels is different for everyone, and every combination of people.”

She licked her lips. “It hurt when the witch fed.” There was a faint tremor in her voice.

That drakking bitch. Rillian wished the witch wasn’t dead so he could show her just how it felt to be prey. “Because she wanted it to.”

“Is it…?” Dayna’s fingers flexed on his chest “…sexual?”

Ah. “Not every feed. Again, it depends on the people. A symbiont can’t create attraction where there is none.” He placed his hand on hers, rubbing the thundering pulse at her wrist. “Remember, the symbiont doesn’t generate emotions, only amplifies what’s already there.”

She nodded again, setting her shoulders back. “I’m ready.”

“Start when it feels right.”

She closed her eyes, and a second later he felt it, a pleasant tug at his chest.

He kept his gaze fixed on her face. Her eyes snapped open and were glowing molten gold. She increased the pull of energy she was taking from him. Her lips parted. “Rillian—”

“You’re doing well.”

But as she fed, she shifted restlessly. And Rillian felt desire ignite in him like fire. His symbiont flared to life and his cock hardened. He gritted his teeth.

It appeared that with Dayna, feeding would be sexual.

“I’m hurting you,” she gasped.

“No.”

“I can see the way your jaw is tensed.” Her voice was husky. “Your body’s stiff.”

Drak. If only she knew. “I’m fine, Dayna. Keep feeding.”

She pressed closer. “I… I…”

Now, he saw something else in the glow of her eyes. Desire. Heat.

Control it, Rillian. He gripped his thighs, fingers digging in hard. But he couldn’t stop himself from moving a fraction closer. She moved, too, their bodies brushing. Her hand was hot on his skin.

Then they were reaching for each other. She straddled one of his thighs. She was moving her hips against him, still taking energy from him.

Drak. She was the most beautiful thing he’d seen, and he could feel his control slipping.

“I’m hot.” She was riding his thigh now, and reached up with her free hand to tear her shirt open. Her breasts spilled out, full and gorgeous. Her honey-gold skin was flushed and he saw the stone glowing bright gold on her chest.

His needs—all of them—were so strong. He wanted to feed on her and draw her tantalizing energy into him. He also felt a driving need to push her down on the floor, slide inside her, and fuck her brains out.

He was holding on to his control by the thinnest thread. She was riding his thigh hard now, hair tumbling around her shoulders.

“Rillian.” Her voice was thick and husky. “Feed. Take from me.”

He groaned. “This…is about you.”

“Rillian.” Her head fell back. “Feed, please.”

A joint feed. A give and take.

“I want you to do it,” she murmured.

That husky admission snapped his control. He could almost hear the echo of it in the room.

He reached up and yanked his shirt open, buttons flying across the floor. He crushed her close, his mouth slamming down on hers.

Instead of her palm to his chest, he pulled her closer until he felt her breasts and the hot stone below them press against his skin. Then he fed.

He pulled energy from her, driving her hips faster, feeling the heat and damp between her legs on his thigh. His own power flooded her, and her energy raced through his body.

Light flared, and she cried out his name.

Drak. So good. She was on the verge of coming and he was about to spill in his trousers. And Rillian didn’t care at all.