Anguissa dreamed of blood. Copious quantities of it, running in the streets of a city she didn’t recognize. She could smell it, she could feel it slipping beneath her boots, she could taste the tang of it in the air. It was metallic, distinctive, yet in this dream, it was more.

It was life.

She was aware of the power in the blood, the elusive ether that animated all beings, that made them more than the sum of their biological parts. Her lust to consume blood was so strong that she knew it couldn’t be her own. She hated the smell of blood herself, but in this dream, it awakened a desire within her that was both powerful and unfamiliar.

An umbro’s thirst for blood.

She was sharing Ryke’s dream again.

Anguissa was curious despite herself. What would this memory tell her about him?

This city must be on Centurios. This battle must have been important. He was at the fore of a battalion of troops, armored, and each fighting with two blades. The other army were feasting upon the dead and were apparently dizzy with the power of the blood. They’d been distracted from the fight by the satisfaction of their base desire. Anguissa felt his disgust for his opponents.

But weren’t they the same kind? Weren’t they all umbros?

Ryke’s troops cut through the ranks of the feasting army, dealing death with merciless efficiency. She felt how the scent of blood fed a ruthlessness deep inside Ryke, how it summoned a ferocity that she associated with umbros.

She also felt Ryke’s own abhorrence of his body’s desires, yet his inability to be anything other than he was. When the battle was over and the street strewn with bodies, his men feasted in their turn.

But they didn’t drink blood. They inhaled the escaping spirits of the dead warriors. Through Ryke’s eyes, Anguissa could see the life spirits rising, like mist over the bodies that could not longer serve their will.

Ryke bent over a dying warrior, looking into his eyes, seeing his acceptance that he would never hunt again. As Ryke watched, the light in the warrior’s eyes was extinguished. A fine mist rose from him, a mist in rainbow hues, and Ryke breathed deeply, inhaling it all.

Anguissa felt its power surge through Ryke’s body, adding strength to his own. She felt the dead warrior’s virility and power redouble Ryke’s own, making him more than he had been before.

The startling thing to Anguissa was that the feasting prompted a similar rush within Ryke as shifting shape did within her. She understood that he was doing what he had been born to do, that he was following the impulse of his kind, and that his very nature rewarded that.

Could she blame him for being what he was?

Could she despise him for being good at what he was?

As she wondered, Ryke straightened and looked over the battlefield after he had feasted, considering the fallen in the streets of the city, and she felt his heart clench with disapproval. She felt the loathing within him, the disgust with his nature that was so similar to her own reaction.

And when a subordinate soldier beckoned him to the side of the leader of the opposing forces, a powerful warrior on the cusp of death with blood on his mouth, Ryke turned away.

“No more,” he said with resolve. “I have feasted to sustain myself, and will feast no more.”

“But...” the subordinate protested, clearly confused.

“He is yours,” Ryke said. “A reward for valor this day.”

Confusion lit the other subordinate’s gaze but then the other warrior breathed his last. At the sight of the rising spirit, again a rainbow-hued mist, the hunger claimed him. Ryke watched him feast, noting that he was insatiable, well aware that the craving was the weakness of his kind.

They could be betrayed by their own desires, just as this opposing battalion had felt compelled to stop and feast before the battle was won. They were more primitive than Ryke’s kind, feasting on blood instead of spirit, but they were umbros, too, and Anguissa felt Ryke’s determination to never be driven by his own base need.

He vowed to rise above it, which meant he would eliminate its power. He would achieve that the same way he accomplished all of his goals, with discipline and resolve, with training and denial, and his body would slowly learn to find sustenance elsewhere.

Anguissa felt his conviction and admired it. Could she have denied her own nature, even if she had desired to do so?

The stream of memories flowed more quickly then, and she had the sense that Ryke was deliberately revealing his truth to her. She certainly was learning more about him than she had in the past. She watched him train himself to survive without feasting. She saw him turn away from temptation, time and again. She saw him find satisfaction of a much lesser kind in the exchange of ideas, in the sparkle of conversation, in the tingle of sexual tension. It was like subsisting on appetizers instead of banquets, but Ryke exercised vigorously to keep his hunger tamed. She was in awe of his conviction and his discipline.

Was this why his father had wanted him dead?

She viewed the memory of Ryke’s capture by the Gloria Furore and felt his love for his son in those last moments they shared together. She was certain then that he was curating memories for her and she couldn’t help but be flattered by that. He skimmed through the interrogation by the Gloria Furore, the refusal of Centurios to ransom him, the profound relief he felt when he learned that his son had been returned home.

They tried to tempt him to show his ability as an umbro, to do what he couldn’t resist doing. They exposed him to blood, to dying warriors, to the bodies of those who didn’t survive interrogation. Ryke held fast, and it was likely only possible because of his own earlier training, his own decision. They taunted him with the spirits of warriors of ill repute and those of uncommon valor. They teased him with possibilities, but Ryke refused to feast. They isolated him from conversation and contact with any sentient beings, but he dug into his determination and did not feast, even when a morsel was offered to him in his starvation.

Could Anguissa have been as persistent?

She lived through the horror of the immersion in fire ants, the excruciating pain of the millions of simultaneous bites. She shared his disgust of them climbing toward his mouth and nose, and the terror that they would suffocate him. The fear didn’t lessen at all with each successive bath, but Ryke did not break.

And she felt the change manifest within him during the last immersion. His skin was aching and raw from the bites. It burned with pain that was only multiplied when the ants began to gnaw upon him again. His fists clenched and his body went taut as the tide of ants rose over his knees, over his hips, over his chest, then the worst possible thing happened: the fire ants climbed over his chin, over his lips. He kept his mouth clenched shut, but they charged into his nostrils. He gagged and his lips parted, and they surged forth like a tide, flowing into his mouth and down his throat.

Ryke roared in horror, convinced that he would die of the biting invasion.

Suddenly, a tide of fire swept through him. He felt as if he was lit from within, as if a flame had taken up residence in his veins. He had been briefly convinced that he was dying, that the torment would end, but then a wave of well-being suffused him.

He had changed.

Ryke felt so potent that he might have been immortal, but he hid his reaction from his captors. He sagged in his bonds and was lifted from the vat. The fire ants retreated, flowing from his every orifice, leaving him transformed from within.

He had been reforged. Ryke didn’t know why or how, and neither did Anguissa. The feeling faded, just as surely as his appetite for spirit and even blood faded. He almost yearned to be dipped in the vat of fire ants again, in the hope that he might escape. Instead, the Gloria Furore tired of him and his resistance and assigned him to the Armada Seven.

He was no longer what he had been, but his transformation to something new was incomplete.

They came out of the jump and Anguissa stared at the display of the deck, her assumptions shaken by all that Ryke had shared.

Was it possible for anyone to change their fundamental nature? Anguissa would have said no, but after the memories Ryke had shared, she was no longer certain.

If anyone could do it, it would require the kind of resolve he’d shown.

Was it possible that she felt admiration for an umbro?

“In the beginning, there was the anima,” Bakiel said softly. Anguissa turned from her position in the captain’s chair to find the custo just inside the door from the lower deck. He looked even less substantial than he had previously, as pale as a morning mist and just as ethereal.

“The spirit?”

“The essence that feeds all living things. Some call it the soul. Some call it the essence. On Centurios, we have always called it the anima.” He nodded and stepped onto the deck at Anguissa’s gesture of invitation. “It filled all living things, giving them purpose and power, coursing through their blood, firing their thoughts, driving their bodies. And as the origin of all life, it became a commodity of value.”

He sat before her, glancing at the display of the stars. They might as well have been alone in this sector of this quadrant, all other vessels far away. They were cruising toward Centurios.

“Where’s Ryke?”

“He sleeps. Between the sedative’s effects and the exertion, never mind the trials of his servitude, he is exhausted.”

Anguissa frowned, knowing she needed to ask the question but already guessing the answer. She had to be sure. “But he slipped into Hellemut. He possessed her anima and drove her to her death. Didn’t he feast?”

Bakiel shook his head. “No, he swore to abandon the habits of his kind many, many years ago. His word is his bond, regardless of the cost to himself.”

“He smells like an umbro.”

Bakiel considered this. “He was born an umbro. He chooses to be both more and less than that.”

“You don’t need to watch over him? I thought that was what a custo did.”

“I watch over him when he slips, not when he sleeps,” Bakiel corrected. “And I serve him in all ways. You need to know his history and so I will tell you what Ryke will not.”

“What’s a luxa?”

Bakiel smiled. “The light in the darkness, of course. The beacon in the night. His destined mate, the one who will make him complete so that he can fulfill the prophecy of our kind.”

Anguissa’s heart skipped. “Funny he didn’t mention that.”

“Ryke has never believed in prophecies. His caste tend not to. They discard them and forget them, but we custos preserve all such details. It is part of our service.”

“Tell me about Centurios.”

“Is that a personal device?” he asked instead, indicating the film applied to her arm.

Anguissa nodded. “I think the energy beams on the Armada Seven destroyed its power source.”

“Let me see it.”

“You do repairs as well as cook?”

Bakiel smiled. “I serve. It is my place and the source of my satisfaction.” He beckoned and Anguissa removed the film, liking the care he showed when examining it. He laid it flat on a console, then searched for tools and parts. The design allowed for easy substitutions, Anguissa knew that, but she didn’t have the skill to do more than basic repairs herself.

As he worked, Bakiel talked, his voice a low litany. “On Centurios, the anima was believed to reside in the blood. A race evolved that could feast directly upon the blood. In time, their hunger and their numbers grew so that they were feared by the others of our world. They were always a minority, but their feasting gave them power over others.”

“I can understand that.”

“Initially, they were indistinguishable from us, but they became hunted for a time. Their days in darkness, hiding from persecution, changed them, made them darker, made them seem less substantial.”

“Umbros.”

“Umbros,” Bakiel agreed. “Once they took to the shadows, more than their appearance changed. They dreamed of the life they had enjoyed before being compelled to hide and yearned to restore it. That could only occur if they were in command, and the scheming began to make that so. They built their numbers, they rose in darkness, and they claimed the royal palace by force. For centuries they ruled, and so long as their blood toll was filled, they were reasonable rulers.”

“The blood toll must have ensured that they were hated, though.”

“Not so long as we waged war and they consumed those we conquered. But in time, the armies led by umbros conquered all of the other cities on Centurios, bringing all under their dominion. In comparative peace, there were fewer to feast upon. Unbeknownst to those outside their kind, some of the umbros were changing. They remained predators and still sought the anima, but they had evolved to find it without feasting upon the blood.”

Anguissa thought of Ryke’s vision in the dream, of the fine mist rising from those recently deceased. That must have been the anima.

“Umbros had always been persuasive and had always possessed a kind of cunning that led victims closer to them. Some called it the ability to cast thoughts into other minds. They learned, from a combination of conquests and experimentation, to slip fully into the mind of a host organism and possess it.”

“Then steal the anima and abandon the host to die.”

“You disapprove.” His tone was matter-of-fact, even as he deftly repaired the device. “The universe abounds with predators of one kind or another.”

“But that’s hunting of the most barbaric kind.”

“Worse than drinking blood? Those victims didn’t survive, either.” He spared her a glance. “What of the victims of your dragon fire?”

The question reminded Anguissa of her sense during Ryke’s dream that they had so much in common. “Stealing a soul seems worse.”

“You’re not alone in that view, Princess Anguissa. In fact, there was dissent within the ranks of the umbros themselves, until the new breed seized power in violent coup. They vowed to end the blood toll, so the people of Centurios supported them. But after the final battle, they feasted upon the anima of the defeated umbros for ten days and nights. Once the animae of the defeated umbros had been consumed, companies of soldiers took to the streets, seizing the animae of citizens. Chaos ruled. It is said that darkness fell completely upon Centurios with that victory.”

“A figure of speech?”

“A truth. The capital city turned from the sun and the planet’s rotation slowed so that the city remains in perpetual twilight. The citizens live in terror and leave their homes as infrequently as possible. It is said that the hunger of the umbros is so great that they can influence the sun, the moon, and the stars.”

Anguissa raised her brows but didn’t comment.

“That they could change the rotation of the planet convinced many that they are sorcerers as well as predators.”

Anguissa remembered the shadows in the arena, the flickering fires around the perimeter of its central ring. “That fear would minimize the chance of rebellion.”

“It has.”

“And what about custos? Where do you come in?

“We always served the umbros. It was our place. But once they began to hunt the anima, they needed greater protection and our role grew in importance.”

“You stand guard over their bodies when they hunt.”

“More than that, Princess Anguissa. We guard their stories and their secrets, as well as caring for their physical form. Ours is a bond of great trust.” He began to put Anguissa’s device back together, his fingers nimble.

“The fear of umbros is universal, even beyond Centurios.”

“And for good reason. They are merciless predators.”

“Yet you serve one.”

“I had no choice, Princess Anguissa. I was born to be what I am.” Bakiel frowned. “Have you ever seen an umbro feast?”

Anguissa shook her head, though she was thinking of Ryke’s dream. “Not exactly.”

“It is terrifying to witness. The umbro slips into the mind of the host and devours the anima, turning the host into a creature commanded by the umbro. All entities fight this invasion to a greater or lesser degree. Nature has an abhorrence of it, and it is uncommon for the situation to last long.”

“The host dies,” Anguissa guessed.

“The host’s physical shell cannot sustain the anima of the umbro, not once it has devoured the host’s own anima. There is too much spirit, too much essence, and the faults in the shell break. It is not uncommon for blood vessels to burst and barriers to be compromised. Once begun, the destruction can’t be halted and such wholesale damage is nearly impossible to repair.”

“But the umbro has the anima.”

“And that is all the umbro wants. In times of war, the umbros can consume the departing animae from the dead, but when Centurios is at peace, the living become prey, just as they were all those years ago when their blood was sought by earlier umbros.” He worked quietly for a few moments. “It’s not a unique impulse to feast upon others. On other worlds, conquerors eat the hearts of those they defeat, wanting to take on the opponent’s valor. Triumphant warriors eat the brains of their foes, or other organs, wanting to build their own powers after victory. They all seek the anima, but only the umbros refined the means of seizing it. And so, on Centurios, a planet ruled by umbros with no moral code and no mercy, a society where one is born into a caste and remains there until death, a civilization that seems sometimes to exist purely to feed the appetites of its rulers for more animae, a prophecy was born.”

“That one day the umbros would fall from power?” Anguissa guessed.

Bakiel shook his head. “Change has to come from within when a society is ruled with such force.”

“Or by invasion.”

“No one would invade Centurios. The Gloria Furore hunt at the perimeter, wanting individual umbros for their own dark purposes, like predators claiming the isolated and the weak, but they have no desire to rule the planet. Centurios has weakened, for many will not trade with us, and many turn away our freighters for fear that they, too, will be invaded by umbros. Life is not good for those outside the imperial palace. Some even choose to be taken by umbros, to end their own misery.”

Anguissa found that even more repulsive than Ryke’s original nature. She was outraged that any ruler would keep citizens not only at disadvantage but in despair. “What was the prophecy, then?”

“That one day, there would be an umbro who would change Centurios, an umbro with a moral code, an umbro who outlawed the act of feeding upon the living, one who would seek and provide justice for all. And this umbro would be recognized because he would find his luxa, and they would rule together for a thousand Centurios years over an era of prosperity and goodwill.”

“A tempting prospect,” Anguissa said, remembering Ryke’s determination to save Bakiel. That had been the first hint that he was different from her expectation of umbros.

Bakiel nodded, his gaze fixed upon the device he repaired. “I was born to the lowest caste on Centurios, a caste devoted to the service of the umbros. We are assigned young to a specific umbro and sworn to serve him in all ways until our death. Many umbros feed upon the anima of their custo, when they haven’t feasted. It is their right to take what they desire, to choose. It is our place to surrender whatever is demanded of us by our umbros, without protest or delay.”

Anguissa was horrified by this situation. “And there’s no reprieve?”

“Death, at which time the umbro has the right to claim the remains of the custo’s anima.”

“It sounds hopeless.”

Bakiel nodded. “Unless, of course, one’s umbro shows signs of fulfilling the prophecy we hold so dear. It was after the battle for the imperial throne that Ryke changed. The fight for supremacy was between bands of umbros because the emperor had died with no sons. Some followed a man who’d chosen the emperor’s daughter, and others, led by Ryke’s father, staged a coup. The fighting was savage. The streets ran with blood as umbros skipped from host to host, undermining the supporting forces of their opponents and building the power of their own anima. Soon, there were few left alive in the capital city. There was no regard for the survival of the other castes. In the end, more than two thirds of the city was dead or dying and terror filled the hearts of those who survived. Ryke’s father crowned himself emperor and feasted slowly upon the animae of those he had defeated, as was tradition. Ryke declined to feast. He went into the streets and helped the other castes. It is rumored that he even shared of his anima and that he saved lives.”

“Did he?”

Bakiel gave her a steady look. “It is not my place to tell you all. But on that day, Ryke vowed never to slip again. I know this because we argued about it.”

“Doesn’t his nature require him to feed?”

“His anima was strong, but his will was stronger. I believed it could not be done, and feared we would lose the one umbro with promise.” Bakiel shrugged. “But he was adamant and he trained hard. For a time, I thought he might evade repercussions for his father seemed indulgent, but after Ryke had a son and the boy turned five, matters changed. Ryke was accused of treason by several senators for refusing to join the feast seven years before and for defying custom by aiding the other castes.”

“And the punishment was to fight a hydra in the arena.”

“It was said that his father defended his son privately, that he ensured Ryke faced a beast that could have been readily defeated. It was said that his father outlawed him only with great regret, because to not do as much would have cost him the imperial throne.”

“Rumors,” Anguissa scoffed.

“Rumors,” Bakiel agreed easily, so easily that she knew he shared her doubts. “And so the only thing of value to Ryke was taken from him.”

“Access to his son.”

“He was provoked into abducting the boy. Everyone knew he would do it. I thought it was too easy to steal the Starpod, but all know I have a suspicious mind when it comes to enemies of my umbro.”

“And your loyalty is returned,” Anguissa noted with a smile.

Bakiel nodded. “He didn’t have to return to the Magnetawan for me, but I knew he would.”

“You believe that Ryke will fulfill the prophecy.”

“He is an umbro of honor. He has found his luxa.” Bakiel raised those pale eyes to meet Anguissa’s gaze. “Now all he has to do is persuade her to return home with him—to step into the fire, so to speak—so that a new day may dawn on Centurios.” He bowed slightly and returned the personal device to her.

Anguissa checked and found that it was functioning perfectly again. She smoothed it onto her inner arm, smiling with pleasure. “Thank you, Bakiel! Are you giving Ryke a lot of water?”

“Yes. The sedative will be flushed out of him as soon as possible.”

“Good. Maybe this short jump will be easier for him than for us.” She glanced to the custo who nodded. “Prepare to jump.”

Mareeqa.

It had to be Mareeqa.

Ryke tried to evade the dream but it was unshakeable. He’d exerted himself so much to show Anguissa what he wanted his child to know about him, that he was tired and the dream of Mareeqa had hold of his thoughts before he could stop it.

Betrayed by beauty, one more time.

In his mind’s eye, Ryke was striding toward the rental room, details of his scheduled breeding clear in his thoughts. He knew his partner had been chosen for the anticipated way her genetics would pair with his. Their offspring would carry the strengths of both partners. It would be a boy.

There was no romance about it. Every detail was calculated for maximum effect. The only concession to popular superstition was that the child would be delivered—or labor would be induced—on the prophesied day for the grandson of the new emperor to be born.

Ryke had declined the option of laboratory insemination. He wanted there to be no doubt that the child was his own. He had chosen instead for his selected mate to be quarantined with him for the entire period of her fertility.

They would have three days and nights of sex.

He would never see the mother of his son again after the birth. Her compensation was already deposited and would be released to her after the delivery of the healthy baby boy.

Ryke would have a son.

He had been chaste for two weeks to prepare. He was accompanied only by Bakiel on the day in question, as the plan for the conception was known to only a few.

The hotel was a sumptuous one, with every pleasure available. Ryke was greeted discreetly in the lobby and quickly ushered to the reserved suite. There was a certain ceremony about it all, and Ryke wondered if their mating would be observed. He was informed that Mareeqa had already arrived, left Bakiel outside the door of the suite, then opened the door.

Bakiel would stand watch. There were no other doors or accessible windows. Meals would be delivered by dumbwaiter, through a passageway too small for any intruder.

The child would be his, beyond doubt.

His heart skipped when the lock clicked behind him and his anticipation rose.

Ryke knew Mareeqa would be submissive, because all women on Centurios knew their place. He was prepared for her to be pretty, as that would be superior genetically. He was certain she would be a princess, because that caste would be a suitable match for his own.

He opened the door to the suite and she was standing there, waiting for him, hands folded before herself and head bowed.

Ryke was astonished both that she was so beautiful and that his body responded to his first glimpse of her with such enthusiasm. Her hair was long and fair, curving over her shoulders and curling slightly at the ends. Her eyes were green and thickly lashed, tipping up slightly at the outer corners. Her lips were full and red, ripe for his kiss. Her curves were more than satisfactory and she was just a little shorter than him.

Delicate. Feminine. Demure.

Perfect.

She was a princess, so soft that her only function in life could be to offer pleasure to a man like Ryke. The way she cast down her lashes sent fire through him. She was almost naked, wearing just a sheer slip of a dress, as if she was dressed in mist and nothing more.

She was his to take.

And he would take her immediately.

Because all women on Centurios knew their place.

Anguissa wanted to scoff aloud. She hoped desperately that Mareeqa would prove to have some intellect or spirit to contribute to the union, but was pretty sure she’d be disappointed. This princess had no spark, no spirit, no opinion and no ideas of her own.

Delicate. Feminine. Demure.

Perfect.

Anguissa couldn’t think of a more boring combination.

Mareeqa succumbed to Ryke’s kiss immediately, capitulating to him as if there was no other option. When he carried her to the couch in the suite, she lay exactly where he placed her, submissive.

Passive.

Anguissa saw that she had even lubricated herself in advance of Ryke’s arrival, to add to his pleasure. She couldn’t bear to watch the woman, who didn’t appear even to be present for the ritual. She might have been having her nails buffed for all the interest she showed in having Ryke make love to her.

She was clearly an idiot.

Instead, Anguissa watched Ryke, which had been impossible during their own mating. He moved with the grace of a warrior and had all the power she remembered. He was a glorious sight in his nudity, all tanned masculine power. Anguissa wanted to lick him from head to toe—or tackle him herself. His muscles flexed as picked up Mareeqa, his hand slid up her thigh to caress her. Anguissa recalled his deft touch on the controls of the Starpod and the surety with which he had touched her.

Even though the Seed no longer called, she wanted Ryke again.

Maybe twice more.

She watched him ease himself into Mareeqa and was amazed that the woman seemed unaffected by his lovemaking. Anguissa could remember the thick hardness of him inside her, the way he had stretched her and filled her, her own hunger for more and more. Ryke gripped Mareeqa’s buttocks and lifted her up, driving deeper inside her. She was as limp as a doll, her hands draped on his shoulders. Ryke kissed her, he claimed her, and he found his release with a triumphant shout.

Did he prefer women to be like this?

Anguissa was disappointed that Ryke’s own thoughts were filled with satisfaction.

Mareeqa smiled slightly, running her fingers through his hair as he rested atop her. Her impassivity would have infuriated Anguissa, but it seemed to incite Ryke’s passion. She watched as he took her again, from behind, and again, in the bathing room, then again just before the dawn.

She wished she could turn off his memory. She had no ability to do that apparently—she tried—or to speed up the endless monotony of Ryke having sex with an inanimate object.

And loving it.

Finally, she couldn’t keep quiet.

I thought you relived your failures in your dreams during jumps. I don’t think anyone could criticize your performance here.

Jealous, Snake-Eyes?

No. I’ve never understood the appeal of pleasure androids.

Mareeqa wasn’t an android.

She might as well have been. Did she ever have an orgasm? Is that what you see as a failure, that you couldn’t make an android respond beyond her programming?

You are jealous. He seemed to find this amusing.

No, but you’re far less than I thought, if this is passion worth remembering. I’m disappointed, Ryke. Only worthless men never take the risk of being out of control.

He was silent and she knew she’d found the root of it. Ryke wasn’t nearly as confident as he liked her to believe.

I could turn that around, Princess. Maybe it’s only worthless women who never take the risk of being out of control.

But I did take that risk. I let you be in charge, Ryke. Maybe you remember me asking you to claim me.

I remember. His words were low and pensive, sending a vibration through Anguissa that she wanted to explore.

It’s a sign of trust, Ryke. How much do you trust me?

More than I should. Ryke’s words were low enough to set Anguissa simmering again.

Good, because you still owe me for Hellemut.

They abruptly came out of the jump, just when she was enjoying herself, and Anguissa felt like junk. Ryke slipped out of her thoughts and she realized she was becoming accustomed to the intimacy of having him so close.

She missed him.

She admired him.

It was time to tell him so.

Why had he dreamed of Mareeqa? Ryke hadn’t been able to think of anything else for those days in the suite, nothing beyond sex with Mareeqa, over and over again. He’d been consumed by his desire for her, yet while the memory provoked some reaction, the time with Mareeqa paled in recollection of being with Anguissa.

The display flickered to life on the opposite wall of the chart room. Anguissa looked tired but she smiled. The sight of her sent an increasingly familiar fire through Ryke.

He recalled the sense of being remade that he had in the vat of fire ants.

He recalled the feeling of being changed when he and Anguissa had first made love.

He avoided the conclusion Bakiel would have made, but still wanted to have one last union with Anguissa, before their ways parted forever.

He wanted to give her something to remember.

“Hello again and welcome to our final approach to the Centurios starport,” Anguissa said. “We’ve just come out of the jump, but have a little cruise before we secure a docking location.”

“I know where the wormhole comes out of deep space, Snake-Eyes. This is my home, remember.”

“I do remember, Ryke. I also remember that all princesses on Centurios know their place. Think I’ll be able to start an awakening?”

Bakiel chuckled, revealing that he was on the deck as well.

“Or maybe as an abomination, I won’t have a chance.” She leaned closer to the comm, her eyes dancing. “How’s that sedative, Ryke?”

“Wearing off, thanks.” Ryke rubbed his chin, feeling some growth of beard. Two jumps in rapid succession and his belly felt empty again. “Why?”

“Because I won our bet, Ryke, and I’m in command of this vessel. I’m thinking of giving you a direct order.”

Ryke smiled, knowing exactly what that order would be. “I’m feeling particularly obedient, Snake-Eyes. Don’t miss your chance.”

Ryke made it to the captain’s quarters just before Anguissa and paused to watch her approach. He loved the grace and power of her walk, that she was forthright and resolute. She was unlike any woman he’d ever known and he was surprised to realize that he liked that just fine.

In a way, it was too bad that they had no future together.

He wanted to see their child and was saddened that he never would.

Anguissa halted a few steps away from him, her snakes swaying, her dark eyes filled with mysteries as she studied him. “Tell me why you didn’t feast on Hellemut.”

“You are what you eat,” he acknowledged.

“I’m serious.” She came into the room and closed the door behind herself, sealing them into the space together. It immediately felt warmer and more intimate, and his awareness of her redoubled.

He wanted.

So he explained. “So am I. The problem with feasting upon animae is that you take on more than the energy of the life force. You absorb the attitudes and prejudices, the anger and the hatred, too.”

“Not the love?”

“There isn’t a lot of that on Centurios. I’m thinking that Captain Hellemut’s stores were a little low, as well.”

The barest smile touched Anguissa’s lips then disappeared. She looked soft and seductive, yet enigmatic. He couldn’t tell what she was thinking and he didn’t want to slip to find out. There was something beguiling about Anguissa.

Something it might take a lifetime to understand.

“Thank you for sharing those memories,” she said quietly.

“Maybe you’ll have something good to tell our child about me.” He lifted her hand in his, winding his fingers between hers.

“You don’t have to go back to Centurios.”

“I do.”

“Your son.”

Ryke nodded. “We had a wager, Fire-Breath, one that you won. Are you going to collect?”

Her smile was immediate, lighting her eyes with anticipation. “Is that an invitation, Soul-Stealer?”

“This is probably as close as I’ll ever get to being at your mercy.”

Anguissa laughed. “Oh, don’t say that. I can be very persuasive.” Her hand slid over his shoulder and down his chest, her gaze locked with his. “You might like it this way.”

“Go ahead,” he murmured, his anticipation rising. “Convince me.”

Anguissa tugged off her boots. She stood then and smoothed back her snakes, then eased out of her uniform, revealing the creamy perfection of her skin. Ryke reached for his own boots but she seized his hands, guiding them to a rail over his head. “Don’t make me tie you down,” she purred. “You’re helpless, remember?”

“I’m never helpless,” he said and realized it was true. He could always slip, and Anguissa had shown him that.

She leaned over him, soothing him with her touch. “Then pretend to be, just this once, just for me.” She punctuated her request with a sweet hot kiss, one that lit a blaze deep inside him. “You might like it,” she whispered.

Ryke was starting to think he just might. He knew she wouldn’t try to injure him, even though she had the power to destroy him—just as he had the power to destroy her and chose not to use it. Ryke found himself capitulating to her, even though she was a dragon shifter. Her kiss became hot and hungry, proof that she had sensed the change in him, and he felt that inferno rise within him.

He recalled Mareeqa’s passivity and knew that would never arouse him again.

He liked his princesses fiery now, thanks to Anguissa.

She broke their kiss and turned her back upon him, giving him a fine view as she removed his boots. She slid her hands under the top of his uniform and pushed it over his head, tossing it across the room as she surveyed him with satisfaction. Her hands were beneath the waist of his pants, her fingers awakening his skin everywhere she touched, and she worked them free as well.

He was nude before her, her smile telling him exactly what she thought of the view. She knelt on the sleeping couch beside him and it was all he could do to keep from reaching for her. She brushed her lips across his, teasing him, then closed her hand around his erection and gave him a gentle squeeze. Ryke caught his breath, Anguissa smiled, then she bent to kiss his nipple.

He gripped the bar with both hands, wanting to seize her with all his might but also needing to keep his side of the bargain. It was unnatural to just lie back and let her pleasure him, but incredibly exciting, as well. She sucked on his nipple, teasing it to a tight peak, then grazed it with her teeth. He felt himself get harder and thicker, felt the pulse in the base of his cock, and heard himself moan. Anguissa teased his nipples a little more, waiting until he moaned again before she braced herself over him and took his erection in her mouth.

Her mouth was soft and warm and sweetly teasing. He felt her tongue and thought he would explode, then opened his eyes to find a feast arrayed before his eyes. He whispered her name and Anguissa lowered herself over him. He licked her and felt her shiver and loved that he wasn’t going to be passive in this encounter after all.

They teased each other for what seemed like an eternity, building the flames of desire and tormenting each other with the promise of release. Each time Ryke got close, Anguissa changed her movement, lifted her head, or paused to blow upon him. He was writhing beneath her, his muscles taut and his breath coming quickly, his pulse hammering in his ears. He was slick with her juices and hungry for more, but she denied him, making him yearn to conquer and claim.

But then she might abandon him.

He had to charm her, but charm was not a trait Ryke possessed in abundance. He was used to taking or denying, to claiming or discarding. He usually persuaded with force.

He decided to learn. He touched Anguissa more boldly, echoing her game of tease and retreat. He saw her sway over him, felt her heat rise, tasted the ardor of her arousal. He tormented her, keeping his hands on the bar, using his tongue and his lips and his teeth, even as she used the same weapons against him, until she moaned from the very bottom of her soul and shook violently.

She turned to face him, eyes flashing. “You’re wicked.”

“I’m trying to be persuasive,” he replied and grinned at her quick intake of breath.

“I want your hands on me,” she said as she moved to straddle him the other way. Ryke was quick to comply and heard himself purr as he caught her butt in his hands. “I want you to touch me, Ryke, touch me as if you can’t get enough.” Ryke didn’t hesitate to comply. He pulled her closer, wanting her more than he’d wanted a woman before. She bent and seized his head in her hands, bracing her weight on her elbows as she kissed him.

He liked her ferocity. He liked that she demanded what she wanted.

He liked best of all that he could give it to her.

She rolled her hips and took him inside her slick heat with one smooth gesture, a move that made him catch his breath. He thought his heart might explode when she eased lower and accepted all of him. He felt himself shake, then opened his eyes to find her smiling at him.

“All mine,” she whispered and he liked that just fine. He had one hand on the back of her waist and the other on the back of her neck, his embrace full of the perfection that was Anguissa. His heart thundered and he knew that no other woman would ever compare.

“For now,” he countered. “Unless you come to Centurios.”

“Will you make it worth my while?” she teased and Ryke inhaled sharply as she moved.

“Always, Princess,” he managed to whisper, his voice hoarse, and knew it was true.

She straightened, sitting atop him proudly, her breasts inviting his caress. He cupped them, teasing their peaks, loving the view. “Convinced yet?” she asked, then stretched her arms over her head and began to ride him.

Hard. Her hips rocked and her breasts filled his hands. Her back was arched and she gasped as she rubbed herself against him. His entire body was taut, but she drove him onward, demanding more than he’d imagined he could give.

Ryke felt there wasn’t enough air in the cabin. “Anguissa!” he cried but she just rode him faster, driving him on to his release. He was perilously close but he wanted them to find pleasure together. He eased one hand between them, touching her so that she moaned. She bit her lip and stretched up, her skin flushing so beautifully that Ryke didn’t want to blink. Her gaze locked with his as they moved faster and faster, driving each other to the precipice.

Then he pinched her and she roared with her release, locking her legs so tightly around him that he could only do the same.

Anguissa was dizzy.

But satisfied.

Was she ever going to get enough of Ryke?

She braced her chin on her elbow and surveyed him. He was already watching her, his eyes narrowed to slits and a smile curving his firm lips. She reached out and traced the outline of his mouth with a fingertip. “Are you my HeartKeeper?”

“I don’t know,” he murmured, his voice rumbling in his chest and his eyes glowing. “What are the job qualifications?”

“Love, Ryke. Something you don’t believe in.”

He rolled then, easing her beneath himself and bracing his weight over her. “You might change my thinking about some things, Snake-Eyes, but never that.” He kissed her before she could argue with him and she felt the lack of his presence in her thoughts.

“We’re close to Centurios,” she whispered when he lifted his head. He surveyed her, his eyes glinting, and she wondered what he was thinking.

Then he rose and tapped the comm to the deck. “How is everything, Bakiel?”

“Quiet and stable. We’re within hailing distance of the Centurios starport.”

“Good.” Anguissa came to Ryke’s side to speak into the comm and he smiled down at her, that cocky satisfaction lighting his gaze. She watched him, anticipating his reaction to her next words. “Tell them I’ve come to collect the bounty on Ryke. I think the live one, but I could still change my mind if he doesn’t behave.”

“If you’re going to be an opportunist, Snake-Eyes,” Ryke said, with a thread of humor in his tone, “you should collect the higher bounty, the one for delivering me dead.”

Anguissa smiled because she saw his confidence that she wouldn’t do that. “But that won’t answer the question, Ryke. When someone wants me dead, I like to know why. Don’t you?” She gave him a look, watching relief settle through him, then stretched to kiss his cheek. “I’m going to put you in shackles,” she whispered.

“Not a chance,” he replied, sealing his words with a kiss. “I’ve had my share of being controlled.”

“But...”

“But nothing,” he said, interrupting her. “I might need to defend us.”

Anguissa had her doubts about that plan and didn’t hide them. “It would be good if you could keep from looking like a conquering hero.”

Ryke chuckled. “There’s only so much of my nature I can change, Princess.”

Then she left the cabin, striding toward the deck.

She felt him watching her go.

But she didn’t hear him in her thoughts. They’d already parted ways, for all intents and purposes, and that saddened Anguissa more than she knew it should.

She didn’t love Ryke.

She couldn’t love Ryke.

She wouldn’t.