Damon studied Hera’s flushed face. She was lying, or at least holding something back. He could keep her imprisoned until she told the truth, but he wanted her to trust him.

“As much as I want to linger here, we have to tell the others.”

She stiffened beneath him. “Tell them what?”

“Light is what it kills the creature. I heard the creature scream and die when the bright light illuminated the room.”

“I’m not going to sleep with everyone infected.”

He blinked, then slowly grinned. “Nor would I allow it.”

She gave him a quizzical look. “I don’t understand.”

He kissed her gently on the forehead. “The only reason why it worked with me is that you’re my mate. It wouldn’t work with anyone else.”

“Why?”

“According to the Fates, sex between designated mates create an extraordinary power. I’d never believed it. Until now.”

“But there are no females on your planet. How will this help anyone on Zalara?”

“I don’t know, but on the planet, the creatures always hid in the shadows. Maybe they weren’t just hiding, maybe bright lights can hurt them.” He reluctantly rolled off her, then tilted her chin. “Come on, get dressed.”

She folded her arms over her beautiful breasts. “So, you’re just going to announce to everyone that we had fantastic sex and now ding-dong the wicked creature is dead?”

“I don’t understand why you’re so upset.”

“No, you wouldn’t, would you?”

He reached for her, but she lurched away and snagged her clothes off the floor. He was completely at a loss for words and couldn’t, for the life of him, figure out why Hera was madder than a pissed off scoli.

They quietly got dressed. Damon kept going over their conversation and couldn’t figure out where he’d earned her scorn. Human women were so different than Zalarain women. They hungered for sex as much as any man, but maybe this wasn’t true for humans.

Hera took the tie out of her hair and quickly braided it. Her cheeks were chafed, and her lips were swollen from where he’d kissed them. The others would take one sniff or one look and would know immediately what they’d been doing. Hell, Tryker knew what would happen when he and the orderlies brought him here.

She headed for the door, and he thought he saw tears glistening on her eyelashes and her lower lip trembling. He blocked her path.

“Will you please tell me what’s wrong?”

“Do you remember what I asked you before we slept together?”

His stomach tightened at what was coming. “I do.”

“Good. I healed you. So, now I want you to take me home.” She narrowed her eyes. “Don’t disappoint me.”

With that, she straightened her shoulders and walked out the door without another word. He followed behind her, not knowing how to tell her that he could never let her go.

He allowed her to lead the way to sickbay. She was a strong woman and possessed a power he truly didn’t understand but deeply admired. Zalarain women had mystic powers, but none of them–not even Cosima–demonstrated the ability Hera had. She intrigued him, but now, for some reason, she didn’t want anything to do with him. Human women needed to come with a manual.

They quietly entered sickbay, and Tryker and Taog hadn’t heard them enter.

“Don’t you understand, Captain,” Tryker said. “I told you the thing won’t die. We’ve tried heat and radiation that would burn a Zalarian to a crisp. We’re all stumped.”

Damon walked past Hera. “You need to try light.”

Tryker and Taog jerked around.

“Damon.” Tryker flicked his gaze over him. “Your bruises–”

“Gone.”

Taog walked around him. “Burns?”

“Gone.” He smiled and tilted his head toward Hera. “Thanks to Hera, the creature is dead.”

Taog looked between them. “You mated?”

“Yes,” Hera blurted. “And no, I’m not sleeping with everyone on Zalara, Captain.”

Taog stiffened. “I wasn’t asking you to. Damon, what happened?”

“When we climaxed–” He glanced at Hera, and she was twelve shades of red. He wished there was another way to say this, but there wasn’t. “She illuminated a brilliant light that lit up my quarters. I swear it was as bright as Blostos.”

“You mentioned that before, Damon,” Tryker said. “We tried light. That’s what I’m trying to tell you, the blasted thing won’t die.”

“But perhaps a certain kind of light,” Damon said. “It was an aura that killed it.”

“Hera, can you reproduce this again?” Taog asked softly.

She glared.

He held up his hand. “I don’t mean by sex. Do you think you can conjure this up without sex?”

The tension in her pinched face lessened, and she shrugged. “I didn’t even know I had this power and would have no idea how to call upon it again.”

“Maybe you’ve always had it,” Damon said. “You say you can only remember three months ago, but what if you had it before and never knew it?”

“I guess that’s possible,” she said slowly. “But I’ve been wracking my brains out to try and remember, and every time I do, I get a Titanic of a headache. This won’t be any different. I’ll just get sicker than a dog.”

Damon went over to Hera and picked up her soft hands; luckily she didn’t jerk them free. “There is someone on board this ship that can help you remember.”

“Who?” she asked, squeezing his hands tight.

He liked hearing the excitement in her voice and seeing it in her eyes, but he knew it would turn to anger when he answered her.

“The queen–Cosima.”

Her brow wrinkled, and her lip trembled, but in a split second, she stood taller. “Of course. Who else would it be?”

She slowly untangled her fingers from his.

Tryker shook his head. “Impossible. She’s no good to us now, almost driven mad from the pain. I’ve been giving her sedatives to keep her from taking the ship.”

“We need Greum,” Damon said. “They can heal each other.”

“Exactly how do you propose we get Greum?” Taog asked. “He nearly burnt you to a crisp. He’s not going to come here willingly unless it’s to murder me and take over the Orion.”

“I believe the creatures were keeping them apart on purpose,” Damon said. “It’s too dangerous to bring Greum here, but perhaps we can bring them together on Zalara.”

Hera glared. “You’re fixing to go back down there, aren’t you?”

“It’s the only way,” he answered.

She gave him a deathly stare. “You’re going to be the Lone Ranger again?”

“No,” he hesitated. “I need you to go with me.”

“Me? What the devil for?”

“I forbid it,” Tryker said. “The queen’s far too weak for such a mission.”

“Why do you want to risk your mate’s life?” Taog asked.

“I’m not risking it,” Damon growled. “She has a power within her that will protect us. I’ve seen it.”

Hera’s eyes widened in disbelief. “You’re fixing for us to have sex on the planet or have sex in front of the king and queen?”

“No, of course not.” He put his hands on her stiff shoulders. “You’re powerful, Hera. I don’t think you need sex to release what’s inside you. You need to believe in yourself.”

“Why?” she asked bitterly.

“Because I believe in you,” he said softly. “Will you at least try? I swear I’ll not let any harm come to you.”

She bit her lip, then glanced at all their tight, drawn faces. She sighed heavily, then looked up into his face, as if searching for an answer.

He gently squeezed her shoulders.

“I reckon I can try, but I don’t know how the dickens I can do it again.”

“You’ll find a way. I know you will.” So far, the Fates had been right, so he had to believe this was no different.

“Captain,” Tryker said. “It’s your call.”

“We don’t have any other choice, Doctor. I fear it’s the only way.”

“You could get them all killed.”

“No, I won’t. I don’t think it’s just the queen that will draw Greum. You need a decoy.”

“No, Captain, you can’t be serious,” Damon said. “It’s not just Greum that will be after you. Those things will command all the inhabitants to come after you.”

“I know,” he said. “But according to you, your mate has the power to protect us.”

Hera’s mouth dropped open, and she looked up at Damon. “I don’t know if I can do this.”

He took her trembling hand. “Yes, you can.”

“But if I can’t, you’ll all die.”

“We won’t,” he said. He kissed her wrist. “You’re my mate, and I believe in you.”

“You’re sure as hell not going without me.” Anonghos scowled, standing in front of the lab. “You’ll need back-up, and I won’t take no for an answer, Captain.”

Taog grinned. “Wouldn’t be an expedition without you, Anonghos.”

Hera looked at each of them. “If Damon’s hair-brained scheme doesn’t work, I reckon you better have a back-up plan.”

“It won’t fail,” Damon said. “As long as you believe in yourself.”

“Then you’re all in real trouble,” she mumbled.

Damon wanted to shake her to get her to believe in herself, but it wouldn’t do any good. It had to come from within her. He couldn’t make it happen. When he was in the cabin, he’d glimpsed that something had been preventing her power from being released, and he bet it was intertwined with her memory. Sex released it, but he was gambling that fear would ignite it as well. He hoped he was right. All of their lives depended on his hunch.

“We need to be more than betting on a hope,” Taog said. “I need proof she can do this.”

* * *

Back in Damon’s quarters, Hera paced back and forth, her heart beating a million times a minute. “Why did you tell Taog I could do this? Now, he wants proof, which I don’t blame him, by the way.”

“Will you stop pacing?” Damon asked patiently. He looked calmer than a cucumber, which really pissed her off.

“Why? Are you going to give me step-by-step directions on how to do this?” Her voice was getting a little too high for her comfort.

He grabbed her and kissed her. He dominated her protests with his lips and crushed her toward him. She struggled, pushing on his chest, but then she relaxed into his arms. He tasted of strength and belief–belief in her. Something she’d lacked. Nearly getting evicted didn’t exactly make her feel confident. She’d made too many mistakes to count, but Damon made up for where she lacked.

But what if he was wrong? People could die because of her. She couldn’t live with their deaths resting on her incompetence.

The kiss deepened, and she forgot about everything except for Damon–his muscles, his loyalty, his sexiness. He rubbed his hands up and down her back, setting off chills and desire in every direction. She leaned into him, wanting to feel flesh against flesh, but something unexpected happened.

A slow glow brewed in her chest. It was the same fluttering sensation as last time, spreading through her like melted butter. The power pumped through her. She pushed on his chest and turned her mouth away.

“Stop,” she gasped. “I can feel…it. It’s happening.”

He slowly unwrapped his arms. “I knew you could do it. Do something.”

She gestured with her arms. “Like what?”

“Can you bring on the light?”

“I don’t know. I can try.” She closed her eyes and thought of the light. Warmth rolled over her skin, turning into a glistening sweat. She opened her eyes and concentrated, thinking of nothing but bringing light into the room.

She put out her palms, hoping this would spring forth a brilliance, but she was met with a nasty frustration. Her palms curled into tight fists.

“I told you nothing would happen,” she said angrily.

“Try again.”

“This is pointless.”

“Hera, we’re counting on you.”

His voice was gentle, but she detected a hint of frustration. She’d told him that this was an impossible task.

She met his firm gaze. “Then you’re counting on the wrong chicken.”

“Please.”

It was such a simple plea, but with so much emotion. They’d lost all their women and still fought and died to protect Earth.

She drummed up another attempt, but instead of light, a blanket flew off the bed and slammed into Damon’s face.

“What the hell?” he growled as he yanked it off.

She covered her mouth, trying not to laugh. “Sorry.”

“Did you do that on purpose?”

“No.”

“I was afraid of that.”

She frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Hera, on the planet, there can’t be any mistakes. We’re trying to trap the king, which won’t be easy. He’s the most powerful dragon of all of us–and he’s possessed.”

She shuddered, thinking of the Excalibur’s hull and how badly burned Damon had been upon his return. “What do you want me to do?”

“I think physical contact with me aids your power, but I believe you possessed this before you met me.”

“Maybe, but I can’t remember anything as of three months ago. I’ve told you this.”

He clasped her chin. “That’s before you released the power. You need to concentrate.”

He caressed her flesh with his thumb, sending feathery tingles through her.

“How?”

He dropped his hand. “You need to relax.”

“Easy for you to say. I’m not a warrior, Damon. I’m just a struggling waitress.”

“You’re more than that.” He grabbed a chair, then motioned with his hand. “Here, sit.”

“Why?”

“Trust me.”

He flashed her a grin that melted any doubt in her heart. She hesitantly sat in the chair, unsure what he was going to do. He put his hands on her shoulders, and she jumped.

He laughed. “Relax.”

She glanced up at him. “I’ll try.”

He gently put his hands on her shoulders again and kneaded her stiff muscles, rooting out the painful tension, but then he increased the pressure, molding and sculpting her until she all she could think about was his hands. She hung her head down, allowing him to pinch and dig his fingers into her flesh, undoing the tight knots. She could sit here forever, letting those magnificent hands move along her body, searching out every tension until she was a bowl of jelly.

“Does this feel okay?” he asked.

“It feels wonderful.”

“Good.” He slid his hands down to her arms. “Do you think you can try and do something again?”

“Mmm, I can try.”

“That’s my mate.” He kissed her gently on the cheek, then took her by the hand and pulled her out of the chair. “Concentrate on the blanket on the floor and put it back onto the bed.”

“That’s two things.”

“I know.”

Drawing on the power again, cool air brushed over her skin, raising the hair on her arms. Her heartbeat went from steady to volatile, sweeping blood through her like an angry river. The air crackled around her, her hair stood on edge, her breath turned cold–something was coming, something was about to break loose–

But then nothing. God, what the hell!

She shook her head violently. “Fiddle-dee-dee, I feel like there’s a veil over my eyes keeping me from finding out the truth.”

Frustration boiled over her words.

“Keep trying.”

She stared at the blanket, willing it to move, but it lay stubbornly on the floor, taunting her. She clenched her fists and took deep breaths.

Nothing.

“I can’t.”

“Don’t give up. You have to do this.”

“There could be another way.”

“There isn’t, or Padean or Tryker would have found it.”

His firm voice left her little choice.

She had to do this–not just for them, but for her. She was tired of being a failure. For the next few hours, she worked on making something move. Her brain was a mess, and she was sweating so bad her clothes stuck to her like tar. Every muscle throbbed.

She shoved her hair out of her face. “It’s…not…working.”

He drew her into his strong arms. “I know.”

She laid her head on his chest, listening to his comforting heartbeat. “The only damn thing I’ve managed to do was move the stupid blanket.”

“Six inches,” he whispered.

Tears of frustration fell down her cheeks. “Which means diddly-squat.”

He lifted her into his arms. “Shhh, I’ll hear none of that. I think you need to know how much I appreciate what you did today.”

Damon laid her down on the bed, then slowly stripped off her clothes. The air cooled her hot body, and she watched him as he shed his clothes. His body was magnificent, and she ached to slide her hands over him and kiss him. His faith in her made her want him.

“I think you’re right.”

She stretched out her arms. He smiled and slowly lowered himself onto her and kissed him, indulging in his masculine taste. He kissed and licked every inch of her body until she was wanting with need. His rough beard chafed her sensitive skin. Her rat-a-tat-tat heart sent blood drumming between her thighs. She ran her hands over his body, discovering every muscle and learning what made him gasp and moan, making her smile that she could make him quake with passion just as he did with her.

Their hands and lips slowly discovered ways to please each other. His heart beat as strong as hers. When he entered her, he thrust hard and deep. She locked her legs around his thrusting hips and hung on for the blessed ride. She came hard and fast, screaming out his name and digging her nails into his massive shoulders.

He followed her, coming just as forceful, then collapsed on top of her. His warm breath caressed her hot skin. She pushed her fingers through his wet locks.

“Tomorrow, I swear, I’ll figure out what’s missing.”

He kissed the hollow between her breasts. “Of course you will. You’re my mate.”

She fell asleep in his arms, wishing he’d say he cared about her. Having sex and saying she was his mate wasn’t enough. But then, how could she compete with a queen?