Adrift, weightless in the tranquil warmth surrounding her, Eryn relaxed in the gentle waves soothing her tired, achy body. Gone were the sharp pains in her head and the waves of nausea at the slightest movement. She sighed in contentment. This is what heaven must be like. Free, without worries or cares, and absolutely no discomforts.

“Eryn.”

Her name sounded muffled, as if from far away, and she couldn’t tell who was calling for her.

“Why won’t she wake up?” the husky voice whispered.

Still she had no clue who it belonged to, or even if it was a man or a woman.

It could be Lana or Maggie. Or maybe Ram? But why would he be here, trying to wake her up?

Memories came rushing back of running from those awful men, so many of them, all wanting to do unspeakable things to her because of her baby. She remembered falling, intense pain, Slim’s hands all over her, and Ram arriving in time to save her. If so, why couldn’t she recall anything after that, or how she’d gotten here, or where here was?

As she tried to sort it all out, the pain in her head returned with a sudden jarring jolt. It set up a throbbing tempo, while a bright flickering strobe-like light interspersed with little snippets of memories.

Her brother appeared first, at his high school graduation, his cap angled atop his head, the tassel dangling off the tilted edge as he grinned from ear to ear while holding up his diploma. One of their happy times. In another, she sparred with Lana, both winded but laughing as she offered her friend a hand up from the mat. Maggie appeared next, in her captain’s seat on the Odyssey, issuing orders. This image morphed into a swirl of blues, pinks, and yellows which focused after a moment and became a beautiful landscape, which from the vivid colors could only be Primaria. Ram appeared next, so handsome he took her breath away. He looked unusually pleased, grinning down at her, flashing the sexy dimple in his cheek. He changed in the next image, wearing a look of exasperation, which was more what she was used to, after she’d done something he’d ordered her not to. Her mind conjured one more picture of him. His face a mask of fury, his eyes bright with such anger they glimmered like melted gold.

Was it directed at her? Of course, after what she’d done, it had to be. Then, his look turned determined. The image zoomed out, and she saw herself in his arms, his strength surrounding her as he carried her. But to where? She struggled to recall, but the ache in her head clouded the thoughts. Telling herself not to care, she tried to relax as though Ram’s strong arms really did circle her. After so long, nothing else mattered.

“Eryn!”

The voice came again, fracturing her fantasy, and sending waves of searing pain not only to her head, but coursing throughout her body. She wanted to call out for whoever it was to leave her be and stop disturbing her pleasant visions.

“For goodness sake, honey, please wake up!”

The insistent voice rang clear in her head—female, her tears making her voice sound hoarse. But why was she crying? And what had happened to Ram? Surely, she hadn’t imagined him, or the other men, or that horrible couple. She fought to open her eyes, needing to find him, to see his face and make sure he was all right after the horrifying confrontation in the woods—if it indeed turned out to be real. Her eyelids wouldn’t respond, seeming heavy as if weighted down, and she couldn’t open them no matter how hard she tried to lift them.

She tried to speak but couldn’t. And when she attempted to lift her hands to her lips and eyes, to figure out what was wrong, they didn’t work, either. Nothing did.

For some reason, her body had frozen, thinking, feeling, and listening, the sole abilities in her power. Of those three, her mind whirled in confusion and her body cried out with pain, which left her hearing, yet another sense she didn’t think she could depend on.

She listened for a hint of his presence, the heavy tread of his boots on the floor, a soft rustle of clothing, or the deep in-and-out rush of his breathing, something to indicate he was there. Except for the woman’s soft whispering and machines whirring in the background, an annoying alarm incessantly beeping, and a strange, steady whooshing sound, she couldn’t hear anything else.

A moment later, a low groan and a creaking noise, like someone shifting in a leather chair, joined the mix.

“Is she awake?” Deep and gruff, sounding like he’d just roused from sleep, this time she had no doubt, this was Ram.

“I’m here,” she called to him, but the words stayed locked in her mind.

“No. It was just me talking to her, hoping… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to disturb you,” the woman said.

Maggie.

She longed to see her old friend, but her eyelids wouldn’t cooperate. Nothing would, dammit. As she tried to fit the pieces together, swirling gray clouds began forming, making the images in her head hazy.

“Have there been any changes?” Maggie’s cool fingers brushed her cheek.

“None,” came the deep, rumbling reply.

“And the baby?”

“Stable. Though they can’t be certain. This is all so new to everyone. What time is it?”

“Almost noon.”

Noon! She’d been attacked at dusk. Where had the time gone?

“I need to go,” he announced. More creaking leather and a soft grunt created an image of him unfolding his long frame from the chair and stretching—a sight she would have paid gladly to see for real. “I’m sitting in on a satellite conference with Juna, Ellar, and Jarlan in a few moments. Will you stay with her?”

“Of course, anything you need, Ram.”

His meeting with her doctor and two Primarian physics, machines constant humming, and Maggie’s tears all added up. She was in the hospital and, for some reason— doubtless what caused the agonizing pain in her head—she couldn’t wake up, or at least they didn’t think she could. One bright spot remained in the confusing mess—she hadn’t lost her baby when Slim slammed her to the ground so hard. Still, the conversation didn’t tell her much, like what the fuck was going on.

Her frustration gave way to panic, and the more she tried forcing her brain to communicate with her body—to move, to speak, to open her eyes—the tighter her throat became, and the more she struggled for breath. An alarm, more shrill and extreme than the last one, screamed in her ear.

“What now?” Ram exclaimed, without his usual calm.

“I’m no expert, but her heart rate has spiked, and she seems to be struggling against the machine.”

“Stay with her while I summon help.”

No, Ram, please, don’t go, she cried mutely.

She wanted to tell him how sorry she was for what she’d done, to beg his forgiveness, but the gray clouds had turned dark, becoming a whirling turbulent maelstrom bearing down and enveloping her. It blocked out the alarms, the annoying machines, also the voices, and, along with them, whatever clues they might have given her.

The next moment, the same all-encompassing darkness consumed her, just like when Ram rescued her in the woods. And while it took her away into nothingness, she found a measure of relief. The pain, at last, was gone.

---

Waking again to a floating sensation, this time nothing except a low humming noise filled her ears. It reminded her of the many nights she lay awake on the Odyssey, listening to the ship’s engines. But that couldn’t be right. When they’d come home months ago, their mission had ended.

She opened her eyes, surprised when she could, and blinked. The room looked familiar, the blank empty walls a dead giveaway—she was in Ram’s quarters on the Intrepid. She’d only been there once before, for three days, the ones following her capture. And while this surprised her, the presence of the woman pacing the length of the room in a state of agitation made her question both her vision and sanity, because, as bizarre as it seemed, the woman was her.

She must be dreaming. Why else would she be able to see herself and hear her agitated muttering?

Thinking the reverse might be true, she asked the pacing version of herself a question. “Can you hear me, Eryn?”

Her other self didn’t pause or so much as blink.

How strange. She’d never had a dream and been aware she was dreaming, although she’d heard of this. Lucid dreams. And if she remembered right, sometimes the dreamer could control what happened.

She tried again. “Eryn, it’s, um, well, me. Or us.” Feeling ridiculous, she grumbled, “This is stupid.” When the other Eryn moved within reach, she stretched out a hand to touch her, but felt nothing, her hand passing right through.

Startled, she jumped back. Could it be…?

“No,” she whispered, in horror. She didn’t believe in the supernatural, especially ghosts. Yet, if the blow to her head had been so severe she’d died, it would explain a lot. But what about her baby? Out of her mind with unanswered questions, she pinched herself, hard. She felt it, so it must be real, except when she looked at her fingers and wiggled them, they seemed distorted, cartoonish.

The tension seeped away. It must be a dream. Thank heaven!

Still, why had her brain chose this place and this time? And, what was the point of being aware of her dream if she couldn’t do anything about it? It occurred to her, lucidity in a dream might not be a physical thing, but an awareness of the mind. With intense concentration, she tried to will pacing-Eryn to stop, go to the door, and get out of there. As a captive, at the time, escape had been her only goal.

It didn’t work. Everything she attempted failed.

Confounded, she slumped against the wall while blowing out a long, exasperated sigh. Then, resigned to the role of observer in this altered state of consciousness, she let the scene play out, hoping she would learn her purpose for being there.

---

Pacing accomplished nothing, but she couldn’t sit still. She supposed it burned up some of her nervous energy and her fury. She wanted to punch something or someone, and she knew who her first target would be, a seven-foot-tall, muscle-bound, black-haired, golden-eyed barbarian. After carrying her over his shoulder like a Neanderthal, and swatting her ass a few times for good measure, he’d left her here without explanation. And, of course, he’d locked her in. She’d tried the door the instant he’d left, and numerous other times in the past hour—one hundred a conservative estimate—and it wouldn’t budge.

Now, as her path took her past the door once again, her focus centered on the censor high on the wall and its blinking red light. Somehow, they had to escape. Without another ship to use for a getaway, they’d have to take control of this one; it was the only way. But they were vastly outnumbered, not to mention locked in, and she had no idea where the rest of her crew was being held. Alone, her odds of success were next to impossible. She would have to be patient—not one of her most stellar traits—and smart, watching and waiting, and when she located the others, enlist their support with her plan. By then, she should have come up with one.

Her foremost task, figuring out the door lock. To do so, she needed tools. If she found a weapon while she searched, all the better.

She started in the main room, which took a matter of minutes, because it was empty. With her hands on her hips, she surveyed the Spartan stateroom. It had minimal furnishings, no cabinets or drawers, and not one trace of décor—no pictures on the walls or a single knickknack on the lone table. A couch, a table, and a computer console with vid-screen, both recessed mounted into the wall. That’s it. She considered the last two items, even if she had tools to remove them, she still lacked the strength, not to mention the height or the balls, to bash him over the head with either one.

As she imagined greeting her barbarian with such a lovely little surprise, she spotted a dark alcove across the room which she hadn’t noticed before. The lights came on when she approached to reveal a small room, no bigger than a closet, with a counter, food prep unit, and a cooler. She opened the lone cabinet and stared in disappointment at the empty shelves. Didn’t the man eat? He didn’t have a scrap of food, not even a ready-to-eat pouch of space rations, no dishes, or glasses, and no utensils.

On the Odyssey, she ate in the crew dining room most often, but she still kept something in her room. Snacks, coffee, drinks, and spoons, forks, and a freakin’ knife which could double as a screwdriver when she needed it.

Why did he have a kitchen at all?

With mounting irritation, she headed for the bedroom. To search, not to sleep as he’d ordered. She snorted. What a colossal ego; to think he had the power to command her to sleep.

Combing through the closet, drawers, and behind what little furniture he had took minutes. When she finished there, she rummaged through the small bathroom, peeking inside the recessed mirrored cabinet and the miniscule shower stall. The latter she eyed with curiosity, wondering how he folded his massive frame into it to bathe. Tempted to shower after a day and night spent in the hot, humid forest, she didn’t dare risk being naked and more vulnerable upon his return.

With nowhere else to search, she retraced her steps to the living area and flopped onto the couch. She sat there for a moment, contemplating the enormity of her situation, of how her life and the future she had always planned for herself had changed in a flash.

She got up to pace again, striding back and forth with greater agitation. When her toe brushed a pillow that had fallen off the couch, she kicked it out of pure frustration. Rather than flying across the room to vent her fury, it went straight up in the air and landed at her feet with barely a sound. This ticked her off.

Snatching it up, she took her anger out on the defenseless pillow, punching it, and tearing at the seams with her nails. She imagined it was the black-haired, golden-eyed, dimple-cheeked alien’s head. Inspired to violence, she ripped into it until the material rent with a satisfying sound and an explosion of stuffing flew out. While she stood in a shower of white batting, the doors swished open and the object of her wrath walked in.

He halted mid-stride and stared at her amidst the ruins of the decimated pillow. While she gazed back at him, a piece of the fluffy stuff landed on her nose. She blew it away and, as she did, thought she’d swear his lips twitched. But couldn’t be sure. The movement had been fleeting before one black brow arched and his eyes swept the floor and the mess she had made.

Tall and imposing, with shoulders so incredibly wide the room seemed to shrink to half its size with his presence, he said nothing, instead, crossing to the couch and placing the tray he held on the table. Still dressed in the microscopic loincloth, his big, practically bare body moving with masculine grace, she couldn’t keep from noticing. Or gawking at the way his muscles bunched and rippled in a hypnotic dance he appeared unaware of.

Eryn tried to tamp down the rush of warmth that flooded through her every time she saw him. The sensation diametrically opposed to what her brain told her she should feel for a kidnapper: anger, loathing, and distrust, not to mention fear, and, considering his size, strength, and outweighing her by at least one hundred pounds, physical intimidation.

“You did not sleep.” He removed the lids from the food, and a delectable aroma filled the air.

“No. I rarely do, and I’m not a child to be told when to do it.”

“Mm…” His gaze took in the ripped pillow in her hands and the debris littering the floor. “So you claim, but your fit of temper just now and defiance of sleep when I know you did not rest for a moment last night leads me to think otherwise.”

“You watched me?”

“I had guard duty, and when I did not, the others who did filled me in.” He held his arm out to her. “Come eat. You must be exhausted. Perhaps good food, a full belly, and a glass of vilo will help you relax and allow you to get some rest.”

While her mouth watered from the delicious aroma, hunger gnawing at her empty insides, she resisted, and, much like the child she insisted she wasn’t, stated sullenly, “Unless it’s followed by our release and the return of our ship, don’t bet on it.”

He shrugged, as if it made no difference to him, took a seat, and began filling a plate. “This is roasted boar from our hunt on Ventorcopia. I thought after a long voyage, meat would be something you missed.”

“I’m a vegetarian,” she lied out of pure spite.

But he was right. After three years of manufactured food and space rations, she dreamed of a cheeseburger and fries, or a medium-rare steak. Pork, never her first choice, the spicy aroma tempted her empty stomach, which growled loudly at that precise moment.

Tawny eyes twinkling with amusement connected with hers, and she caught a glimpse of his dimple. But he didn’t laugh, instead, saying in a coaxing manner, “A truce, little rebel. Sit and eat. Afterward, when you are full, you can get back to your fighting stance.”

Certain she shouldn’t dine with the enemy, she focused on something else. “What’s Ventor—, uh… whatever you said?”

He hummed as he forked up a generous bite of meat, chewed then swallowed. “It is the name of our hunting planet, the one where we found you and the other females. This boar is excellent, and there are vegetables here. Are you sure I can’t tempt you with a taste?”

She stubbornly ignored his compelling offer. “That was your planet?”

“One of two we claim, which means you are guilty of trespassing.”

She stiffened in alarm. Is this why they’d been taken, to punish them for their crime?

When he glanced up this time, his gaze moved deliberately over her. Starting at her head, he did a thorough scan of every feature, moving over her hair and her face before continuing with an intimate glide from her chin to her toes. Although across the room, he catalogued each curve so thoroughly it felt like he did so with his touch, not his eyes.

Eryn resisted the urge to squirm beneath his overt perusal, more so when he paused at her breasts and hips. He reached her feet, still in her regulation black boots, and she thought she saw his lips twitch slightly, but he retraced his path up her snug-fitting flight suit, appearing not to miss the tiniest detail, until he again regarded her face.

“We won’t hold your wrongdoing against you,” he continued as if he’d never stopped talking and hadn’t spent the last several minutes undressing her with his eyes, “since you bring so many other assets to the table.”

Offended, she bristled and crossed her arms over her chest. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“I’ll explain while we eat. Sit, before it gets cold.”

A second away from stomping her foot at the infuriating obstinacy of the man, she contained it. “I’m not hungry,” she snapped, letting her annoyance show. “The one thing I want is for you to set me free! What you do afterwards, I don’t give a fuck.”

The easy manner he’d assumed faded, and his face tensed, his lips dipping into a frown. “Your aggression and anger is understandable, mate—”

“I am not your mate!” she insisted, her voice rising.

“You soon will be, which is something else I’ll explain after you’ve filled your empty belly. You only hurt yourself by denying your hunger. And your outbursts will accomplish nothing except to earn a well-deserved trip over my knee. I have been lenient until now—”

“Lenient! You have some nerve, buster! You kidnapped us and are holding us against our will. Am I supposed to roll over blindly and accept subjugation without a fight?”

“I would not expect blind surrender. However, an intelligent being would know when they are defeated and submit gracefully.”

“Is that so? Tell me, great warrior, what would you do if our positions were reversed?”

He inclined his head, considering her for a moment then took another bite and chewed slowly. After, he reached for a glass of pinkish liquid to wash it down, in no hurry.

“There are several things wrong with your scenario, galita. First, if I was the captive, I wouldn’t remain so for long. Second, I am a male, bigger, stronger, exceptionally well trained, one-on-one as we are now, never would our positions be reversed. And third, on an unknown planet, we wouldn’t have allowed ourselves to be so vulnerable to be caught to begin with.”

Her mouth gaped open. “You’re saying we were captured because we are stupid, weak, incompetent women? Your arrogance is immeasurable.”

“I didn’t put it quite the same way, and I didn’t call you stupid.”

She sucked in a breath of outrage, seeing his lips twitch again.

“It is an inarguable fact females are subservient to men because they are smaller and weaker. Males are in charge because we are physically superior and can defend and protect our females. It is the way in my world, and in most worlds I have visited. How you traveled this far without protectors and weren’t taken, is astonishing.”

“You’re wrong and disturbingly outdated. Where I am from, women are equals and defend themselves. Furthermore, I’m the security chief for my ship; therefore, I’m the protector.”

Her comment prompted a wide-eyed look of surprise followed by amusement.

“You think that’s funny?”

Smarter than she gave him credit for, he didn’t take the bait.

“One, for so many?” he countered, instead.

“I lead a team of thirty.”

“All females. It is no wonder we caught you so easily.” He grinned, his gleaming white teeth flashing brilliant in his tanned face.

He was blatantly condescending, and she suspected only half-teasing. She wanted to smack the grin from his face, but his smile—the first time she’d seen it—transformed him from handsome to heart-stoppingly gorgeous. How could she stay focused when faced with such underhanded tactics?

“You’ll have no further need to protect your crewmates, little rebel. In fact, your role up to now has no bearing. You are mated to a Primarian, and we take safety and protection of our females serious.” He popped another piece of meat in his mouth and wiped his hands on a cloth napkin. “I’m going to bathe. Afterward, since you insist you aren’t hungry, we will see about the breaching so our mate bond and your transformation can begin.”

Stunned by his arrogance, she gaped at him, unblinking as he stood and came toward her, not reacting when he caught her hand and pulled her through the bedroom doorway in his wake. He led her to the bed and began removing his loincloth.

“I won’t be long. Remove your clothing, get into bed, and be ready for me, unless you would like to join me in a shower first.”

While his words sank in, Eryn blinked, and the daze she’d been caught in evaporated. It also could have been that he was within arm’s reach, stark naked, with yards of smooth skin and rippling muscles, not to mention his cock, which was large, erect, and pointing eagerly in her direction. Whichever the cause, her brain jolted back online.

“You’re nuts!” she screeched. “Or this is a horrible fucking nightmare I can’t wake from.”

Looming over her in an instant, he caught her chin in his hand and tipped her face up. “I assure you, neither is true. This is very real, mate. And your sharp tongue and foul language are only adding to your heaping pile of egregious offenses. I suggest you lie down and collect yourself. I’m trying to be patient and prefer we start out our mating with pleasure, though I have no problem accommodating a spanking beforehand if your misbehavior persists.” With his ominous warning delivered, he started for the bathroom, but paused, peering down at her again.

This close, too close for her comfort, he smelled wonderful despite his intention to bathe. She took a step back to give them space, but he caught her around the waist, bringing her even closer.

“What are you called, little rebel?”

She considered lying, or sticking to name, rank, and serial number, but rejected both thinking they might push him too far. What harm could there be in him knowing?

“Eryn.”

His eyes traveled over her face, coming to rest on her hair. “A beautiful name. It suits you.”

She controlled her instinct to pull away from his hand when it rose and lifted a curl from her shoulder, rubbing it between his fingers.

“The color matches the fire in your blood.” He dipped his head and ran his nose up the side of her neck. “I’ll be back soon, Eryn, and will enjoy fanning those flames.”

He released her and disappeared into the bathroom, the door swishing closed behind him.

She stared at it for several long moments. And while she tried to process all he said and the hum of desire stirring low in her belly, her shock turned once more to anger.

“Fan the flames, like hell,” she grumbled, glaring at the bed as though the inanimate object had a hand in all of this. “I’ll lie down and spread for you when pigs fly, you arrogant, alien bastard.”

She scanned the room for anything to use in her defense. His boots. She grabbed one, pleased to find it as sturdy and heavy as it looked. Then, she stalked out of the room, heading straight to the main door.

Considering his intention for a spanking and a breaching, patience and rational planning went out the window. Desperate measures were called for. She had to get out of there, save the others, and get back to the Odyssey before it was halfway across the galaxy.

Using the hard heel of his boot like a hammer, she slammed it into the automatic sensor above the door. Set high in the wall in accommodation of their size, without her height, she wouldn’t have been able to reach the panel. She still had to stretch, standing on her toes to do so.

The first blow cracked the outer cover, and she pounded repeatedly, until she could pick through the broken plastic to the wires beneath. Not knowing which wire went to what, she yanked them all out and twisted them together until they sparked, and, with a puff of smoke, the indicator light blinked out.

“Bingo,” she whispered.

Eryn dropped the boot and, with both hands flat on the heavy panels, slid them sideways. She had to strain with all her might to get them to budge, but she just needed a few inches. Once parted that much, she began to squeeze between the panels.

Halfway through, hard fingers winding around her upper arm stopped her. Effortlessly, he curled his free hand around the edge of the panel, shoving them wide apart then pulled her back inside. Her escape thwarted, she howled with vexation when the doors snapped shut again as though spring-loaded.

“So help me, woman, I’ve known you less than a day and you are more defiant and troublesome than anyone, male or female, I’ve ever met.” Eyeing the broken sensor, he shook his head. “Your bottom will pay for this little rebellion, after we do what I explained we would be doing next.”

“I’m not breaching with you, so you can forget it,” she shouted at his fresh-from-the-shower naked back as he dragged her once again to the bedroom.

“That is fine,” he snapped over his shoulder. “Since I am the one who will be breaching you, all I require is for you to lie back, with your mouth shut, and legs open.”

His crude description had her heart pounding with fear. She yanked on her hand, but his hold held firm. Panic made her foolhardy.

“Chauvinist pig,” she hissed.

“Stubborn brat,” he countered.

“Let me go!”

“Never.”

Digging in her heels, she resisted, but it did nothing except annoy him further.

Unexpectedly, he stopped, bent at the waist, and tipped her over his shoulder, yet again. His long strides took him to the bed where he tossed her with a single bounce, coming down on top of her, his body pinning hers with its considerable weight.

“Leave it to me,” he growled between gritted teeth as he caught her fisted hands where they pushed against his chest, “to be mated to a woman who is beautiful, has the softest curves, and smells more wonderful than a field of wildflowers, and yet is the most defiant, maddening, intractable woman I’ve encountered in all my days.”

Despite this mixed bag of compliments and insults, Eryn didn’t stop struggling to consider either. Besides, he was at least half right about her being known for her determination, never giving up when assigned a task, and for pure stubbornness. It made her a good security chief. It also carried over into her day-to-day interactions with everyone—including an alien who seemed determined to mate her and paddle her ass.

In an effortless move, he flipped her onto her belly and raised both hands over her head, pinning them to the bed. She kicked and squirmed, but he had no trouble containing her with his chest covering her back and a heavy leg coming over both thighs. Once he had her immobilized, he transferred her hands to one of his own.

Knowing what came next, she cried out. “No!”

His hand came down in a series of hard smacks to her bottom. She counted at least a dozen.

Once the sting had caught fire, she found herself on her back again, staring up into his golden gaze. Out of breath, with each pant for air her breasts rubbed against his smooth chest.

She knew how she must look, green eyes burning up at him with fiery indignation, cheeks flushed from her struggles, and, during their brief wrestling match, she’d felt the zipper of her flight suit come open wide at her neck. She suspected he had a nice view of the tops of her breasts, pushed up high from the press of his hard chest against hers. His gaze dropped to her generous cleavage and the interested glint reflected in his eyes told her he liked what he saw, and that she was in big trouble.

“Please, let me go,” she whispered in a heartfelt plea.

His eyes met hers, his expression softer. “I cannot, galita. You’ve been matched to me. Do you know how long I’ve waited for you?”

“I don’t know what that means.”

“While you slept in med-bay—”

“While I lay knocked unconscious against my will, you mean.”

He frowned at her. “You make it sound so much worse than it is. After the physic inserted the translator device, he drew blood for the testing.”

“I noticed a needle hole in my arm, but I’ve had a few other things on my mind.”

“Like escape.”

Her eyes rolled up in exasperation. She was a captive; did he expect her not to try?

“You have a bad habit of doing that with your lovely green eyes. The gesture is disrespectful and will be added to the mounting list of what we need to work on to make you the perfect mate.”

“You’re insufferable.” She bucked beneath him, trying to throw him off. At least twice her weight, he didn’t budge. “Get off me.”

“I’m rather comfortable up here,” he replied with a grin. “And the view is spectacular.”

She ignored him and got back to the matter at hand. “Does that mean you’re not letting me up?”

“That’s correct.”

Her enraged glare should have made him burst into flames, but it only seemed to amuse him more. And when she blew out an aggravated breath, sending a loose curl sliding across her cheek, his grin widened, making the dimple appear in his cheek.

“I’m glad you find me so entertaining,” she snapped. Not going anywhere, she tried for delays, distraction, anything to give her time to convince him this couldn’t happen. “You were saying something about a match?”

“Yes, our compatibility is rated very high, and, since I caught you, the Princep approved for me to have you as my mate, rather than you having to go into the general pool.”

“The Prin-what? And what kind of pool?”

“Princep, it is what we call our leader. As for the pool, all Primarian adults in search of a mate are entered into a data bank to find their biocellular match.”

“How romantic.” Her snarky comment earned her a frown, but she continued regardless. “Here’s the thing; your Princep has no authority over me,” she declared. “And I don’t give a flying flip about data banks or matches. I demand to be released.”

“You trespassed and were captured, which made you Primarian by right. Therefore, he does indeed have authority over you, as do I, your mate.”

“I didn’t agree to any of this, and I don’t accept your rules of capture.”

“I’m sorry, galita, but your lack of agreement also has no bearing.” He lowered his head, sliding his nose alongside hers in a soft caress. His lips traversed the plane of her cheek and nuzzled into the thick mass of her hair, his warm breath raising goose bumps along her skin.

“What is it you keep calling me?”

“The galita is a native flower on Primaria with petals the same beautiful red as your hair,” he murmured. “And such a vibrant shade. The color pleases me. In all my travels, I’ve never seen its like. My people have dark hair and eyes. Your creamy, fair skin and exotic features are going to cause quite a stir.”

“Does my unwillingness to join with you have no bearing, either?”

Her cool words must have broken through because his head came up. “We will overcome this obstacle. I vow you won’t be unwilling for long.” He lowered his mouth for a kiss, but she angled her face away.

“No,” she gritted out between her teeth. “I don’t want to be your mate, or anyone else’s. I only want to return to my ship and complete my mission.”

Undeterred, his lips trailed along her cheek to her ear, where he caught the lobe lightly between his teeth.

“Your racing heart and labored breathing tell me you are not immune to my touch. Once the breaching is completed, you will crave me more. It is the way with mates.”

“I’ll have none of it, breeching, mating, or you. I demand to be released. My people are in dire need and depending upon us. Can’t you understand that?”

He propped up on his elbows, more serious. “We are also in need. Our race is dying out. Yours is the first compatible species we’ve found after searching for years. You and the others are our salvation, Eryn. I will treat you well, care for and protect you and the children we conceive. You will have a good life with me on Primaria.”

“You aren’t listening to me! I don’t want this.” The volume of her protest at this close range had to make his ears ring.

“I am listening.” He shook his head, likely to dispel the echo. “How could I not? This is already determined. Resign yourself to your new life as my mate.”

Warm and demanding, his lips aligned with hers. Although she resisted, he found entrance and his taste exploded in her mouth—honey-sweet with a hint of spice. Her body, hungry for years without a man, responded with urgent need and, though she willed it not to, bowed up against him.

He deepened the kiss, his tongue exploring. Quiescent at first, mostly from the shock of his arousing kisses, when he stroked his hand up her side, stopping at her upthrust breast and arced a thumb over the beaded tip, the ache became unbearable. She lifted her chest, pressing herself into his palm, relishing his touch after being without for so long.

He groaned, settling over her more fully, as the rigid length of his cock slipped between her thighs. When it did so, she stiffened, a whimpering sound rising from her throat. This was wrong. She had to make him stop somehow.

“If you do this, I will hate you for it.”

He raised his head, gazing down at her with a troubled expression. “Why do you insist on denying what your body so badly wants?” he growled. “We are mates. It is natural for you to desire me.”

“My body doesn’t control me, my brain does. I’m telling you as plainly as I know how; I don’t want this. In your world, does a woman have no say?”

“Of course, she does,” he bit back, the tic in his jaw telling her he was struggling for patience. “You don’t understand, it is different with Primarian mates. There is a bond, a hunger.”

“You’re right. I don’t understand, but it doesn’t matter, because I don’t want this.”

He lowered his head to her shoulder, his body tense above her. He didn’t move for what seemed like forever while she waited, holding her breath. The entire time hoping he had enough decency ingrained somewhere within him that he wouldn’t force her to do something so intimate when she was unwilling.

“Fine,” he said gruffly, freeing her hands and rolling to his back. Then he covered his eyes with his brawny forearm, lying quiet and motionless, except for the steady rise and fall of his chest.

She inched away, shifting onto a hip while watching him. “What are you doing?” she asked when he didn’t move after several long silent moments.

“Calming my body, using the control you imply I don’t have.”

“You mean you’re not going to—?”

“No, the breaching can wait.”

The abrupt change surprised her, so did his sudden movement as he turned onto his side, came up on an elbow, and leaned over her.

“Although you might not think so, I do understand how difficult this is for you. We struggled with the decision ourselves. In the past few years, while our search continued, our situation grew desperate. We agreed to do anything necessary. However, I draw the line at a forced mating.”

“Thank God,” she murmured.

His hand came up to her cheek, frowning when she stiffened and drew back. “Don’t give thanks too soon. It doesn’t mean I’m not going to try to win you over. I am not above seduction, and I am told I can be charming.”

“Hmph,” she snorted. “Don’t think you’ll be charming the pants off me, warrior.”

His lips kicked up in a grin as his gaze slid down her body to her legs. “Not to worry, on Primaria, our women wear dresses.”

She rolled her eyes again, this time making him smile. “It’s an expression.”

“Ah…” He grinned. “We dress our mates the way we do for a reason. Easy access.”

She aimed a scowl his way when his amusement continued, settling into a deep, velvety, libido-stirring chuckle.

“Let’s try to get some sleep. Neither of us got much last night.”

“You’re sleeping here?” she squawked, pulling up the covers.

“It is my bed.”

She nodded while scooting toward the edge. “I’ll go to the couch in the other room.”

His arm snaked out and wrapped around her waist, hauling her back. He didn’t stop until they lay chest to chest, his striking face an inch above her own.

“I’ve given in and delayed the breaching, galita, even though my body screams to take you, to spread your thighs and drive into you, filling you with my life essence which will make you mine forever. But my brain also operates independently of my body, specifically, my cock. I have told it to stand down because our mate bonding should start out with you eager and willing, not resentful and afraid. I won’t give in on this, however.” He paused, his compelling gaze holding her riveted, his magnetism so potent she couldn’t have looked away if she tried, and his determination to have what he wanted—her for his mate—so resolute it caused her heart to flutter in her chest.

As if he felt it, his face softened ever so slightly. “You will be my mate in the end, little rebel, so you better start getting used to the idea. And you’ll do so while lying in my arms every night.”

Although his declaration made her want to breathe fire, the passion with which he spoke sent rivers of urgency coursing through her.

Let go, a voice in the back of her mind whispered. You’ve won the battle, if not the war. And you’re safe from a breaching tonight. It helped convince her to stand down for now.

“If this were a negotiation between warring parties, you could claim victory, little one.” His long finger came up and smoothed over her furrowed brow. “Take pride in that, although know it won’t always be this way with me.”

“My aching behind is convinced already.”

He grinned, his masculine beauty captivating her. She broke free of the spell when his hand slid to her chest and began to ease down her zipper. Her own shot up and wrapped around his wrist; it didn’t stop him.

“What are you doing?”

“Undressing you.”

“I thought you said…”

“I did. I am a warrior and always keep my word, but you can’t sleep in your clothes. Besides, I plan for you to become accustomed to me, hearing my voice, feeling my touch, and my kisses.” His demonstrated this by gliding his lips over her cheek. “Sleeping next to you this way will be nothing short of torture, but the skin-to-skin contact will speed things along.” He pulled the tight suit over her shoulders. “I won’t do more than hold you tonight. In the morning, I’ll find you something more appropriate to wear.”

She swallowed as he continued to tug the material down. When it hung up in back, he leaned over her, and his chest brushed against her already-hard nipples. “Why must I lose my clothes if we’re not going to, um…?”

“I explained the benefits of skin on skin. Weren’t you listening?”

“I’m finding I’m, uh, a little distracted.”

“And I’m finding this suit entirely too difficult to get off. Roll over.”

Without waiting, he flipped her onto her stomach. His chest pinned her upper half as his long arms pulled the remaining fabric down to her ankles. Bold and brash most of the time, becoming the opposite during intimacy annoyed her. Trusting his word—because what other choice did she have?—Eryn buried her heated face in her pillow. Knowing he once again saw her curvy behind bare as the day she was born brought the fire in her cheeks to the level of a super nova.

“There is another reason we sleep naked. The bed will adjust to our body temperatures,” he explained. “You have to be bare skinned for the sensors to work properly.”

“I’m comfortable enough, so I’ll take my clothes back, thank you.”

He chuckled at her muffled response. “You’ll get used to sleeping next to me in all your lovely, creamy white, unclothed skin. Kick off your boots,” he ordered softly.

Shifting to do so, she saw his eyes cut an unhurried path down her spine, over the swells of her bottom, and beyond.

Mildly affronted, she cleared her throat. He simply grinned. “You can’t fault me for looking when faced with such temptation.”

She grunted. Then, while tugging the covers up to her chin, she shoved her boots over the side, letting them fall with a thunk onto the floor. Reclining stiffly onto her pillow, she faced away from him, teetering on the edge of the bed.

“Night light on,” he murmured. The room dimmed leaving only a few foot lights as he settled in behind her, his arm curving around her. With his face resting against her hair, she contemplated his confident, larger-than-life personality. It held a certain appeal, and he could pour on the charm, as he’d claimed. Under other circumstances, she would have given in to this handsome, sexy, dominant man, something, if what he said was true, her fellow captives had done already, falling under the spell of Primarian seduction. Yet when she didn’t and made her objections clear, he had been patient.

She tried to stifle a yawn, and the prolonged, stuttering indrawn breath that went with it. He was right about one thing, she needed sleep, especially if she planned to stay sharp and battle wits with this man.

Just as her eyes began to shut, they flew wide when his arm pulled her closer, and he molded against her, his chest to her back, hips to rounded cheeks, and he bent his long legs to better conform to hers. She tensed, her spine rigid.

“Relax, little rebel. I’m just going to hold you. I’ll enjoy having your softness and curves in my arms, and your delightful heart-shaped bottom snuggled up to me while I sleep.”

“I doubt if I will.”

“Try.” He dropped a light kiss on her shoulder. “After hunting for days, the excitement over finding compatible mates, and all this day has wrought, I am exhausted.”

She snorted, his day had been nothing compared to hers. His arms flexed in reaction, but he let it pass. He’d given her a lot of leeway considering she’d tested him today. But he had motive while trying to win her over. His true nature as a dominant, alpha male badass would come to the surface in the end, she had no doubt.

Before it happened, she needed a plan—an out, for good—or those same traits she found annoying might overpower her and seduce her to his will. Given time, she felt sure she would melt under the force of his influence, so she’d have to act fast.

When the heaviness of sleep claimed him, his breath in her ear slowed, and his muscles eased, yet the strong arm wrapped around her middle didn’t give an inch. Strangely, she took comfort in his strength, the security of his big body, and his protectiveness. The last, something she hadn’t had since she was twelve. Knowing he slept, she relaxed into him, taking advantage of what he offered, if only for tonight. As she began to drift off, she wondered if the others, chosen specifically for deep space because they had no one and wouldn’t be missed, felt this, too.

---

From above, Eryn watched the couple entwined in the bed, feeling drained from the emotional scene. The events occurred like she remembered, except instead of lying clasped in Ram’s embrace, when he’d rolled off her, they had laid stiffly alongside one another, with her curled in a tight ball on the edge.

Why had it changed? Was it wishful thinking, or had dream-Eryn taken her whispered words of advice? She hadn’t spoken aloud, when she urged her to “let go” but had heard the words the same way she’d heard all of Eryn’s other thoughts.

Could it be possible she changed the dream? And if so, had she altered the past?

She pondered the meaning of the odd experience, cursing the unfairness of it all. If she hadn’t joined the landing party, or, if she’d met Ram later, perhaps after the treaty had been signed, they might be happy now, like Maggie and Roth, Kerr and Eva, and so many others. But things never seemed to take an easy path for her.

Saddened over the ill-fated course her life kept taking, she felt tired, zapped of energy. Eyes heavy with fatigue, the couple in the bed faded into her past as she drifted back into the untroubled darkness.