Zyriq would not leave Baila’s side no matter the reason. They were so near to binding and he refused to let anything stand between them now. Besides, there was something soothing and peaceful in the way she slept, a serene soul. It warmed him from inside out and he could not get enough of her beauty—his soon to be bonded. In the event she woke or stirred… Zyriq was driven to be at her side. He must be the first thing Baila saw upon waking.

She had slumbered for some time now, though, and he was anxious to hear her voice, see her glittering eyes once more. Adhoe had grudgingly explained that Baila was fine and sleep was good for her. Her body needed to rest—carrying a Morean young one was difficult for their own kind. No one knew how a human would be affected.

Guilt churned in his stomach, unease slinking into him in gradual increments. Remorse plagued him whenever he thought about his yabi’s struggle due to bearing his young. He had not intended to create young with the delicate Baila, but now that they had… A sense of rightness draped over his shoulders and sank its claws into him.

He had not purposely sought out a female or anticipated young, but he thanked the stars for their gifts. Now he would ensure Baila had the easiest life possible. She had been without him for the last two months, leaving her exhausted and underfed—his child sapping her strength. She would suffer no further. The peace she experienced in slumber would imbue her waking hours as well.

He had already begun his care of her, issuing orders to the medical staff and those responsible for meal preparation. Healers would be on call every moment until they arrived on Morea. Every known delicacy would be prepared and waiting for Baila to help identify her cravings. She would merely have to whisper a few words and her every want would be sated. She deserved no less.

Zyriq rose from his seat beside the bed, a war battling in his mind. He had responsibilities and yet… he did not wish to leave Baila. Though he would not go far—not even leaving his quarters. Chall had redeemed himself by returning to Warking’s Blade with Baila’s belongings. At least she would have familiar objects in her alien surroundings.

He reached for one of the cases Chall dropped off and carefully flipped it open. True paper books, a brush of some type, and face paints. No, humans called the powders and liquids “makeup.” She did not need such things. They took away from her beauty, not added to it. But he would not throw away her belongings. He would merely do his best to convince her she did not need them.

Zyriq padded to a nearby wall, tapping a few buttons embedded in the panel, and a series of drawers slid open. Drawers he had determined would belong to her. She would have her own space within his quarters, adequate space so she knew the area was theirs and not only his. He tucked Baila’s belongings away, careful to keep them neat and organized.

Zyriq was determined to make her feel welcome in her new surroundings. Welcome and loved.

He glanced over to her once more, gaze stroking her slumbering body as she remained lost in the land of human dreams. It would not be much longer before they returned to Morea. He would cradle her close and stride down the corridors, returning to his home planet with pride due to his glorious mate. They would take their first steps onto Morea and then on to the rest of their bonded lives. He only hoped Baila felt the same. They had yet to have a full conversation and he prayed she would soon realize her place was with him. Forever.

Zyriq tucked her panties and lingerie into another drawer, pausing only long enough to finger the delicate silk and lace. He would purchase similar clothing in every color once they reached Morea. He could imagine her in nothing but the tiny scraps of fabric—her rounded stomach on display for him.

Baila stirred behind him, a rustle of the sheets and a deep inhale as she woke. He turned and froze in place, watching the ripple of her body as she stretched her arms above her head. Her back arched and she twisted, forcing the shirt she wore to rise. Her belly was quickly exposed and then the fabric drifted further, nearly revealing the underside of her breasts. His mouth watered, memories of tasting her skin, raining kisses on those plump breasts before capturing a single nipple between his lips…

Her eyelids fluttered, signaling her rising consciousness, and he returned to her side, lowering to the seat near the bed. He placed his elbows on his knees once more, leaning forward as he watched her wake. She released a soft sigh and then a low hum followed by a moan, sweet sounds that made him smile.

She wiggled once more and then finally opened her eyes. Her attention went to the ceiling and a high-pitched squeak escaped her lips followed by a low curse. “What the fuck?”

Fear tinged those three words and Zyriq’s heartbeat rose with that jolt of terror—muscles tense and body prepared to defend his bonded. Whatever caused her fear would die. Slowly. “Baila? What is wrong? Has someone—”

Her gaze swung to him, her eyes scanning his face for a brief moment before her body relaxed. “I’m fine.” She shook her head. “Sorry, I just forgot where I was for a minute.”

He narrowed his eyes, unsure if she spoke the truth. “Are you sure? I feel I should comm the sick bay.”

Another shake of her head, this one firmer than the last. “I swear, I’m good. I just forgot you brought me to the ship.” A frown caused her brow to furrow and lips to purse. “Which reminds me.” She sighed. “I should go back to my quarters.” She nudged the thin sheets off her legs and swung them over the edge of the mattress before pushing herself upright until they were eye to eye. “Has my door been fixed? I don’t want to have to face the station master while he demands money.”

He was not prepared to address questions regarding her quarters. “I do not believe it is best for you to rise. Should you be doing that?”

“Doing what? Getting up?” She laughed and stretched with a yawn.

“Do you feel well enough? You recently…” Lost consciousness for the second time since being reunited with him.

Baila rolled her eyes and snorted. As if he was wrong to worry. A male always worried over his bonded. “I’m perfectly fine. I’ll be even better once I get back to my place.”

“Baila…” Zyriq was not sure what else to say simply because the truth might upset her. He had seen enough of her tears.

“What?” A soft smile teased her lips and he found himself matching the sweet expression.

“Your place is here. With me.”

A giggle escaped her lips and the sound lightened his heart. He recalled the fun they had experienced in bed together. Not only the passion but the joy and playfulness as well. “What are you talking about?”

“You do not need to worry about your door. You deserve far better than a small dank space on an aging space station.”

“It’s not so bad.” Baila shrugged, but he saw through her lie.

“You do not need to return there any time soon. Or ever.”

“Zyriq, please. Just because we’re having this baby doesn’t mean we need to jump from intimate acquaintances to a serious relationship overnight.”

He furrowed his brow, rolling her words through his mind. “I do not understand.”

She closed her eyes for a moment and huffed before staring at him once more. “It’s archaic to force a relationship between us just because I’m pregnant.”

Zyriq stiffened, spine snapping straight. “There is nothing archaic about our relationship or the fact that you are bearing my young.”

He did not know what the word “archaic” meant, but he did not believe it was good or indicated a positive outcome to his plans.

“A male claims the mother of his first son.” It was a tradition as old as time—an irrefutable truth that could not be changed.

“See,” Baila pointed at him, finger falling just short of stabbing him in the chest. “That’s what I’m talking about. Humans don’t get married just because a woman gets knocked up anymore. There is such a thing as single mothers and visitation agreements.”

“You belong with me.” He would not relent on this point. His soul cried out at the thought of being without Baila for the remainder of his life.

Baila took a deep breath and held it a moment before releasing it slowly. She rubbed her temples and squeezed her eyes shut. “I can’t do this before coffee.”

“Are you unwell?” He reached for her, purple hand stroking her pale arm. “Should I comm the sick bay?”

Soon he would stop asking and would simply comm them. He did not believe she acted like a healthy female.

“Just take a chill pill for a minute.” She gently brushed his touch away and he struggled to restrain his whine at her denial. “You don’t need to panic every time I make a sound. For now, let’s focus on one thing at a time. First, where can I find coffee?”

Zyriq pushed his shoulders back and tipped up his chin, proud to have a clear answer to her question. At least, this was an item he discussed previously. “You cannot have ko-fee.”

“Excuse me?” Baila’s words were calm, soft and even. The words were not threatening, and her tone remained bland, yet a spear of unease attacked him. “Why not?”

“Adhoe forbids the liquid. It provides no nutritional value and caffeine is classified as a mind-altering drug.”

“Drug… Seriously? And you believe him? You’re actually listening to him?”

“Yabi,” he softened his voice, pleading with her with his eyes to understand. “I wish to protect you and our young. Adhoe is not the most agreeable male but he is a highly trained healer.”

Baila shook her head. “I don’t need your protection and Adhoe can shove his highly trained ass into a coffee machine.” She rubbed the mound of her stomach, now covered with her clothing. “I need coffee.”

She pressed one hand to her lower back while she placed the other on the mattress. Then came the struggle to stand upright, and he reached for her only to earn a snarl in return.

Zyriq, a warrior and first son to the Warking, jumped back. Her glare and the curl of her lip reminded him of one of Morea’s largest beasts. One that rivaled the Earth’s elephant in size and honey badger in temperament.

“The warriors responsible for meals have been informed you are not to be provided coffee. Where do you intend to secure the beverage?”

She quirked a single brow. “Just because you control the men on your ship doesn’t mean your commands extend beyond the airlock. I’m going to the station.”

Now was the opportunity to reveal the truth to his bonded. Hopefully this time she would believe him and understand his intent. It was obvious she had not accepted his previous proclamations—she belonged to him.

“Baila, yabi, you are no longer…” He could release the words. He could. The first son of Morea did not hesitate to deliver the truth. Ever. “We are no longer docked at Ark Station Zeta.”

Baila closed her eyes, frozen in place. “Tell me you’re joking.” She opened her eyes once more, blazing anger obvious in her burning gaze. “Tell me you’re joking.”

Zyriq shook his head, regret suffusing him. “I am sorry, yabi, but I am not. We are traveling to Morea.”

“No way. You’re crazy.”

“I am not crazy.” Zyriq reached for her, but she jerked back, moving out of reach. “Perhaps you would believe me if I show you proof?”

“Fine.” She folded her arms over her ample chest, accentuating their abundance. “Show me then.”

Zyriq stepped away, moving to the far wall. “Come, yabi.”

He tapped a few buttons on the wall, directing the ship to reveal the world beyond theirs. The panel shimmered, transforming and retreating until the darkness of space intruded. Distant stars glittered against the blackness, the view changing as Warking’s Blade traveled through the galaxy.

Baila padded toward him—toward the view—and she extended her arm. Her fingertips brushed the solid view screen. Her breath caught, body freezing in place for a moment before she spun to face him. She glared daggers at Zyriq, her fury flowing into him.

“You can’t just do this.” She whacked his chest.

Zyriq furrowed his brow and stared at the spot she’d struck. He hardly felt the attack, but he worried she would do herself injury if she kept trying to attack him.

“Are you listening to me?” She then poked him in the chest, accentuating each word with a jab. “You. Can’t. Do. This.”

“Do what?”

“Kidnap people!” she roared. He would not tell her how beautiful she looked when she yelled at him. He did not believe she would appreciate the compliment. Baila rubbed her forehead. “I know you told my mother you were kidnapping me, but god. I thought you were kidding.”

Zyriq hated to see any type of discomfort in his bonded. She should only ever smile. Perhaps apologizing and begging for forgiveness for his actions would cease some of her anger, but he could not apologize. Not when he was not sorry for his actions.

He cupped her rounded belly, pressing the thin shirt against her stomach. The nearly transparent fabric revealed the purple skin it had hidden. Her attention drifted to his hand, her own joining his. Pale skin the color of milk and the purple of his people combined to create the young Baila carried.

“The young one inside you is the only permission I required.” He could not help the rumbling tone of his voice. Yet the tone caused a look of fear to flash across his bonded’s face. He forced his features to soften, attempting to soothe the unease he’d caused.

“Yabi, do not think of it as kidnapping. It is a relocation for the health of our young one.” Surely, she would agree his actions were correct when done to benefit their offspring.

Surely.

Baila glared at him. “Uh-huh. Right.”

He believed humans called her words sar-ka-sum.

Zyriq grunted. “If you had not lost consciousness prior to departure we could have discussed the relocation. However, you were unavailable.”

Based on Baila’s frown, Zyriq decided he had much to learn about communicating with his bonded. Much.