Torn between compassion and anger, Lily watched Arton stomp from the room. “He just might be the most obstinate person ever inflicted on this galaxy.”

Skyla’s smile was patient, almost serene. “You haven’t met his father.”

Lily pushed back from the table and put the dishes in the recycler, afraid she’d start throwing them if she didn’t remove the temptation. “How can you keep doing it year after year? If someone slapped my hand away as many times as he’s done it to you, I think I’d stop holding it out.”

“If he were just being a jerk, I wouldn’t put up with it. But Arton’s resentment is born of pain, deep and abiding pain. The anger and bitterness has kept him alive. It’s all he knows, all he has ever known.”

“But he’s safe now. Why can’t he get past it?”

“I don’t think he knows how.” Skyla helped her clear the table, then they went into the living room and sat on the sofa. “He lashes out whenever he feels vulnerable. It’s a protective mechanism and I’m not even sure he’s aware of how often he does it.”

“So how can we reach him without making him feel vulnerable?”

“I can’t. Trust me. I’ve been trying for thirty-six years. The harbinger leaders convinced him that Kryton is a villain. Their lies penetrated so deeply that Arton believes them to this day. I’m an extension of Kryton, so I’m guilty by association. You, on the other hand, have no connection to my mate. You’re part of Arton’s new life, so there’s a slim chance he’ll let you in.”

“I want that so badly, it’s ridiculous.” She sighed and whispered under her breath. “If only we were compatible. He couldn’t hide from a true mate.”

Skyla scrunched up her face, obviously confused by Lily’s comments. “Aren’t you his anchor? That’s basically the same thing.”

Lily looked into Skyla’s eyes, intrigued by her statement. “What are you talking about? Arton’s anchor is Kage, and Arton insists that they aren’t lovers.”

Skyla looked slightly guilty. “I think I’ve—how do you humans say—let the cat out of the bag.”

“Well, the damage is done. You might as well explain what you meant. If you don’t, I’ll just ask Arton, and he’s obviously not ready for me to know.”

Pursing her lips, Skyla paused, likely debating her options. All of a sudden she shrugged and the tension melted from her features. “An anchor bond can be formed with anyone, so it can be nonsexual. However, if the harbinger wants it to be more, he can open the link so wide it rivals a mating bond. You would share thoughts and emotions, even experience life from each other’s perspective once you learned to navigate the link.”

“But it wouldn’t allow us to have children together?”

Skyla shook her head. “Unfortunately not. To my knowledge there is nothing that can make that possible if you’re not genetically compatible.”

Lily nodded, saddened by the confirmation yet encouraged by the rest. If they could bond as closely as compatible couples, it would make life richer, more fulfilling. So why hadn’t he at least told her it was an option?

“I shouldn’t have said anything.” Skyla frowned, compassion warming her gaze. “Clearly, I’ve upset you.”

“No. Arton upset me. We’ve been together less than a week, but he keeps insisting he wishes we could mate. Either he was lying about that or... Is it possible he doesn’t know about what you just told me?”

Again Skyla shook her head. “He knows. No one can construct an anchor bond without understanding how it works. I think he’s protecting you from his past. If he made you his anchor—”

“I’d have access to his memories.” Again Lily sighed, yet a bit of her frustration eased. It wasn’t indifference that kept him away. It was his determination to protect her. “Kage told me he has a hard time coping with some of the images.”

“Think how much harder it would be for you,” Skyla cautioned. “You’re not nearly as jaded as Overlord Razel.”

“True, but that doesn’t mean I’m too weak to deal with it.” She loved his protective instincts. It made her feel special and cared for when he was ready to jump in and fight her battles for her. However, it also showed that he doubted the strength of her resolve. She straightened her back and lifted her chin. “Regardless of what Arton believes, I won’t dissolve into hysterics if I’m exposed to the darker side of life.”

“Males continually underestimate the strength and resilience of females.” Skyla reached over and squeezed her hand. “I do not. I know you can, and will, triumph over any adversity life sends your way.”

“I appreciate your vote of confidence, but what I really need is a Ghost Guide. I assume you aren’t willing to hang around until all the transformations have taken place.”

Skyla’s head dipped once acknowledging Lily’s prediction. “That’s a safe assumption. My mate will be furious when he realizes where I’ve gone. However, I will get things started like I did with the battle born. I’ll spend some time with the transformed females and train a team leader.”

“Who can in turn train her team of guides?”

“Exactly. I had an advantage with Rebecca. She bonded with my son, so her abilities mirror mine. Still, I’m confident I can locate someone equally competent. It’s really not that hard once the person understands how to manipulate the metaphysical plane.”

Lily knew her smile was wistful, but she couldn’t hide her envy. She would never understand what any of it felt like unless Arton started trusting her.

Skyla suddenly turned her head toward the door, then gazed off into the distance. “He’s on his way back.” Her eyes refocused and she pushed to her feet. “It’s probably best if I’m not here when he arrives.”

Lily stood too, fascinated by Skyla’s casual claim. “You know where he is at all times?”

“Of course not. That would make me a god. I formed a connection to Arton years ago when we interacted in the dream realm. I’m able to sense him when his emotions are particularly volatile and when I intentionally search for him. It’s not unlike the link I have with my biological children.”

Something in Skyla’s phrasing made Lily ask, “Do you consider Arton your son?”

“I always have and always will.” Skyla’s smile was sad as she headed for the door. “Now all I have to do is convince one of the most obstinate males in the galaxy to change his mind about me.”

Lily followed her to the door, not wanting the visit to end. “Well, I won’t just be rooting for you. I’ll do everything in my power to help take the blinders off his eyes.”

“I know you will.” Skyla gave her a quick hug. “We’ll talk again soon.”

Arton returned so quickly after Skyla’s departure that Lily wondered if they’d passed each other in the corridor. Rather than ask him about it and risk starting an argument about Skyla, she simply waited for him to speak. He made eye contact briefly, then strode across the cabin and manufactured a drink. After tossing back the cloudy blue liquor, he put the glass in the recycler and faced her.

“I can’t be what they want me to be. I’m not sure I ever could.” Rather than bitter, he sounded sad, so she didn’t mention his rude departure earlier.

“What do they want you to be?” She moved toward him cautiously. His emotional volatility always made her feel helpless. “I don’t understand your objection.”

“They want me to be...one of them.”

She wasn’t sure what that meant. Only knew he believed it, and felt it was enough of an obstacle to prevent reconciliation. “That might have been true in the past, but Skyla said she was ready to change. She said she’d do this on your terms.”

He laughed, but the sound was harsh and humorless. “Why would Skyla Lux, cherished mate of the venerable Kryton Lux want anything to do with a renegade harbinger?”

As long as he believed that his father didn’t want him, no one could convince him that Skyla’s affection was real. They stood near the nutrition station, awkwardly facing each other. Less than four feet separated them, yet he had never seemed farther away.

Choosing her words with the utmost care, Lily ventured closer to the heart of the turmoil. “Can I ask a question without making you angry?”

His head tilted and his eyes narrowed. “If you have to ask, it’s unlikely.”

He was right, but she had to try. “Did your tutors ever lie to you?”

After a tense pause, he admitted, “Much, perhaps most, of what they told me was untrue.”

She was so relieved that he’d answered honestly that she nearly lost her nerve. But this had to end, and their attraction gave her a freedom he would allow no one else. “Then why are you so certain that what your tutors told you about Kryton is true? Do you have other evidence that your father deserted you?”

A sound part sigh and part snarl escaped his throat as he skirted the table and chairs. He crossed the small living room and sat in one of the tall-backed armchairs. “I am well aware that the tutors played head games with me. Even before I had the freedom to research the validity of their claims, I suspected that they lied to me. There was one exception, however.”

“Do you mean a subject or a source of information?” She followed him into the living room and sat on the sofa, which faced his chair.

“They were one and the same.” He paused, taking a deep breath before he began. “Most of my tutors were vile, corrupt abominations. They controlled the trainees through fear and intimidation. Brother Nanteen was different. He brought me food and honest information, often at great risk to himself. To my knowledge, he never lied to me. And I verified his claims just like I verified everyone else’s.”

“It was this Brother Nanteen that told you Kryton abandoned you?”

He shook his head, face averted, gaze unfocused. He was clearly lost in yesteryear. “I was ten when I met Brother Nanteen, so I’d already been told that my loving father had no time for or interest in me. Kryton never even bothered to visit in over a decade. Not once!”

According to Kage, Kryton had attempted to visit numerous times, had exhausted every appeal and legal course of action, but the harbingers blocked him at every turn. Arton had doubtlessly heard the defense and rejected it, so Lily just listened.

“Kryton went on camera hundreds of times in a plethora of situations begging to see me or threatening Harbinger Guild.” Arton’s posture grew tense and defensive the longer he spoke. “He appeared heartbroken and tormented, but his pain was obviously a publicity stunt.”

“A publicity stunt?” She tried not to sound as shocked as she felt. What the hell was he talking about? His conclusion didn’t even make sense. “Kryton Lux was in the military. How does a general benefit from publicity?”

“Generals benefit from the support of rulers, and rulers benefit from publicity. Having one of the crown favorites all but martyred for such a sympathetic cause worked to the ruler’s advantage. Harbinger Guild’s leaders weren’t showing the proper respect, so the ruler—with Kryton’s assistance—pressured them to remember their place.”

His explanation was so convoluted it made her brain itch. “How does Kryton pretending to grieve for his son pressure Harbinger Guild to ‘show the proper respect’?”

“By sobbing pathetically and vowing to lay siege to the academy, Kryton created animosity against Harbinger Guild. There were protests and boycotts. They never lasted long or accomplished much, but the negative publicity was enough to curtail the bad behavior of the more rebellious guild leaders.”

The cause and effect seemed flimsy, but he clearly believed every word. “You saw all of this as it happened, or you were told what was going on by your tutors?”

“I took nothing on faith. I knew my tutors misled and manipulated me, so I verified each claim with objective sources. Kryton used me like a prop for as long as it benefited his career, and then lost interest entirely.”

It wasn’t true. She knew in her heart of hearts that it was a reality the harbingers had shaped for him, but why did he defend it so vehemently? Why justify the actions of his abusers? “Who first told you this was happening? How old were you?”

He glared at her for so long she didn’t think he’d answer. Had he simply tired of her questions or had she ventured too near something he didn’t want to reveal? “The others claimed that Kryton abandoned me, that he dropped me off and never looked back. I knew that was unlikely. Pride alone would have demanded retaliation. But regardless of my protests and temper tantrums, my tutors wouldn’t change their story.”

“You didn’t answer the original question. Who told you he was using you to further his career?”

“Brother Nanteen was the only person I trusted at Harbinger Academy. He was kind to me, protected me, so I asked him what was really going on.”

“And he told you—”

“He didn’t tell me anything. He brought me news feed clips and articles that documented Kryton’s rise to power. As I said before, I saw much of what happened with my own eyes.”

“You saw it happen live, or was everything provided by Brother Nanteen?” This was getting redundant, but she just couldn’t give up. This was the first time he’d shared anything that happened at the academy. She would not squander the opportunity.

“I didn’t attend the charity balls or council meetings, but the news feeds were live, or they were recordings of what had been live coverage.” His gaze searched hers for a long moment before he asked, “What are you getting at? Just spit it out.”

“Is it possible the information Brother Nanteen gave you was carefully edited so it told the exact story he wanted you to hear. Did you have direct access to any of the information or did everything come through the guild leaders?”

“You have no idea how long I fought against the conclusion that I meant nothing to my own flesh and blood.” His voice grew louder as his agitation mounted. “Who wants to accept that about their father?” He shot to his feet, too angry to sit still. “I denied it and made excuses for him until it was obvious I was fooling myself.” Pacing in front of the couch, he accented each point with a sharp gesture. “He used my image to garner support from all his rich friends. He spoke in front of the other guilds, trying to get them to denounce Harbinger Guild, yet he left me stranded in... Why didn’t he protect me, if he loved me so gods damn much!”

She stood and cautiously approached him. The more vulnerable he felt, the more aggressive he’d become. She’d seen the progression, understood what fueled his fire. He wouldn’t hurt her physically. Harming any female was unthinkable to him. But words could be just as hurtful as any blow. She had to remain strong, regardless of his bitter words or accusations. “He tried, Arton. It took him much longer than he wanted, but he never stopped trying.”

His gaze iced over and features locked into an expressionless mask. “Change the subject or get out. I’ve lost interest in this conversation.”

And already he shut down. Hurt and frustrated, Lily glanced at the door. If she left now, it was unlikely he’d ever allow her to return. He’d retreat deeper into his misery and reinforce the emotional barriers that needed to come down so desperately. Rather than attempt another direct approach, she shifted her focus and risked one last attempt.

“I’ll never mention your past again—ever,” she paused for affect. “If you do one thing for me.”

His shoulders tensed and his features stilled, his gaze locked with hers. “Name it.”

Her mouth dried out and her pulse raced. This was so reckless, so damn risky. The ultimatum she was about to issue might shatter the progress they’d made, but they’d remain locked in emotional limbo unless something she tried broke through. “There’s no hope for our future unless we trust each other. I believe my actions and attitudes have proven that I trust you. Now I need a demonstration of your trust in me.”

“Meaning?” He ground out the word as his jaw clenched.

“Make me your anchor.”

“Absolutely not!”

Her heartbeat echoed in her ears, but she forced herself to throw down the gauntlet. “Then I’ll walk away. Trust can’t be one-sided.”

He took an automatic step back, confusion clouding his eyes. Then understanding spread across his features. His lips pressed and his nostrils flared as he dragged his gaze from hers. “You don’t know what you’re asking.”

“Actually I do. I know an anchor bond would allow us to communicate like true mates.”

He snarled and turned away, his emotions setting him in motion again. “Who told you? Did Kage betray me?”

“No,” she stressed, disappointed by every step he took away from her. “I spoke with him, but he was very careful not to violate your trust.” Her admission seemed to fascinate him and she wasn’t sure why.

He faced her again, though half a room separated them now. “You went to the overlord—a male that terrifies you—and asked him, what exactly?”

She swallowed with difficulty. He hadn’t thrown her out yet. Was there some small chance he’d actually agree? “I asked him for advice on how to...get closer to you. I want—no, I need more than amazing sex from a long-term relationship.”

He stalked toward her, stride rolling, utterly predatory. “And what advice did my best friend give you?”

Stubbornly holding her ground, she met his gaze. “He suggested I be patient yet persistent. He encouraged me not to give up.”

A faint hint of a smile lifted one corner of his mouth. “You’ve got the persistent part down.” They stood within easy reach of each other, but he made no move to touch her. “If it wasn’t Kage, it had to be Skyla. She’s the only other person with a full understanding of how the anchor bond works.”

“She didn’t mean to tell me. She presumed I was already your anchor, so my ignorance surprised her.” Before he could respond to the statement, she asked, “Why didn’t you tell me? You keep insisting that you would mate with me if you could, yet you intentionally kept this from me.”

Something dark and dangerous sparked within his eyes. He raised his arm and wrapped one hand around her throat. He didn’t squeeze, applied only enough pressure to ensure she felt the strength in his fingers. “You want to meet the real me? You honestly think you’re ready for that sort of evil?”

“You’re not evil. Evil things were done to you, but that doesn’t make you evil.”

“How would you know? You’ve never seen real evil.” He lowered his hand to her shoulder, but didn’t retreat. “Last chance, silly human.” He raised his other arm and unfastened the top button on her dress. “Lift the ultimatum or I’ll give you exactly what you asked for.”

She had to be brave, had to be fearless, or she would never reach him. Their relationship would remain superficial and meaningless. Being with him, yet remaining separate from him, would be worse than not having him at all.

“I’m not afraid.” It was a lie and they both knew it.

“You will be. I guarantee it.” With smooth dexterity and ruthless focus, he unbuttoned her uniform top and guided her arms from the sleeves.

She watched his face, gauging his reaction to her surrender. She made no move to cover her body, even when he tugged her pants past her hips, leaving her naked before him.

“On your knees.” His voice was rough, emotionless. He was still trying to frighten her, to drive her away so he could lick his emotional wounds.

If this was the price for their future together, she’d pay it gladly. Her discarded uniform cushioned her knees as she sank to the floor. If he was trying to intimidate her, it wasn’t working. She reached for the front of his jeans, but he grabbed her wrists and shook his head.

“Hands behind your back.”

Fine. He clearly felt threatened by her ultimatum and was trying to regain control. Well, she didn’t want to control him. She wanted to comfort him. She bent her arms back and clasped her hands, keeping herself in the awkward position. Then she licked her lips and looked at him, challenge burning in her eyes.

His expression didn’t change, but his hands shook a little as he opened his pants and guided her onto his cock. The maneuver was telling. He hadn’t moved his hips toward her. He’d brought her mouth to him. If she wanted him to accept her demand, she had to accept his.

One of his hands slipped into her hair as he rocked his hips. He pulled nearly out before thrusting deep again. She couldn’t really move without risking her tenuous balance, so she kept her lips in a firm circle and sucked. He moved faster, rocking her slightly with his fervor. Fighting for balance, she moved her legs apart. Her precarious position made her feel out of control yet strangely exhilarated. She was freed by the intensity of his need for her.

His gaze bore into hers, a combination of anger and hunger twisting his features. “More,” he growled out. “Take it all.”

His next thrust bumped the back of her throat, threatening to gag her. She combatted his aggression with tenderness, swirling her tongue and sucking even harder.

He groaned and tossed his head, clearly lost in the pleasure. Moving both hands to her face, he held her head at the perfect angle for his urgent thrusting. He possessed her, claimed her mouth with unabashed urgency.

She reveled in the frenzy, empowered by his obvious need. Her nipples tingled and her core clenched, more than ready for their next joining.

As if hearing her body’s invitation, he pulled out of her mouth and staggered back a step. His jeans sagged around his thighs, but otherwise he was still fully dressed. He pulled her to her feet, then led her to the side of the sofa, bending her over the padded arm. She put out her hands to prevent herself from face-planting on the seat cushions.

He didn’t speak, did nothing to reassure her as he kicked her feet apart and thrust deep into her waiting passage. The sudden fullness dragged a gasp from her throat and his haste set fire to her smoldering senses. She felt uninhibited, bold as never before.

Tossing her hair out of her face, she arched her back and took him deeper. His ragged groan made her smile, so she tightened her inner muscles and rocked her hips. He might have controlled her in the beginning, but they were equal partners now. He grabbed her hips, moving in and out with punishing speed.

“Is that all you’ve got?” She tossed the taunt over her shoulder as she slammed her hips backward, colliding with his groin.

“You want more?” He grabbed her hair and pulled her head back and to the side. “You want all of me?”

“Yes!” She met him stroke for stroke, wild with the need to break through his barriers. “Give it to me.”

He sealed his mouth over hers, the kiss savage. “Can’t say I didn’t warn you,” he spoke the words against her parted lips, then his presence stabbed into her mind. Reality shattered as his energy saturated her senses and infiltrated her thinking. Rage, incendiary and endless, burned through her soul, destroying everything in its path. She panted, yet her lungs still burned from lack of air.

As quickly as the anger flared, it subsided. She hung, suspended in utter darkness, alone and terrified. She struggled, but she had no arms or legs. She screamed and screamed, yet no sound rang out. There were no physical sensations of any kind, just an overwhelming sense of isolation.

Just when the loneliness threatened to overpower her mind, pain burned away the darkness. Images formed within the shadows, growing more distinct with each breath she took. A child with silver-and-black hair knelt on a stone floor, head bent, hands bound to the wall in front of him. A Rodyte male in a dark blue tunic and pale gray pants beat the boy with a wide strap. The strap left vicious red welts on the boy’s pale flesh. The boy jerked and twisted, screaming in agony with each impact.

“I think you’re starting to like this,” the male sneered, sadistic hunger burning in his eyes. “Guess I’ll have to dig out my whip.”

The scene faded suddenly, replaced by a dizzying montage of images and emotions. Each scene was more disturbing than the last, each emotion more heartrending. She was insulated by the sheer speed with which they flowed.

The child was now ten or twelve. He huddled in the corner of a stone chamber, naked and filthy. His knees were drawn up to his chest and he rocked, trying in vain to stay warm.

She saw him training with a different tutor, though the purpose of the lesson was unclear. Arton was dressed in a dark blue tunic and pale gray pants, his hair had been shaved nearly to the scalp.

“Concentrate, you fool,” the tutor snarled. “This should be second nature for you.”

When the verbal prompting didn’t have the desired result, the tutor swung a willowy rod, striking Arton across the back of his thighs. Arton gasped, but didn’t cry out as his gaze iced over with hate.

The image faded and a chorus of voices echoed from the shadows.

“You’re useless!”

“Organic, my ass. Your control is pathetic.

“We’ve been through this a thousand times before. Get it right this time!”

“Elite piece of shit. No wonder your father abandoned you.”

“Are you a mental defective? This should be easy for an organic harbinger. You’re just being stubborn.”

The transfer sped even further. She saw physical and emotional abuse in every combination imaginable. More beatings, starvation joined burns, sleep deprivation and endless demeaning reticule. Arton grew hard and rebellious, challenging his abusers at every turn. Their punishments grew dangerously brutal, and still he wouldn’t break.

Then the images slowed, blurring as the connection refocused. Like a video on fast-forward, each scene appeared individually, yet none lingered in her mind. He was a young man now, late teens, his body lean and whipcord strong.

Hard, driving lust accompanied the first image, building steadily with each scene that followed. Shame tainted the desire, so she fought against the current, not wanting to watch his young body violated by those evil monsters. She’d seen so much already. She’d hoped that the universe had spared Arton the final indignity.

But the lust emanated from Arton not his tutors. Arton was the aggressor in each scene. Some images were clearly consensual, his partners every bit as passionate as he. Yet some of the females lay trembling beneath him, faces turned away, eyes tightly closed. A few even struggled, pleading softly while Arton held them down.

“Evil enough for you?” Arton’s deep adult voice sliced through the memories, yanking her back into the present. He held her pinned against the arm of the couch. His cock was still hard deep inside her.

Panting from the emotional tempest, she could barely speak. “I don’t understand. Who were they? Why would you...take them if they didn’t want you to?”

He drew back, holding her firmly in place with both hands on her hips. “Because you’re wrong. I’m evil!” He punctuated the claim with a violent thrust.

She smothered her cry, knowing he was trying to make her react.

“I’m a rapist and murder.” He wrapped both arms around her, one around her shoulders, the other banding her waist. And his hips took on a fast, shallow rhythm that kept her senses simmering. “Still want your mind linked with mine?”

“Yes,” she stressed, but her voice sounded much less certain now. “There’s a reason for what I saw.” She tried to look at him. He released her waist and turned her head back around. “There had to be a reason. You wouldn’t harm a female on purpose. Tell me why.”

With a frustrated growl, he rocked her forward until her feet no longer touched the deck. “My cock was hard so I fucked them, just like I’m fucking you!”

He drove into her over and over, jarring her body with each impact. She braced herself with her hands, keeping her face from rubbing against the seat cushions. If their minds hadn’t been linked, she would have been horrified. But she felt the pain, the desperate need for understanding that threaded through every hateful word. Despite his superficial hostility, they were closer to a breakthrough than ever before.