Chapter Ten

 

 

 

Bayla didn’t know which was worse—choosing to leave Daneth or hearing that he’d given his permission for it. For some reason, she’d thought he might fight to keep her. She’d imagined that even though he was angry, he still had feelings for her. But maybe she’d equated lust with love. Simply because she’d once inspired desire didn’t mean he cared.

She had no personal belongings but brought along the clothing that had been allotted to her since her arrival on the palatial pod. Rok pointed at an empty seat on his ship and told her to buckle up. She stuffed the small bundle of clothing under her seat and snapped her harness in place. The moment they left the dock, her eyes watered.

Which was stupid. Why would she cry over leaving a male who didn’t give a shooting star about her?

Lily sat beside Rok in the copilot’s chair, but, once they were flying, turned and gave her a sympathetic look. “I never conceived. I don’t know if I can. They shot me full of hormones to prevent pregnancy.”

Damn Lily and her sympathy. The tears brimming in Bayla’s eyes spilled over. She hadn’t been crying over her lost babies, but now that wound opened, too. “I have two out there somewhere.” She shocked herself at sharing something so personal. “One half-breed son born to a wealthy Ocretion. I’ll never see him again. And a human daughter, a slave somewhere.”

“Maybe Lundric could find her,” Cambry offered, shooting a glance at her handsome young mate.

The warrior buried his fingers in her long red mane and appeared to be massaging her scalp. Cambry leaned into his touch.

Bayla’s stomach tightened watching them, loneliness engulfing her.

“We can search the Ocretion databases.” There was a note of caution in Lundric’s voice. “But I don’t have the funds to buy another slave. I spent my life’s savings on your brother.”

Cambry’s face went soft, and she locked eyes with her lover, unspoken messages seeming to transmit between the two of them.

“Don’t ask me, I’ve been broke since I traded our last smuggling shipment for Lily instead of currency,” Rok spoke up.

Lily leaned over and said something in his ear that made him smile.

“Well, the first step is to locate the young. Then we can figure out how to retrieve her,” Lundric said.

She blinked rapidly to hide her tears of gratitude. “You all will really help me find her?” She’d never considered finding her babies possible. Had never dared dream of it, except the occasional sad fantasy that her daughter might end up in the same fertility farm where she worked. Even if that did happen, though, she didn’t know if she’d recognize her. The Ocretions would purposely keep any identifying information from them both.

For some reason, her hand drifted to her abdomen and she rubbed it, as if she still carried her child there.

Perhaps she would survive the heartache of leaving Daneth. She had new friends. They wanted to help her search for her baby. And she a purpose—helping a nearly extinct species. Not in the way they’d wanted her to, but she’d still try to be of use.

 

~.~

 

Daneth’s chamber screamed empty. The entire palatial pod echoed with silence, in fact. Or maybe that was his heart. Since Bayla had left and taken his vecking soul with her, the simplest tasks seemed a chore.

At first he’d thought his mood was low because his life’s work and dreams had been dashed, but the longer the hours without Bayla stretched, the more he realized it was her.

He missed her clean, citrusy scent, the pleasure of her plump flesh under his hands, the softness of her skin.

Never in his life had he liked being around other beings—preferring to bury his nose in science, in his studies, but he suddenly hated being alone. He found himself drifting out of his lab and around the pod, yet he met no other being he wished to share his time with.

Every cell in his body seemed to ache for Bayla. Simply living became an agony.

Several times, he considered going after her, but he resisted. She’d asked to leave. She deserved her freedom.

He probably deserved this pain. He hadn’t been kind to her. Hadn’t listened or asked questions. He didn’t know nearly enough about his lovely human. Sure, he had her file. He knew how many pregnancies and live births she’d had. Knew her age and her blood type. Knew her hormone levels. But he hadn’t found out what was in that beautiful mind of hers. That enormous heart.

She’d loved her babies. She must have, or she wouldn’t have found it too painful to have another taken from her.

Why hadn’t he guessed that? Why hadn’t he known what she held in the space behind those beautiful tits of hers?

He’d been selfish. He hadn’t cared, plain and simple. To him, she’d been a vessel. A particularly lovely vessel, but a body he’d purchased for one purpose.

Only now did he wish he’d seen the woman behind the body. And now it was too late.

He went to Zander’s room to check on Lamira, though he already knew from the sensors he’d implanted in her that she’d had no more contractions. He knocked on her door and entered.

She was alone, flipping through holograms on farming. He’d bought her from an agrifarm, and she’d brought her expertise in gardening to the palatial pod, filling the great hall with potted fruits and vegetables. He’d advised Zander to encourage her hobby, as it may benefit their species when they took back Zandia.

“How are you feeling?”

“Fine.” She closed the hologram. “Actually, bored. May I get up now?”

He shook his head regretfully. “No. Bayla was right about bed rest.” It pained him to say her name, and Lamira didn’t miss it.

“You haven’t forgiven her.”

He drew in a sharp breath through his nose. Had he? “Whether I have or not doesn’t matter. She’s gone, and my project is at a dead end.”

“None of the eggs were viable. Not even the one you implanted.”

He stopped breathing. He’d measured Lamira’s brainwaves and seen for himself the extrasensory abilities she had. “Is that true?” he choked.

She nodded. “It would have miscarried by ten weeks. Bayla only hurried the process along.”

He staggered back a step, his gut reeling as if she’d punched him.

Bayla had made a mistake, but the outcome would’ve been the same if she hadn’t. He’d blamed her for the downfall of his project, but it had been doomed from the start.

“Why didn’t you say so earlier?”

“I only saw it this morning. I’m sorry.”

He rubbed his forehead, suddenly exhausted.

“One more thing. Your project isn’t lost. There are two Zandian females of breeding age still alive.”

He went still. “What? Where?”

“I don’t know where. Master Seke’s two daughters escaped the genocide of Zandia with Rok. I believe they survived and are out there somewhere. Master Seke and his lieutenant, Tomis, are out searching right now.”

One small piece of his decimated heart rebuilt. Hope remained for their species. An even better chance of survival than his project afforded—if they could locate the missing females. He could extract eggs from them to impregnate multiple humans, even while the females themselves were bred. If the females and Master Seke allowed it, of course. And that hope immediately brought Bayla back to his mind. His perfect vessel.

“You should bring her back.” Lamira must have read his thoughts.

But he couldn’t. It wouldn’t be right. He shook his head. “No. This information doesn’t change anything. She’s better off where she is. She didn’t wish to be a vessel.”

“She didn’t want to have a child taken from her,” Lamira corrected, shoving a fresh blade of pain into his ribs. “Pregnancy itself could be a pleasure to her, under the right circumstances.”

His fingers curled into fists. He wasn’t going to breed her—though she’d be perfect for the job. The idea of allowing another male to rut in her made him want to commit murder. “You...see that?”

Lamira’s focus had gone soft, the way it did when she reached for information beyond her normal means. “Yes. She will love being pregnant the next time. And it will be soon.”

His nostrils flared. Not his Bayla. Not by another male. He wanted to jump on a spacecraft and follow her to the training pod immediately. Kill any male—Zandian or human—who even thought about breeding with her.

But that wasn’t right. He’d failed to consider her feelings and chosen her fate for her once with disastrous results. This time, she deserved to choose her own path. And she’d chosen to leave him.

As much as it pained him, he must honor her wishes and let her go.

Even though it would probably kill him.