Darcone stopped and stared at the door to his quarters, snorting at the idea of any woman waiting inside for him except Brianna. As his fingers slid across a hidden keypad on the wall, the door clicked open to let him enter. He stopped at the sight of the clone sitting on the sofa wearing some of his clothes.

She looked up and frowned at him. “Don’t growl at me. Your woman put me here. I knew it was your quarters from the smell.”

Darcone blew out a breath. Then he laughed over what Maslin had said. “My woman, she is not. Hates me, Bri does.”

Maslin huffed. “Why? What did you do wrong?”

“No idea,” Darcone said succinctly. When someone knocked on the door, he growled as he turned to it. No one ever came to his room uninvited.

“Geez. Do you growl over everything? That’s probably dinner and I’m starving. Your kitchen has no food in it so I missed lunch. You should be nice to the people who feed you. They’re sometimes trained in poison.”

Huffing in irritation over Maslin’s common sense, Darcone opened the door and stared at the nervous-looking cook pushing a cart. He nodded at the man. “Smells good,” he said in concession, stepping aside.

Looking relieved, the cook rolled in the cart and bowed once before bolting back out the door.

Darcone huffed again and shut the door. Were food carts his life now? He usually prepared his own food. He glanced at Maslin who’d bounded off the sofa and was already rolling the cart to the table. Not knowing what else to do, he retrieved two drinks from his kitchen area and brought them to the table. Maslin had already set his food out and was digging into hers like she was truly starving. Was he now going to have to personally care for this female so she continued to live?

Darcone sat. He looked at the food then looked at Maslin. “Unexpected, you are.”

Maslin snorted and stopped eating. “You need to work on your English. The words are right, but you’ve got them in the wrong order.”

“Understand this, I do not.”

Maslin shook her head and stopped chewing. “No, it’s—I do not understand this,” she said, pronouncing each word clearly.

Darcone growled. “Speak wrong. Think wrong. All wrong.”

“You can’t be all wrong. The woman reeked of you,” Maslin said, going back to her food. “And while I find that disturbing on some level, I also find it… hopeful. There haven't been any males in my life. I don’t think I would mind one day reeking of one.”

Remembering Bri’s taunt about Maslin’s untried sexual state, Darcone dropped his gaze. He ate a couple of bites of food. It tasted like nothing to him. He lifted his gaze to the female across the table. His brain struggled with the structure she insisted was more correct. “You,” he said pointing, “are my child. This I know in here.” He tapped his chest with his fingers. “You came from me.”

Maslin shrugged. “So your woman keeps saying, but she had a different take on our relationship.”

“Bri—Commander to you,” Darcone said firmly.

Grinning, Maslin nodded. “Dude, you don’t know the half of it. The other males treat her like they treat each other, but with more fear. They respect her. Is she really so fierce?”

“Yes,” Darcone said simply. “Like this about her, I do.”

Maslin snickered. “I’m not surprised. She said the same thing about you.”

Darcone shook his head. Bri spoke ill to him in person, yet spoke well of him to his clone—such a confusing woman he’d bedded. “Understand Bri, I…” Darcone stopped at Maslin’s stern look. His brain scrambled again, so he spoke slowly. “I do not understand Bri. Always angry, she is.”

“Because she cares more about you than she wants to. I imagine to her that feels like a fatal flaw,” Maslin said quietly. She looked at Darcone. “It’s good you’re trying to speak better. Soon it will be natural. Just flip things around in your head. The subject of your sentence structure comes first in our language.”

“Bri made me hers.”

Maslin grinned. “Well, you said the sentence right, but I don’t think the words are as true as you think they are.” She sighed. “There must be something true in what you think about our connection. I am compelled to care about you. Why is that, Darcone? I was taught to push such weakness away.”

“Bad teacher forget you are part human,” Darcone said. “Compassion is strength on this planet… and mine. Makes warriors more fierce.”

Maslin nodded. “Speaking of fierce, your woman wants to kill me. I think you’re the only reason she hasn’t.”

Darcone chewed slowly, letting that sink in. Bri did want to kill Maslin Jones. He’d seen the bloodlust in her gaze. But now she also seemed to wish for his death which did worry him a little. He liked her aggression in bed though. She had been worth the wait and would be again—if he ever figured out how to get her to not be mad at him.

When he left his thoughts, he noticed Maslin still staring at him, waiting for him to comment about Bri wanting to kill her. It was reasonable of his clone to be concerned.

“Kill you, Bri will. Give her no reason. This be good advice, Clone. Listen well.”

Maslin snorted. “Thanks, but I was sort of hoping you’d use your superpowers to save me. Why don't you use your death growl on the Commander? It froze me in place. It was like my muscles were temporarily paralyzed by the sounds you were making.”

Darcone shrugged in answer, unwilling to explain Bri’s reactions to his growls were not what he’d been raised to expect from a female. No matter how much they’d miscommunicated though, he felt no need to fight Bri for dominance. He viewed her strength like he viewed his own. It was necessary on this ship and a natural part of her nature as well.

He shrugged again when Maslin continued to stare. Instinct warned him not to reveal too much until the girl came to her senses. “I like Bri fierce. Change her, I would not.”

Maslin rolled her eyes. “Yes. You said that already. I’m getting tired of hearing how wonderful she is.”

“Everyone on ship knows but you. I speak until you hear.”

Darcone smiled at the disgusted grunt his clone made… or at least he gave her what passed on his planet for a pleasant facial expression. Humans had a lot more emotions to express and they preferred to do it with their faces. He found making facial expressions very tiring at times, but not when he was with Bri. For her—for Bri, he tried to be present and engaged enough in her company to communicate how much he valued her.

Darcone stood and bowed his head to Maslin. “Family, you are to me. Welcome here, you are. I make sure you have what you need.”

Maslin lowered her gaze. Family? What was that like? “I am… grateful. And your speech is much better.”

“Thank you,” Darcone said. He tilted his head to the door. “I must go now. Do not anger guard. Toorg fierce too.”

“I’ll behave,” Maslin said, holding up her bracelets. “I’m not stupid.”

“Of course not,” Darcone said, growling at the idea. “You made from me.”

The laughter broke out of her despite the fact that she was used to being punished for having such a human reaction. The alien glaring at her was more arrogant than any human male she’d met, even those who considered themselves in charge of all they saw. But she liked that about Darcone. He seemed to use it wisely.

“So being made from your DNA makes me automatically smart?” she asked, baiting him to see what he’d say.

Darcone nodded. “Yes. Believe this, I do.”

“Okay, Yoda. Whatever you say, I’ll believe.”

“Yoda?” Darcone growled and narrowed his gaze. “Is this respectful term?”

Maslin smiled at the nearly perfect way he’d phrased his question and nodded without fear. “The most respected,” she said, guessing the literal alien had probably never watched a vid for entertainment in his life. “Yoda was the name of my favorite teacher.”

Darcone relaxed. “Teacher okay. One day—Father.”

“Well, that’s certainly putting your true feelings out there,” Maslin exclaimed to cover her shock. “I should warn you parents are only a concept to me. I had caregivers who didn’t care if I lived or died. They called me ‘home-grown alien’ and kept their distance.”

Darcone shrugged. “Family is natural order. Fight it not work. Go now I must…” He growled at her short laugh. “I must go now.”

Maslin nodded as the alien claiming to be her male parent strode to the door without looking back again. Then she was alone once more. “I was trained to kill, not to ponder people’s intentions,” she said aloud just to hear the words.

Rising, she gathered the remains of their dinner and loaded the dishes back on the cart. If Darcone had the level of intelligence he thought, he would be spending the night with his well-respected Commander.

* * *

Bri ate the dinner that magically showed up at the appropriate time. Apparently, a perk of being Commander was instant food service without the need to order it. She answered the door herself and brought in the cart. After the sketchy lunch she’d consumed before her four-hour nap, the hot food was welcome even if it still lacked in flavor.

She pushed the cart back out into the hallway and found Toorg there with a metal storage container in his hand.

“I am Toorg,” he said.

“Hi, Toorg. I’ve reassigned my guards to other duties. You don’t have to stand outside my door all night anymore.”

“No,” he said, forcing out the word. He held out what he’d brought. “I am Toorg.”

“Oh,” Bri said, chuckling. “You have a delivery for me.”

Instead of saying anything, Toorg simply nodded.

“Thank you,” Bri said, smiling. She smiled wider when she was rewarded with a smile in return. Toorg’s friendliness partially helped rid her of her shitty day. “Guess I better see what it is.”

Toorg lifted a hand in farewell before striding off.

Bri set the container on the table and pressed the auto open. The four parts of the cover retracted to reveal multiple pieces of fabrics inside. The kilt makers were quickly becoming her favorite males on the ship.

She lifted the folded shimmering blue on top and it fell into a waterfall of something light and smooth to the floor. She held the sheath to the front of her. It was a perfect fit for her height. Those clever guys had obviously made it from the measurements they’d taken. The front was an alternate of smooth fabric and sheer inserts in interesting places. It was very likely the most beautiful dress she’d ever owned.

Next in the box were several pairs of what appeared to be a woman’s cut of the uniform pants the crew wore. On closer inspection, she saw her custom made pants had hidden pockets and storage throughout them. Laughing at the kilt makers and their cleverness, she set the pants on the table and lifted a jacket from the box. It was just like the one they’d given her before, only in a subtle color that would blend well with her MacNamara sash. Below it in the box was yet another in a different coordinating shade. How had they gotten them delivered to the airship so quickly? Now she had a total of three fantastic uniform coats.

Walking to her coat rack on the wall, she hung the precious jackets next to each other. This was an incredible end to a terrible day. Picking up the blue dress and her new pants, she carried them into her bedroom to store them away.

* * *

Darcone had stopped by Medical, but the one he searched for was no longer there. He went to the alien common area. All talking ceased as he walked inside. The one he sought sat at a table surrounded by several others. Knowing it was best to get this over with as soon as possible, he walked to the table and stared down at the man he’d nearly killed.

“Sorry, I am,” he said. Then bowing his head. “Wrong I was to attack. Clone is like child to me.”

“Child?” his young victim asked, stunned by the news. “Surprising news.”

Darcone nodded. “Yes. Made by bad humans. Mine now. Raise her, I must.”

“Is she as dangerous as you are?” the one Angus named Seltz asked.

He could have told them no and left them to find out for themselves. That wouldn’t have made Bri happy with him and might get his clone locked back up in the holding cells. He didn’t need more problems. He was having enough trouble trying to learn to speak more clearly. Erin was supposed to be teaching him, but the Matchmakers had yet to return.

“Clone deadly—trained by Yoda. No meet her eyes—very bad thing,” Darcone told him.

They all nodded gravely in reply.

“And what is your connection to the Matchmaker’s daughter?”

Darcone growled. “More than that, she is. Commander of ship,” he said, keeping his voice low and menacing.

Seltz nodded. “We know. Most respect her. All admire her. But is she your woman or not?”

Darcone growled again. “Yes. She is mine. My woman. Also Commander. Both, she is.”

“Very well,” Seltz said, smiling. “We just wanted to be clear on the matter. Several consider her worthy as a bride. She will breed fierce warriors for some lucky male.”

Darcone felt a red haze drop over his eyes. Bri would breed with no one but him. His growl was lower than before when he glared at the men. They stood and backed into the wall near the table.

“Peace, Darcone. We are unarmed,” Seltz reminded him.

Darcone growled and glared at the all those assembled. He could and would kill the entire group if he didn’t calm himself soon. Women were a problem—always a problem. Now he could see why his brother had returned home. When a man got in his condition, he needed to claim a female and give it an outlet.

He lifted his chin and growled loudly enough to send a few running. “Commander is my woman. Understand, you must. Nod heads.”

Darcone watched until everyone left in the room with him nodded. Still fuming, he turned on his heel. Then he remembered the other thing he’d come for. His growl this time was one of frustration.

His gaze swung back to Seltz who swallowed hard. “Bride manual, I need. Where I get?”

Not saying a word, Seltz held up a finger and lifted his portable com from the table. Swiping a few times, he finally raised his gaze. “I have sent it to you.”

Darcone snarled but nodded. “Thank you.”

Seltz pounded his chest with a fist. “Alien brothers, we are. I am happy to serve.”

Darcone pounded his chest and nodded. His humiliation was now complete, but he’d kill the first male who commented on any of what had just occurred.

Causing a death here would be a regretful act, but one guaranteed to achieve the peace he longed to find once more. One way or the other, he was going to start resolving all the drama in his life that seemed to suddenly be coming out of the very walls.