Waiting For Dawn

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WAITING FOR DAWN An Ellora’s Cave Publication, February 2005

Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc. 1337 Commerce Drive, #13 Stow,OH44224

ISBN MS Reader (LIT) ISBN # 1-4199-0147-8 Other available formats (no ISBNs are assigned): Adobe (PDF), Rocketbook (RB), Mobipocket (PRC) & HTML

WAITING FOR DAWN Copyright © 2005 LORIE O’CLARE

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book may not be reproduced in whole or in part without permission.

This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. They are productions of the authors’ imagination and used fictitiously.

Edited bySue-Ellen Gower. Cover art bySyneca. Warning:

The following material contains graphic sexual content meant for mature readers.Waiting For Dawnhas been rated E–rotic by a minimum of three independent reviewers.

Ellora’s Cave Publishing offers three levels of Romantica™ reading entertainment: S (S-ensuous), E (E-rotic), and X (X-treme).

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S-ensuouslove scenes are explicit and leave nothing to the imagination.

E-roticlove scenes are explicit, leave nothing to the imagination, and are high in volume per the overall word count. In addition, some E-rated titles might contain fantasy material that some readers find objectionable, such as bondage, submission, same sex encounters, forced seductions, and so forth. E-ratedtitles are the most graphic titles we carry; it is common, for instance, for an author to use words such as “fucking”, “cock”, “pussy”, and such within their work of literature.

X-tremetitles differ from E-rated titles only in plot premise and storylineexecution. Unlike E-rated titles, stories designated with the letter X tend to contain controversial subject matter not for the faint of heart. Sex Slaves: Waiting For Dawn Lorie O’Clare

Chapter One

The Whisky Room could be a good thing, and right now, Trent Dar thought it might be the best thing. Nothing had gone right today.CommandCenter dodged every argument he’d applied to stop the Poltar Leap. This wasn’t their fight. It wasn’t well planned. It lacked order. No one cared about the safety of his crew. None of the fucking officials who ran this project gave a rat’s ass whether any of them came back alive or not. Dealing with them all day had him wishing he hadn’t agreed to rejoin the Gren military. Life had been better when he decided what battles to fight. Stepping out of his glider onto the artificial surface of Molten, Poltar’s only moon, and its only remaining grasp at civilization, he pushed the button on his belt, adjusting the weight of his gravity shoes. The Whisky Room was housed in an isolated dome-shaped structure, common architecture on this moon where many Poltarians now lived after the Bortan had attacked. He stared at the large planet that hovered in the star-filled sky, blocking the view of most of the galaxy. In the morning he would tell his crew they were headed to the surface, entering the battle zone instead of going home. None of them would be pleased. Yeah. The Whisky Room was definitely the best thing. A few hallucinogens and his headaches wouldn’t matter, at least for the night. Maybe a piece of ass, or two. He deserved some downtime. Trent Dar had first learned of The Whisky Room during the war on his home planet, Greneen. Its reputation had spread across the Ryclox solar system during those days, and the place still held true to its

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name after all these years. With this new mission pending, thoughts of returning home anytime soon were out of the question. No matter. Nothing and no one waited for him there. But his crew—he hardened his insides, refusing to allow emotions he seldom used to surface. They were trained warriors. They would do as he said. Pushing the heavy door open to the club,Trent ascended the stairs, stopping at the top in the small foyer to endure the brief security clearance into the club. No criminals allowed. Plain and simple. The smallest mark on your record, and the doors wouldn’t open. Trentplaced his hand over the red glowing surface, the security panel humming to life. In the next second the metal doors in front of him slid open silently. He smiled, little more than a twitch of his lips. Molten’s security wasn’t good enough to penetrate through his shielded past. Heads turned immediately as he strolled into the dimly lit atmosphere. Couples leaned into each other on the booths along the wall, whispering over their drinks, their expressions worried when they looked at him. A local, dressed in the drab attire common to these people, leaned over the bar, grabbing the bartender’s attention and gesturing toward him. Trent Dar moved with confident laziness, his body relaxed although his senses were on alert. A man at the end of the bar moved in front of a scantily dressed cocktail waitress, glaring at him as ifTrent had just said something out of line. Their reaction to his presence wasn’t anything new. Trent Dar was a Gren. The entire solar system feared his people. He’d grown up with this reaction from strangers, people moving out of the way, huddling into corners and whispering. No one would approach him. No one would challenge him. His people were feared. Their militaristic nature and reputation for conquering anyone who challenged them, made his life simple. He could do what he wanted. No one would stand in his way. It would take little effort to change his attire, not wear the long, black cloak common to his people. He could remove his Greneen uniform, shield himself from the fear his image brought. But he would still be First Commander Trent Dar, high official of the first house of Dar. The simplest of clothing wouldn’t change the fact that he was a trained killer, a warrior seasoned and in his prime. He saw no reason to pretend to be something he wasn’t. Ignoring the man at the end of the bar,Trent strolled through the mingling crowd, many of the recently freed sex slaves from Poltar lingering naked, or in the thin material imported from the planet Benox, working the people surrounding him. None of them approached him. Not that he cared. The Poltarian sex slaves, from a planet recently destroyed in war, were small people, way too delicate to handle his sexual appetites. There were no Gren females in the place. He wouldn’t get laid tonight. Several females from Benox, their bodies highly adorned with the colorful tattoos those people were known for, moved away from their table at the sight of him. He silently thanked them, taking one of the still warm seats. He hadn’t been to The Whisky Room in quite a while, but the place hadn’t changed. A convenient hangout for all walks of life, provided you could get through the security clearance. The place still smelled of illegal activity and sex. Just because someone didn’t have a record, didn’t make them an upstanding

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citizen. All it meant was the people in there were smart enough not to get caught, or clever enough to cover their tracks if they had been caught. Activity toward the back of the establishment captured his attention. Tables were pushed up against each other, creating a stage-like setting. Men and women moved over each other on these tables, fucking and sucking, getting off being watched, or simply enjoying a willing pussy for the night. Many men and women came in here, escaping the orders laid on them with their work, just as he had. The Whisky Room offered entertainment for everyone, whether it be voyeurism, one-on-one sex, gangbangs, or simple flirtations. It was easy to put the day behind you when you entered into this place. After taking a minute to study the panel in front of him, he punched in his order for a stiff drink—he wouldn’t be flying anywhere tonight—and then relaxed in his seat. There was commotion around him. He didn’t care. The hour was late and many already felt the effects of the mind-altering drugs mixed in with the drinks. The rich smell of the smoke from maljuana drifted through the air. Smoking that drug made people stupid. He ignored its sweet odor, keeping his eye on two women kneeling on the table at the end of the dark room, both making a meal out of a man’s cock. An older cocktail waitress, seasoned at her job, with her ample breasts bulging forward, her nipples pierced with the trendy pale yellow Poltarian metal, brought him his drink. “Don’t know why she’d be interested but the lady at the bar asked if you’d like company.” She set the tall glass down in front of him, bending close enough that he could smell the cheap perfume she’d splashed over her full fleshy mounds. “You want her, Gren?” He didn’t bother to look up. The way she took her time straightening, she didn’t want him to look at her face anyway. Many women in the solar system found it exciting to risk their time with a Gren. But he wasn’t into hurting women. And the simple truth was most couldn’t endure the aggressiveness that got him off. “I’m in no mood for company.” He waved her away, returning his attention to the people fornicating on the tables. “Then why the fuck you in a bar?” she mumbled, walking away, leaving her sweet perfume lingering in the air around him. Trenttook a long swallow of the drink he’d ordered, allowing its fumes to go to his head, fog some of the frustration of his day. Taking another drink, he entertained the thought of getting good and drunk, allowing himself the luxury of forgetting about the pending mission, if even for a few hours. Maybe some of the former slaves in this place were trained to handle rough sex. He glanced around, taking in the women who weren’t tattooed—the easiest way to spot one of Poltar’s ex-slaves. “The waitress said you didn’t want company.” A female pulled him out of his thoughts. Trentwasn’t sure why he looked up, but he did. And for a moment, he wasn’t sure he could answer. Something stirred inside him, something carnal, an emotion that had hibernated for too long. The most captivating creature he’d ever laid eyes on stared down at him. Without a word, she pulled out the seat next to him and sat down.

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He didn’t speak but simply watched her movements. Dressed in black skin-tight leather, not from the Bosha herds off of Benox, but the softer, more durable leather from Greneen gave proof that she either had money, or knew someone who did. Taller than most women, she moved with grace, silently, simply staring at him for a moment, sizing him up before she slowly licked her lips. Everything inside him hardened to stone. “Well, I don’t give a rat’s ass what you want. You’re going to help me.” Trentraised an eyebrow, watching as she leaned forward and crossed her arms. “And how am I going to do that?” “You’re going to help me deliver a shipment.” Her lips were full and moist, barely moving when she spoke. Long hair, blacker than night, fanned her shoulders and fell over the rich curve of her breasts. Trentstraightened, needing to get away from this woman. He turned his attention back to the tables, several men having now singled out one lady, fucking her while her cries of passion were lost with the thumping music coming through the computer system. “I’m not for hire.”CommandCenter might beg to differ with that argument, another thought that didn’t appeal toTrent at the moment. “When you do the Poltar Leap in the morning…” she paused, grabbing his attention. She ran her tongue over her lips. “Drop this bag off anywhere over Grok.” She plopped a cloth bag down in front ofTrent , its contents making it bulge at the side. Without another word, she stood and walked away from his table, disappearing as she worked her way through those lingering around the bar. Trentneeded to go after her. No one, absolutely no one, knew about the Poltar Leap. The plan had been devised only hours ago. And he’d been present in the council room when the decision to send their fighters over the planet, attacking the few remaining colonies of Bortan, had been devised. They would fly low enough to do serious damage to the despicable race that had destroyed Poltar, but risk being shot down in the process. Not to mention, with such high speed and quick attack, more than likely more than a few Poltarians would perish with the maneuver. He glanced down at the cloth bag and then grabbed it, leaving the table to find the woman. Before he was in arm’s reach, an overweight merchant, one of the many Molten seemed to be known for, grabbed the woman by her shoulder.Trent fought the urge to remove the fat stubby fingers from the narrow curve of her arm. “Where is it?” the man hissed, forcibly turning the woman who almost towered over him. “You stole it, now give it back.” “They are already destroyed,” she hissed in the merchant’s face, suddenly looking quite capable of taking care of herself. She turned on the older man quickly, grabbing his meaty wrist with her hand when he tried to grab her cloth pack. Several strands of long black hair swayed over part of her face, the shadows accentuating her high cheekbones. But her dark eyes burned with a fireTrent noticed even in the dimly lit room. The

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woman had a temper, and wasn’t afraid to get mean when called for. He watched her, his insides burning with the desire to haul her off while the beautiful woman took on the angry merchant. “You didn’t destroy them. They are worth millions. A thief like you would be looking for a bidder. Give them back or you’ll pay more than your life is worth.” He poked a stubby finger into her face, veins protruding on his neck with his outrage. She didn’t hesitate but grabbed his finger, twisting it in her smaller hand. “You’re a fool. They are gone and there isn’t a damn thing you can do about it.” “What?” The hefty merchant exploded, lunging toward her. “Destroying those chips won’t stop the metamorphosis. The Bortan will evolve and nothing we can do will change that.” Several people around them stumbled, drinks suddenly spilling everywhere. The woman fell backward, although found her footing quickly and managed to slip out of the club amidst all of the confusion. Trentslipped out into the night after her. Chapter Two

Dawn Corl ran too fast in the artificial atmosphere. Her breath wouldn’t come to her, the sound of her heart pounding in her ears hitting her too hard to focus on her surroundings. But slowing down wasn’t an option. She’d just taken the biggest risk of her life, and it had worked. At least she was pretty sure it had worked. Sitting down with that Gren had almost fucked up everything. Her mind had quit working. She thought she’d been around enough Gren for a lifetime not to be affected by them. He’d had the black unblinking eyes, the rich shiny black hair, the serious expression so typical of Gren. All traits of that race that shouldn’t affect her. She’d spent her life among them. She hurried to her carrier, which would get her off of this moon. The sooner she put distance between herself and everything that had to do with this assignment, the better. And then maybe, finally, her father would accept her. Her lungs burned when she sucked in too much air. The sharp pain distracted her from dwelling on her bastard heritage, her family shunning her, her father’s sad eyes. There wasn’t time to dwell on that. It was bad enough that the Gren inside had imprinted his image on her mind’s eye. It was more than his impressive good looks. She knew who he was, knew of his rank, that he was of the first house of Dar. And she knew by the slight twitch in his jawbone when she mentioned knowing of the Poltarian leap that she’d struck a nerve. There was something else about him. Something dangerous that had excited her, made her wish she could have sat with him longer. She sighed, slowing her pace while working her way through parked carriers. There was no time to dwell on the Gren, or her father. Beyond a shadow of doubt, both would be furious if they learned of the other’s existence. Both would have something to say about the other, and how she was handling the mission. There was no time for any man’s temper. Every second mattered right now. Dawn slid her hand into her pants pocket and pulled out the flat card that unlocked her carrier. She didn’t look up when the door to The Whisky Club opened, its artificial light spreading across the dark

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surface of the moon. Shadows moved around her, but she forced herself not to pay attention to anyone else in the area. Just get the hell out of there. Strong fingers grabbed her shoulder. “Where are you going?” Dawn’s heart about exploded in her chest. Instinctively, she jerked her shoulder away, turning, ready to attack, when the Gren looked down at her. Suddenly her mouth was too dry to speak. She fought to control her nerves, running her tongue over her lips to moisten them. Those intense black eyes followed the small movement. “I’m leaving.” She turned from him, sliding the card into the carrier door so that it slid open. She jumped into the carrier and shoved the card into the ignition slot. The motor rumbled to life but the Gren had his hands on her before she could shut the door, pulling her back out of the carrier. He stuffed the bag of chips that she’d left with him into her hands. “You have explaining to do,” he told her, his voice offering no emotion—an annoying Gren characteristic. “Sorry, darling, but there is no time.” She used most of her strength trying to pull free of his grasp. Surprisingly, he didn’t fight to hold her to him, but instead pushed her back into the carrier. His strength sent her sliding over the driver’s seat. She found herself falling to the floor between her seat and the passenger seat when the Gren slid in, taking over the controls. “You are right about there being no time,” he said, and then quickly began pushing buttons on her control panel. “What are you doing?” she hissed, fighting to get to her knees. There was no way she could push him out of her carrier. He was a large man, even for a Gren. Although his expression was masked, the determination in his gaze captured her attention, giving her pause when she would have chewed his ass for treating her this way. “Programming your carrier to orbit the moon,” he said, without looking at her. “There isn’t a carrier out here that is slower than what you have here.” He pushed several more buttons and then climbed back out of her carrier, grabbing her by the arm and pulling her out too. Dawn found herself sliding over the seat and struggling to maintain her balance when her feet hit the uneven moon surface. The door to the carrier slid shut and the small spacecraft moved, taking to flight and leaving her behind. Her only means of getting off this forsaken moon had just left, unmanned, without her. Fury swarmed through her with the speed of a Gren storm. Dawn turned, swinging before she gave it a thought. Her fist hit hard chest muscle, solid, impenetrable. A sting rushed through her hand. “What have you done?” she almost whispered, her voice cracking from the emotion that was so un-Gren

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like. Her father would hate this trait in her. Her carrier quickly disappeared into the darkness of space. She glanced briefly at Poltar, the large planet that the moon they were on orbited, and then looked down. There was nothing worse than feeling stranded, alone, and with the enemy closing in. “There was no way you’d have escaped any of these carriers.” He looked over toward the Whisky Room and then grabbed her arm. They disappeared among a row of gliders and carriers, military-assigned and privately owned. Shouts could be heard coming nearer, more than likely the merchant searching for her. Other carriers started, motors roaring to life, and then taking off. Dawn’s heart pounded viciously in her chest, sweat making her clothes stick to her even though her outfit was designed to be climate-controlled. She didn’t have time to adjust the settings on her belt so she could cool off though. The Gren took long steps, pulling her along, moving too quickly for her to think of a good argument why he should let her go. An explosion above the moon shocked her. She dodged instinctively, raising her arm over her head while she looked up at the suddenly lit sky. “My carrier,” she guessed, watching the explosion of an aircraft shot out of the sky. “Which you were almost in,” the Gren answered, feeling the need to point out that he’d just saved her life. Several people approached them, and the Gren turned, pinning her next to one of the parked carriers. He grabbed her shoulder, forcing her to the ground. She went down on her knees, swallowing her protest when he pressed his body against her. Dawn found her face pressed against his crotch, the length of his cock apparent against her cheek. “It didn’t even make it past the artificial atmosphere of the dome,” someone said, the sound of their boots crunching on the ground as they approached. Dawn couldn’t see a thing. The Gren blocked her with his body and she was sure if anyone were to look it would appear she was giving the man a blowjob. Her mouth suddenly was way too wet. If she swallowed he would feel the movement against his cock, which wasn’t fully aroused, but if he was completely soft, then he was very well-endowed. She couldn’t remember herself ever being in a more compromising position. The only way she could keep her balance was to grab hold of his legs. Strong roped muscles made her fingers tingle as she touched his thighs, holding on to her balance while he continued to press his body against her. “She’s her father’s bastard. Dawn Corl is no fool. That Gren blood of hers makes her sneakier than the average Poltarian sex slave.” It was the merchant, and he’d just announced who she was. Dawn wondered what this Gren would do with that knowledge. It wouldn’t take too much for him to figure out that she was working under her family’s orders. She swallowed, feeling his cock shift when she moved her mouth. Her insides tightened, nerves mixing with sudden arousal. Now was not the time to feel anything toward this Gren. She knew nothing about him. His uniform showed his high rank, but that

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didn’t tell her a thing. Footsteps neared them and slowed. The Gren’s hands moved to her head, his fingers tangling through her hair, brushing it over her face. She didn’t dare move. “Keep on your way,” the Gren barked, a voice of authority. “You saw that girl escape in that carrier?” The foolish merchant ignored the order. “I wasn’t paying attention.” The Gren tightened his grip on her head, pushing his cock against her face. Dawn didn’t dare move. She held on to his legs, feeling his thigh muscles hard and powerful against her palms. Her heart did a rapid beat and the urge to swallow hit her again. If she moved her mouth she wondered if she would make him hard. What the fuck was she thinking? Her main reason for being on this moon was to get rid of the Bortan chips that were the prototype to allow the race to look human. Their destruction and assimilation had to be stopped. Eliminating those chips would set the vile race back decades with their advancement. She knew there were a few Bortan already who had mastered disguising their metal flesh with skin so they could move among the other races and not be detected. But with the successful removal of the computer chips that held the necessary programs to assimilate their appearance, the Bortan wouldn’t advance in that area. She had succeeded in her mission, and that was all that mattered. The next thing she had to figure out was how to get away from this Gren. “You do appear a bit busy.” The other man with the merchant chuckled. “Sorry to interrupt.” The Gren grunted, his grip tightening in her hair while he shifted his body, his cock growing, straining against his pants. His male scent rushed through her, a mixture of Greneen leather, soap, and something all man. Her heartbeat raced down through her, her pulse throbbing in her clit. She opened her mouth to suck in air, fill her lungs, clear her head. She was far from out of danger. Her lips moved over his cock. There was no way to stop the act, he had her face pinned so closely to him. The length of his cock nearly doubled in size. It hardened and bulged through his pants. A flush spread through her. Her pussy was suddenly more moist than her mouth. She hated the feelings that rushed through her, the urge to run her lips against his pants, feel his cock, learn its length. She was out of her mind! The Gren had the chips. He knew who she was now, what house she came from. He had the power to expose her, ruin her hard work, and here she was wondering what it would be like to suck his cock. As suddenly as he had pushed her to his knees, the Gren pulled her to her feet by her hair. For a minute her legs were wobbly. And all she could do was stare into those black eyes. She didn’t miss the lust that swarmed in his gaze while he looked down at her. Everything inside her stopped—her heart quit beating, she couldn’t breathe. All she could do was stare up at him, captivated by the aggression and passion that formed a hardness in his expression. His stare was the cold glare of a warrior though, trained and quite capable of killing without thought.

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One didn’t make rank of first commander without gaining a reputation for being merciless. She knew how the Gren worked. His hands were still in her hair, tangled through her black strands. He held her face, preventing her from looking away while he stared at her. She swore he tore through her thoughts. Running her tongue over her lips, she wished he would let her go, but at the same time wondered what it would be like to kiss him. This mission had made her insane. “You are Dawn Corl.” The way he said her name, letting the two words roll off his tongue as one, made her melt inside. “Yes,” she whispered, barely able to speak. “And you?” “Trent Dar.” His hands slid from her hair. He took his time touching her, stroking the side of her head with his hands before running his fingers over her shoulders. His touch was like electricity, sending her soul into flames. He turned her, keeping her close to him, and walked through the row of carriers until they reached a military-issue Gren glider. The insignia on the side showed his rank and the mark of his house. With a fluid movement he straddled the large machine and then pulled her to him, lifting her into the air and placing her on the seat in front of him. The way he manhandled her made it hard not to relax against his powerful chest. She hadn’t felt this aroused in a long time. His arms wrapped around her while he started the glider. The dome rose over them while the engine purred to life. He didn’t say a word, but took to flight. Dawn’s mind was racing.Trent Dar. She couldn’t believe it. His reputation went beyond that of a high-ranking Gren. He had helped keep the Bortan from taking over Benox. His military strategies were well-known and studied. She swallowed hard, all too aware of everywhere his large body touched her. But her mind swarmed with the possibilities so that she didn’t focus on where they were going. Trent Dar hated the Bortan. What an awesome weapon he would be toward her cause. But what would it take to get him to work with her. And could she control such a powerful Gren in order to get him to do her bidding. The thought of taking him on had her heart racing with anticipation. She was sure going to give it her all. Chapter Three

Trent Dar pulled up in front of Command Center. The outpost they had on this moon was small, but necessary as long as the Bortan were still on Poltar. He would be glad when, once and for all, the despicable half-man, half-machine race was confined to their own planet. Pulling to a stop, he took a moment to inhale Dawn Corl’s scent. There was something exotic about her, her long narrow figure, slight muscle tone. She showed all the signs of a renegade, taught to fight and

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carry out missions that the military wouldn’t touch. Under most circumstance he would send her on her way, not wasting time with a female who was more than likely more trouble than she was worth. “Where are we?” Dawn arched away from him, her instincts kicking in, breaking her from the fog of thoughts that had taken over. Something about sitting so close to Trent Dar made it real difficult to think straight. “This is the military command center,” she answered her own question. The dome slid over them and Dawn hopped off. Trent sensed her sudden nervousness. But it was this, or take her to his personal quarters. And being alone with her was probably not a good idea. Having her on her knees for that short time had sent a surge of need through him that still rumbled through his blood. There was no reason to keep her in the dark why she was here. “You’re going to explain how you knew of the Poltar Leap, a plan organized behind closed doors just earlier today.” “I don’t have time for this.” Dawn jumped off of the glider, hurrying away from him. “Thanks for saving my life.” Trent grabbed her before she made it past the scope of artificial light that beamed off the building. “You just made time,” he told her. The small muscles in her arm hardened under his touch. She turned on him, her silky black hair streaming over her shoulder while gray eyes looked up at him. The woman was only a few inches shorter than he was, as tall as a Gren female. And her black as night hair and noticeable strength gave indication she had Gren in her. But those gray eyes, pale like soft clouds that pooled with sensuality, made him think of anything other than interrogating her. She would be one hell of a wild fuck. “Fine. But information is a two-way street. I don’t owe you shit for arranging for my carrier to be blown out of the sky.” She moved forward, taking an aggressive turn and walking past him toward the entrance of Command Center. Letting him know she was in any way grateful for saving her life, and protecting her from that fat merchant, would be a sign of weakness. She wouldn’t let Trent Dar think that she needed him. He would be easier to convince him to help her with her cause if she showed him she was strong, organized, and capable of taking down the Bortan. Just thinking about them made her blood curdle. Trent let go of her arm, placing his hand on her back when they stopped in front of the main doors. He didn’t trust her not to turn and try to bolt again. Not that she would make it that far. And he would give her enough intelligence to know that she couldn’t get away from him. Running his hand under the scanner, he allowed the sensors to identify him. The electronic eye recognized his DNA pattern and unlocked the main door to the building. “I’m not asking for gratitude for saving your ass,” Trent told her while keeping his hand on her lower back, guiding her into the building. “You’ll tell me who told you about the Poltar Leap and then you can be on your way.” She didn’t respond but walked silently next to him, her expression blank and relaxed. It was hard to take his eyes off of her. Never had he met a woman with such compelling features. Her long black hair, falling past her shoulders, so soft and silky yet thick, perfect to run his fingers through and grab on to her.

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His cock shifted while he studied her, moving easily alongside her, studying this woman who had interrupted his evening. Her light gray eyes distracted him. She studied her surroundings as they moved down the hallway. He knew she digested all that she saw, took it to memory, searched for any information that would aid her in whatever mission she was intent on. “This way,” he said, guiding her when the hallway split. “I won’t put you in front of an interrogation team, unless you don’t cooperate.” There was fire in her gaze when she looked up at him. “I don’t take well to threats,” she told him, her voice a sultry whisper. “I have no intention of telling you a damned thing. You’re wasting your breath, Gren.” Dawn turned her attention back to where they were headed, taking in the insides of Command Center. This was a small outpost, but nonetheless, Gren headquarters. Never would she be part of the Gren military. She wasn’t purebred Gren, and her last name was a joke. If the House of Corl knew she used it, they would shun her once again. Well, maybe not her father…but his wife would enjoy shunning her until the day she died. “I don’t waste my time.” Trent Dar pulled her out of her thoughts, stopping in the hallway and pressing his hand against the lock to one of the doors. It slid open silently, a dark office looming in front of her. His hand branded her back, sending fire rushing through her and making it more than a little difficult to concentrate. Such a powerful man, with so much rank and clout, he could do anything he wanted, and the thought had her entire body tingling. “This is your office?” She had to stay cool. If he saw her hesitate, knew for a moment how much he distracted her, she would lose control of the situation—not that she had that much control to start with. Trent let his gaze travel down Dawn as she walked into his office. He pressed the button on the wall, illuminating the room with light. “For now,” he said, distracted with the sway of her hips, the way the black leather pants displayed her long, willowy figure. It would take such little effort to force her onto his desk, rid her of her clothes, and bury himself deep inside her. He inhaled slowly, knowing what mattered most was to find out if his mission had been jeopardized. “Tell me how you know of the Poltar Leap.” He moved in closer to her, his blood pounding in his ears when she didn’t back away from him, showed no signs of submission. She was ready to take him on. Crossing her arms, glaring at him with near boredom, she shook her head slowly. “Just like that. Give you names and I’m on my way.” She chuckled, amusement making her gray eyes glisten. “And what if there are no names to offer? What if I work by myself?” “Then say so and explain how you gained the knowledge.” He moved even closer until he stood within inches of her, staring at her with those powerful-looking, non-blinking black eyes. “I say so.” She didn’t dare look down, doing her best to match his stare, use her Gren blood, and keep her expression masked. “I learned of your mission by myself.” There was no way she would reveal her partners to him. They trusted her, relied on her for protection. Each of them, working underground and navigating their way around the careful eye of Command

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Center, had bound them to each other. Revealing one name would reveal them all. Nothing would make her jeopardize all the work they’d done. Without them, the Bortan would win and take over the solar system. Trent Dar watched her long eyelashes finally flutter over her soft gray eyes. She was lying, willing to take him on to protect those she worked with. If there was a leak within Command Center, which wouldn’t surprise him, he would learn who it was. “You’re a fool,” he told her. “And a liar.” He moved quickly, grabbing her by her arms and lifting her high enough to turn her around. Tossing her onto his desk, he pinned her quickly before she could turn and attack. He pressed his hand hard against her back, swatting her adorable ass when she struck out with her long legs. “Shit!” she cried out, more stunned than hurt that he had just spanked her. For a moment she couldn’t think, the quick sting rushing through her like a bolt of electricity. Fire burned in her cheeks. But the humiliation was underplayed by the flush of heat that flooded her system, making her pussy throb. His brute strength turned her on more than she ever would have imagined such an act doing. No man had ever rendered her helpless—and this Gren wouldn’t do it now. Dawn squirmed underneath his grasp, fighting to free herself until he lowered his body over hers. Rock-hard chest muscles brushed over the side of her back when he brought his face dangerously near hers. It was all she could do to breathe as she stared into those impenetrable black eyes. “Who was it who overheard that meeting today?” he asked, his voice a dangerous whisper. “I did,” she told him, realizing he could sense her lying, so giving him the simple truth. She jeopardized no one but herself. “I was in this building today and listened while the plans were made.” For a moment his body relaxed. He digested what she just told him, his gaze not faltering although his grip slackened. She didn’t miss the opportunity. Bucking, she kicked him hard in the leg with the back of her boot. There would only be a second to react. Trent Dar adjusted his grip on her, but she had enough time to turn around, striking out with her fist, aiming for his face. Fire burned in those black eyes, the only indication she would get that kicking him had affected him. He grabbed her fist before she could hit him and flung her across the room. She hit the wall hard, the breath flying out of her lungs from the impact. All she could do was turn before once again he’d pinned her, this time with his body pressing against hers with her back up against the wall. “So you like it rough, do you?” he hissed, his tone so dangerous her heart missed a beat. She forgot to breathe, the thought hitting her at that moment that being alone with this Gren might be more dangerous and life-threatening than being stuck in a room full of Bortan. Slowly she exhaled, but her heart raced so hard that she sucked in another breath. “Whatever it takes,” she told him, knowing she would risk more if she showed signs of defeat, than if she stood up to him.

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One of his legs pressed between hers, rubbing against the heat that already burned between her legs. He reached for one of her wrists, and then the other, and then pinned her hands against the wall on either side of her head. Leaning into her, his face inches above hers, his body pressed hard against hers. His cock had hardened into a rod of steel, grinding into her hipbone. Dawn couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. Trent Dar was more dangerous as a man than any weapon he might harbor. “I’m not sure you could handle what it might take.” “And I doubt you would dare to try,” she taunted him. There wasn’t anything else she could do with his body holding her prisoner against the wall. Not to mention the fire he’d ignited inside her. It was probably a damned good thing he’d immobilized her. The urge to lean into him, taste him, devour that carnal power that radiated from him, consumed her. “Don’t ever doubt me,” he said and leaned his head down, sucking in her lower lip before he kissed her. A gasp escaped her, everything about her softening for the briefest of moments when he tasted her. She wasn’t full-blooded Gren. Her urge to submit, to give him her body, made his cock throb with a fierceness no other woman had brought forth in him. Yet she wasn’t exactly submitting. Her hands relaxed against his, her wrists sliding down slightly under his grasp. When she opened her mouth, her tongue meeting his, he realized the submissive side of her had disappeared. She did her best to lean into him, pressing her breasts against his chest, making him ache to rip her clothes from her body, explore what treasures she had. With a small cry she turned her head from him, panting while her chest heaved up and down, her firm breasts smashed against him. He ached to run his hands down her arms, cup those breasts, knead them and feel their fullness. “Submission is wrong,” she breathed. He watched her, his intake of breath almost as sharp as hers. Ghosts surfaced, her private demons warring within her while emotion swirled in her beautiful gray eyes. Dawn turned on him, pushing hard. He took a step backward, which surprised her. She ignored the wave of disappointment that he didn’t demand more of her. “Entering a building without consent in order to spy is also wrong,” he told her, his voice deepening when he added, “and a crime.” “Which is why I wouldn’t have sent anyone else to do it,” she answered honestly. Her breathing had slowed although the slow rise and fall of her breasts still proved a distraction. Her black outfit hugged every curve, displaying her sensuality. But there was still plenty left to the imagination, and that distracted him. Focusing on her willfulness, on the stubborn tilt of her head, on the passionate glow in her gray eyes, didn’t help him keep his mind where it should be. This woman had committed a crime and confessed to it. What he should do right now was press charges against her and be done with her.

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“And why did you need to know what Command Center had planned?” he asked instead, knowing the only reason she would have eavesdropped on the meeting would be to gather that information. The sudden beeping of his computer on his desk grabbed his attention. Reaching for Dawn, taking her arm, he pulled her around his desk and plopped her in the one chair his office housed. Trapping her with his body, he turned the screen so he could accept the transmission coming in. For something to be arriving this late in the evening, he doubted the message carried good news. The Greneen symbol, an image of his home world with the black background, appeared on his screen. Dawn Corl leaned forward, attempting to look around him to see what it said. “You know this is confidential,” he said, turning the screen away from her. “So was the Poltar Leap,” she reminded him, showing her lack of remorse at breaking the law. He ran his fingers over the flat keyboard, accepting the transmission and quickly changing it to print instead of audio. The message appeared in white letters in front of him. “What is this?” he said out loud, although speaking to himself. “What is it?” Dawn stood, again trying to see around him. Tar-Kah, the elite investigative branch of Gren had sent the message. A warning had just been sent to them that the known fugitive, a Poltarian who had Greneen in her, had just stolen Bortan computer software. The Bortan officials demanded the return of their goods, the programs being housed in small chips. Failure to return the chips would result in the Bortan authorizing a full-scale search. The fugitive was believed to last be seen on Molten. Another message followed, this one a personal message from the Tar-Kah asking Trent Dar to put his best men on this assignment and find the woman as quickly and quietly as possible. An image of Dawn Corl appeared on the screen in front of him. Trent glanced at it briefly and then turned to stare into those soft gray eyes, full of questions. The message referred to her as Poltarian, which explained the gray eyes, yet she carried the house of Corl in her name, and looked very Greneen to him. The words of the merchant, who’d searched for her earlier, came to mind. Dawn Corl had a hell of a lot of explaining to do. Chapter Four

“What is it?” Dawn asked again, sudden trepidation washing through her. Trent Dar’s expression had hardened. Whatever his screen had shown him didn’t appeal to him at all. Instead of showing her he shut the system down, collapsing the screen and then moving around the desk. “Let’s go,” he said, offering no explanation. She followed him. Like there were any other options. What could she do? Refuse to leave with him and stay in his office? Getting out of Command Center sounded damned good to her. She’d spent enough

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time incognito in this place earlier today, tapping into their computers while posing as a low-ranking Greneen. It wasn’t the first time she’d donned a uniform that would never be hers, and managed her way around the Greneen military. Trent led the way into the hall, glancing quickly to ensure no one was around. For whatever reason, he wanted to hear her story before he blindly turned her over to the officials. Already he had enough on her to lock her up. But he told himself that it had nothing to do with her alluring manner, the softness of her mouth, the way she’d kissed him. Curiosity bested him, and he knew his instincts seldom let him down. A large part of this story was a mystery. And he would be damned if he would turn this woman over to the Bortan before knowing exactly what was going on. Their shoes clicked against the hard tiled floor, offering the only noise to break the silence that otherwise loomed around them. Something in the Gren had changed, an urgency now surrounding him where before he had seemed relaxed and confident. Dawn felt the odd sensation of walking alongside her commanding officer, having just received new orders that were of extreme importance. The only problem was that she didn’t have a clue what they were. This time when they reached the branching of the hallway, he paused. She almost questioned him, wanting to know more about the transmission he’d received, sensing a pending doom surround her and wanting to believe she was safe by his side. Trent held up his hand, silencing her when she would have spoken. The smallest of gestures, yet surrounded by an authority she found herself not questioning. She had no reason to trust him. She reminded herself of that simple fact. All she had wanted from him was an assured disposal of the Bortan chips. That was it. Beyond that she had no use for him. She repeated that like a mantra while standing silently next to him, listening to the faint noises in the quiet building. Without warning, Trent turned around, placing his hand on her arm, and escorting her back the way they’d come. She glanced at him when he slipped a comm out of his shirt pocket and wrapped it around his ear, adjusting the mouthpiece. “Creen,” he said quietly into his comm. “Go to the back side of Command Center. I’ll explain later. Meet me there now.” He hurried his step, moving her alongside him fast enough that even with her long legs, she worked to match his pace. They reached an unmarked exit and Trent ran his hand over the panel, unlocking the door without alerting the alarm. Stepping outside, the glow from the large planet looming over them in the sky, offering the only light, long shadows offered an eerie sensation. Dawn almost jumped when a glider came around the corner, slowing to a stop when it neared them. A young Greneen, his black eyes large in the dark as he appraised her, lifted the dome of his glider, glancing from her to his superior officer. “Take her to my place. Don’t speak to anyone, not even her. Then leave and forget you saw her.” Trent Dar spoke with such authority it didn’t surprise Dawn when the young soldier nodded solemnly, scooting forward to allow her space behind him on the glider. “Your place?” she asked, questioning him.

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“You won’t make it five minutes anywhere else on this manmade rock.” His words were harsh, leaving no room for argument. And argue was exactly what she wanted to do. No one told her what to do. She hadn’t made it as far as she had trusting that many people. Life had taught her that the only person she could trust was herself. Trent Dar turned, not expecting his command to be questioned, and disappeared back inside the building, the door shutting silently behind him. Left alone at the mercy of this young Greneen, she had no carrier, no way of escaping on her own. Maybe Trent Dar owed her just a bit of sanctuary, if that indeed was what he was offering. Silently she boarded the glider, holding on to the seat behind her as the dome lowered over the two of them, and the soldier, Creen, accelerated until the glider left the ground, following instructions and not saying a word to her. Minutes later, Trent Dar moved with his usual calm manner through the building, leaving it like he would any other night. Except he’d already left the place once already that evening. No one questioned him, the guards on duty barely glancing his way when he made sure he walked where they would see him. His thoughts were grossly distracted by Dawn Corl. Who was she? What was in the stuffed bag of computer chips that he still carried on him? Realizing harboring them made him an accomplice to her crime, and realizing further that she had intended to lure him into her sordid plot when dropping them at his table earlier, he was intent on learning more about her. But that couldn’t be done at Command Center. He needed a computer that wasn’t monitored. It would take time to research this puzzle, and he didn’t want to worry about explaining his actions. And during the time it took to ensure he had all the answers he needed to satisfy him, Dawn Corl would stay put, waiting for him to determine what he would do with her. Unfortunately, right now, what distracted him more than learning her plot, was learning her body. Kissing her had stirred something in him that had long been asleep. Mission after mission had kept his mind off women, had kept him sane. Until now. Now not knowing more about Dawn Corl would make him insane. She would explain herself to his satisfaction. There would be no question on that matter. He wasn’t surprised to see there were no lights on when he pulled up in front of his assigned quarters. Rows of Gren housing, compliments of Command Center, lined the narrow street on the far side of the moon. This was a smaller dome than the other artificial domes on the manmade surface. Dim light and a thinner atmosphere made the area appear like their home planet. Ever since Greneen military moved in to keep the Bortan from taking over Poltar, this small, domed area had been deemed Gren Town. The place looked nothing like home. Parking his glider, he eased off and sauntered toward his home. Dawn Corl was nowhere in sight. And at this hour, no one else appeared to be on the quiet street. Gren retired early, a people accustomed to keeping to themselves. He placed his hand on the panel next to his door, allowing the scanner to acknowledge his DNA, and then stared into the darkness of his home after the door slid open. She shouldn’t have been able to get in without him. Something told him he shouldn’t underestimate her, though. Tingles raced down his spine, his senses moving into high gear when he walked into his quiet home. Nothing was out of place. But she was in here. He didn’t see her—saw no sign of her—but something told him she hadn’t waited outside for him. And he gave her enough credit to not run off once dropped off at his house.

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The slightest movement of shadows grabbed his attention, and he turned, pulling his laser at the same time. He stared into the soft gray eyes of Dawn Corl. “Would you kill a Gren in cold blood?” she asked, her voice a sultry whisper. “Some would say you are Poltarian,” he responded, lowering his small handheld weapon so that he focused on her neck instead of between her eyes. “Some would,” she shrugged, not denying or confirming a thing. “Yet you call yourself Gren.” If she used the Corl name without cause, he could arrest her for forgery alone. Gren law was clear. “I am Dawn Corl. That isn’t a lie.” She met his gaze, those pools of gray not wavering. She either spoke the truth, or was a damned good liar. He had the inclination to believe her, but didn’t doubt her ability to lie. “I assume you have repaired any damage you did to my home in order to get in here.” Asking how she got into his home would have done no good. He doubted she would have told him. The corner of her mouth lifted in a half smile at his comment. She turned away from his weapon, ignoring it, and walked into the darkness. He followed her, sheathing his laser in the small leather clasp that hooked to his belt. Her boots tapped on the tile in his kitchen when she walked through it. “I was almost done,” she said, her back still to him, as she picked up the cover to the panel housed in the wall next to his back door. He walked up behind her, looking over her shoulder, impressed more than angry that she had dismantled the security system to his house, let herself in, and almost had it put back together in such a short time. “You have the skills of a criminal,” he whispered, fighting the urge to run his hands over her shoulders. She turned on him, the flash of anger in her eyes noticeable even in the dark. “I have the skills of a survivor,” she hissed. “I am no criminal.” She turned back around just as quickly, her long black hair fanning down her back. He took a step back, more to admire the view of her backside, than to allow her room to finish. So tall and muscular, not overly done, shapely, a perfect woman. The way her black leather pants hugged her ass, accentuating her firm curves made his cock dance to life. He growled in spite of himself, not feeling too comfortable with the thought that she could make him prance to life and he seemed unable to control it. Reaching to turn on the light, he noticed then the black bag laid open on his counter. A variety of tools, all Gren, lay spread out. Dawn finished her task and placed the tool in her hand with the others. “It will work as it did before now,” she said, not looking up, but carefully wrapping the tools back up in the black bag then sliding them into her knapsack.

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There was no reason to make issue of the quality of the military security system. Too many other things demanded immediate attention—and clarification. “Come with me,” he instructed, leaving the kitchen where he spent such little time anyway. If it bothered her that he led her to his bedroom, she gave no indication. He tapped the small lamp that offered the only light in the room, and entered as shadows cast across the walls. Dawn entered behind him, taking in the simple yet elegant living quarters where the first commander slept at night. Glancing at his bed, she wondered how many women he’d fucked in it. Trent Dar didn’t look like the kind of man who would bring home any of the women she’d seen earlier in The Whisky Club. The bed was large, a dark mahogany bedspread stretched taut over it. The rest of the room was just as neat and orderly. On second glance, she wondered how much time he spent in the room. Everything was in such perfect order. He moved around a solid wood desk. She ran her fingers over it, recognizing the military-issue furniture. The simple dresser, the bed frame—all of it Gren and functional. This desk, however, was more elegant, solid wood she guessed had been imported from Benox judging by its slightly darker texture than the rest of the furniture. Trent tapped a button panel and a keyboard slid out from under a hidden panel while a monitor rose in front of them. He removed a small disk from his coat pocket and inserted it in the computer. In the next instant she stared at a picture of herself with a top priority message from Greneen. He had been ordered to search her out. The Bortan were searching for her and wanted her turned over immediately for theft of their computer chips. She sucked in her breath, afraid to think why he had just shown her this. Chapter Five

Trent removed the bag of computer chips she had dropped on his table earlier that night. He watched closely while the color faded from her face, her gray eyes growing pale while she nibbled on her lower lips. “Explain to me why I shouldn’t turn you in.” Deep inside, he hoped it would be a damned good explanation. Dawn dared to look into those black non-blinking eyes. Hair darker than a night sky bordered his hard features. So tall, so powerful-looking, so dominating. It was hard to think straight and stare into such raw power. She puckered her lips, sucking in a breath, and forced herself to turn away from him. It wasn’t possible to stare at the official Gren message either. Desperation saturated through her when she realized her father might already know the Bortan sought her out. She couldn’t handle thinking how that would humiliate him. Too often he’d supported her, coming to see her and her mother while she was growing up. All she wanted was for him to see that his blood ran thick through her. “Do as I asked. Drop the chips over Grok tomorrow. After that, turn me in if you wish. There is no reason for you to know anything that would dishonor you.” And if all went well, she would be long gone

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before he returned from the mission. “I will decide what I know and don’t know.” He took a step toward her, watching her gray eyes open wide when she stepped backward. He didn’t think she made the move consciously. The moment of surprise on her face that he would confront her passed. She narrowed her gaze on him, parting her lips as if to respond. But a small beeping, a comm in her pocket, stopped her. She looked down quickly, her black hair gliding over her shoulders, partially covering her face. “Answer it,” he told her, guessing she would try and ignore the call in his presence. It didn’t surprise him that she would have alliances. Who they were, and where they were would be very handy to know. She grunted, grabbing the comm out of her pocket and hastily put it around her ear. “Yes,” she said simply. Trent moved quickly, opening one of the drawers of his desk and grabbing the small speaker wire. He took her arm before she could stop him, and clamped the device to her comm, allowing him to hear the conversation too. “Were you successful?” a male voice asked. “That’s yet to be determined.” She glared at him, her lips pursed in anger while she struggled to free her arm. “I can’t talk right now.” He gave her arm a small shake, pulling her closer to him. Her free hand pressed against his chest while she maintained her footing so she wouldn’t collapse into him. She continued to look up at him, her eyes wide and on fire, like an animal caught in a trap. His entire body hardened, the predator surfacing, aggressive emotions stirring that urged him to force her to talk, communicate with her accomplice, shed some light on this mission of hers. “What’s wrong?” The male voice quivered, weakness, not the sign of a warrior. “We can’t continue this orbit for much longer. We’ll be detected. What should we do?” Dawn squeezed her eyes shut, exhaling, her frustration apparent. Whoever she worked with didn’t possess half of her strength. And they were in a ship. “Give me five minutes and I’ll be back with you.” Her body relaxed, her hand sliding slightly down his chest. She didn’t look up at him though, but lowered her tone instead. “And don’t worry. You’ll be okay.” The transmission ended and she reached up, pulling the comm from her ear. “Where is your ship?” Trent asked her, in no hurry to let her go. He moved his hand from her arm to the middle of her back, holding her to him. With his other hand, he cupped her chin, tilting her head back until she looked up at him. “In orbit around Molten. I was supposed to join them when you arranged for my carrier to be shot out of the air.” Her tongue moved slowly over her lips, and she watched him follow the action, relaxing

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further, knowing she didn’t have his strength, and seducing him at this point might be her only way out of this mess. “If our mission isn’t successful, the Bortan will take over Poltar. If you die during the Poltar Leap tomorrow then we will all die. We’re relying on you. Only you can save Poltar.” Trent ignored her babble, knowing she put on an act trying to distract his aggression. Playing submissive or helpless wasn’t something she did very well. He’d seen that about her already. “All ships orbiting the moon are monitored. How is your ship not detected?” “I’m sure it’s detected.” She shrugged, forgetting her helpless routine for the moment. Her body straightened, the knowing look in her soft gray eyes more alluring than when she’d batted them suggestively at him a moment ago. “Your sensors would see it as a Gren merchant ship and not give it a second look.” Trent nodded. She was right. Ships from Greneen brought supplies in daily. As long as the ship showed a proper license, Command Center wouldn’t question the orbit. He still didn’t let go of her, though. Rubbing his thumb along her jawbone, he watched her watch him, try to figure him out, determine her best move of attack. He enjoyed seeing her mind at play through those eyes of hers. Intelligent and clever, and beautiful. She was getting to him. If he let her see that, she might win at whatever plot she’d set out to devise. “And these computer chips? What are they?” His questions brought her hesitation. Dawn was drowning in those deep black eyes. He wouldn’t let her go though. And he held her so damned close to that virile body of his that it was getting harder and harder to concentrate. More than anything she wanted to relax against him, reach up and run her fingers through that black, straight hair of his. The way it bordered his face, his dark eyes penetrating her, a fire had ignited watching him. Her insides simmered with desire, an ache to submit, the weaker side of her already burning with a passion to be taken. He misread her hesitation. “You aren’t in a position to not trust me,” he told her, taking a firmer grip on her chin. “You have people on that ship who are waiting on you. Answer my questions or you won’t be contacting them again anytime soon.” She sucked in a breath, parting her lips, her breasts swelling against her shirt at the way he handled her. His seduction methods would have her in trouble. For some reason, she doubted his threats. He wasn’t going to hurt her. And she had an odd feeling that he wouldn’t turn her in. But what he would do, what he was capable of, she had yet to ascertain. And she wouldn’t make the mistake of guessing. Dawn decided to take a leap of faith. Having Trent Dar as an ally, if nothing else, and she wouldn’t deny the images in her mind of making him a lover, could prove invaluable. “The Bortan have invented a program that will allow them to grow skin, human skin. Implanting those chips into their cyberbrains will allow them to appear human. No longer would we be able to distinguish Bortan by their metallic bodies. They would be able to hide themselves in our cultures.” Trent let go of her, turning and leaving the bedroom. His touch had branded her chin, and she still felt his fingers there. Without thought, she ran her knuckles against her skin, feeling where his hand had just been. In that time he returned with the bag of computer chips that had been left in his kitchen. Sitting down at his desk, he opened the bag and pulled out several, studying them while they glistened in his hand under the lamplight.

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“How did you discover this? I’ve heard nothing to the effect.” He didn’t look up, his broad shoulders stretching his shirt while corded muscles pressed against the fabric that stretched over shoulder blades and his broad back. She enjoyed watching him devour the information, believing her, not questioning the validity of her statement but only where she’d gathered the information. She moved closer, leaning against the desk while she watched him. “When the Bortan attacked Poltar, I was on their ship when they returned to their home planet, Bort.” Trent stole his gaze from the chips. He looked up into her face, noting that she watched him intently. He wondered at her words. Very few went to Bort and left not assimilated into one of the half-man, half-machine race. The Bortan didn’t take prisoners. Dawn definitely had Gren in her. The transmission he’d been sent called her Poltarian. He saw no signs of Bortan in her. The mystery around her deepened in its own fog. “Go on.” Let her talk herself out of her own mystery. He let his gaze travel down her thick black hair to her full ripe breasts. “Explain how you’re standing here in front of me with these Bortan chips.” “I faked my own death, at least temporarily,” she said, sounding proud of the fact. “I never left their ship, but heard discussion of this prototype Bortan who could pass as human, move among the other races, assimilate without being noticed. When the Gren attacked the ship, they took me with them. I managed to take these with me before leaving the Bortan ship. But I doubted anyone would believe me. Not even my father…” She stopped then, turning from him and walking across the room. She rubbed her face, looking down for a moment as if stifling ghosts she would rather him not see. Trent stood, not sure what she hid from him, but knowing she planned to keep some of the truth from him. For now, he would allow her those secrets. She would share everything in time. Tonight, what he needed to know, was if any of this would affect the Poltar Leap. After his mission, he could take on the rest and make decisions at that time. Trent stood, unable to keep his distance. For the moment, her defenses were down. Mentioning her father was her own demise. He could only guess the reasons why but didn’t dwell on that at the moment. Placing his hands on her shoulders, he turned her around slowly. There was an unmistakable sadness in her eyes when she looked up at him. It disappeared quickly, her confident defiance returning. “The chips will not be destroyed,” he began. “Yes. They will.” She shrugged his hands off of her shoulders, putting her own hands on her hips and glaring at him. “They can not continue to exist. You will release them with your bombs tomorrow during your mission.” He almost smiled at her nerve of telling him what to do. “These are the chips that would actually be installed in the Bortan.” She nodded but he continued. “And therefore the formula to create the chips…” She pushed around him, speaking quickly. “It’s on one of these chips. I took all of them. I’m sure that is

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why the Bortan dared to contact the Gren. You know they’re scared of you, they would never take on the Gren.” “Never say never,” he said, again coming up behind her. Her enthusiasm, the fire that burned in her to right a wrong, take down the Bortan, excited him as much as her beauty. She turned around, her long hair flying over her shoulder. But then leaned back against his desk when she realized how close she was. Her gaze hurried down the length of his body before returning to his face. He had no doubts that he distracted her as much as she did him. “Never.” She defied him. “The Bortan will not take on the Gren. They are not stupid people. Look at the history. It speaks for itself. They attacked Poltar. A weak planet known for its sex slaves with no military, no defense. They attacked on the premise that they wanted the Poltarians to pay their tax. That attack was three years ago. What have they done since? Gone after Benox? You were a crucial factor in stopping the Bortan. You can stop them again.” So it wasn’t coincidence that she’d singled him out, confronted him to dispose of the Bortan chips. She had done her research, known he’d been active in fighting the Bortan, and of his own free will, not under the command of Command Center. “I helped a friend save his territory on Benox. If he’d been attacked only by King Sorale, I still would have gone to his aid.” He’d fought hard to help keep the Bortan off of Benox, and helped a good friend keep his power on that planet. But that was a time gone by. Benox was secure, at least for the present. Joining the Gren military had seemed the right thing to do after that. Little had he known that his previous battles would become stuff studied in textbooks, obviously something Dawn had taken to memory. “And now you have the opportunity to see more justice done,” she told him, not backing down. “Dispose of the chips, rid the Bortan of this knowledge.” She made an attempt to reach behind her and grab the chips but he stopped her. Grabbing her hand he pinned it to her chest, the fullness of her breasts pressing against his fist. He could feel her heart racing, see the passion rush through her when her gray eyes darkened, not looking away from him. He stepped closer, trapping her against the desk, pressing his legs against hers. “You are not in charge here,” he whispered, need flooding through him like it never had before. He had to fuck her, to bury his cock deep inside her. His blood boiled while his cock sprung to life at the thought. Right now he didn’t want to focus on what fucking her might do, how it might bind her to him. The need that surged through him made him not want to focus on what was right, or wrong. “And you do not tell me what to do,” she dared to spit back. “I come to you with a request, not to submit.” He grabbed the back of her head, fisting her long hair between his fingers. Conversation would be moot at this point. He had a feeling she would argue with him until dawn. And he had no interest in doing that. “Who do you submit to?” He wouldn’t press if she already had a man, that wasn’t his way. And as

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desperately as his cock pounded against his pants, he could force himself to ignore her if she were taken by someone else. “I submit to no one.” She searched his face with her eyes, seeing that he respected loyalty. If she told him that she had a man in her life he would leave her alone. “I belong to no one, and that is how it will always be.” Trent growled his response, gripping the back of her head, her hair tangling through his fingers. His mouth was hot when he pressed his lips to hers, devouring her with a kiss that had her insides melting. If the desk hadn’t been pressed against her ass she knew she would have slid to the floor in a puddle. His mouth moved over hers, leaving a wet trail down her chin. He nibbled at her neck, the softness of his lips and tongue mixing with the prick of his teeth. She had heard the stories of how the Gren fucked, of the wild passion created during their lovemaking. Gren were aggressive, rough, releasing the emotions they kept in check in their warrior existence. She hadn’t been raised among the race whose blood pounded through her. But she knew the submissive ways the females acted when fucking, and what she’d witnessed in her youth had never appealed to her. Untamable. That was what she’d been deemed. And the word suited her just fine. Dawn gripped Trent’s shoulders, pushing against his massive frame. Instantly his grip on her tightened, bending her backward, his hands moving to slide her coat from her shoulders. She pushed harder, digging her fingers into his flesh. Finally Trent looked up at her, the wild fire burning in his black eyes enough to soak her cunt. “Don’t stop me,” he breathed, his voice raspy and full of emotion. She smiled, licking her lips with enthusiasm. Her body cried out with an eagerness to take this man on, experience the raw carnal sex that he promised. “No,” she whispered. “But I will control you.” Something close to surprise changed his expression, momentarily taken aback by her words. She used that moment, gripping his shirt, pulling on it while she worked to raise it over his head. Trent allowed her that. He could barely catch his breath as he lifted his arms, letting her pull his shirt from his body. No woman had ever tried to best him, take charge, especially when fucking. Dawn Corl was wild, and that thought made his blood boil, his cock dance with anticipation at what it would take to tame her. She dropped his shirt to the ground, her mouth suddenly dry at the sight of him. Muscles corded under tanned skin. Dark hair curled over his chest, barely concealing the ripples of strength displayed before her. “Incredible,” she breathed, running her hands over the coarse hair, devouring him with her eyes. Leaning into him, she tasted his flesh, ran her tongue over his warm body, feeling his muscles twitch against her fingers. He tasted salty, the lingering smell of his clothing mixing with an aroma that could only be described as him—masculine and powerful. Never had she taken on a man with so much strength, with the ability to take what he wanted. Knowing he was stronger than she only excited her more.

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Trent lifted her, picking her up as though she was as light as a feather. And she knew that she wasn’t. He turned her toward his bed and she half expected him to toss her on it and braced herself for the impact. Wanting to make sure she would bring him down with her, she wrapped her legs around his waist, holding onto him while she found his mouth, kissing him with the aggression he had just shown her. Grabbing her by the waist, Trent pulled her from him, even though she fought to cling to him. When he placed her on his bed, she went to her knees. Her black hair was wild as it fell past her shoulders, those gray eyes on fire when she looked up at him. He reached for her shirt and pulled it from her, glorying in how she wore no undergarment, nothing to constrict her full breasts when they appeared before him. Swollen and ripe, her nipples dark and puckered, he’d never seen a more beautiful sight. Her body was muscular, trim and fit. When she breathed, her ribs rippled under her flesh. She reached for his pants, her breasts pressing together when she brought her arms forward. Her gaze left his, intent on freeing his cock. He wasn’t sure he could handle her touch without exploding. Her fingers were intent on her task. The way she brushed his skin, loosening his pants until she was able to free his cock, made it hard to concentrate. Trent threw his head back when she took him in her hands. Blood rushed through him, boiling through his veins, settling in his cock when she wrapped her fingers around his shaft. He looked down again quickly when her tongue darted over him. Moist heat enveloped him, saturating his cock and then through his body. The room seemed to spin around him, all of his energy focused on what she was doing to him. Grabbing her head, pulling her hair away from her face, he watched when she took him into her mouth. Her lips stretched around his shaft, while he drifted into her heat, feeling her tongue dart around him. “Damn it, woman,” he groaned. No woman had ever performed the magic her mouth seemed capable of. Stretching his fingers around her head, he plunged into her heat. Instead of trying to control him, she relaxed, allowing his shaft to feel the tightness of her throat. He would explode right there if he wasn’t careful. Dawn’s mouth tingled when he pulled his large cock out. Gasping for air, she collapsed onto her back. “No longer,” she said in between breaths. She needed him in her now. He looked dangerous standing over her, his expression brooding while his black eyes watched her struggle with her jeans. He stroked his cock, his long fingers moving up and down its length. She slid her pants down her legs, kicking them to the side as the throbbing desire pulsated to her cunt. “Fuck me, now,” she demanded, rubbing her fingers over her bald pussy. The heat between her legs seared her skin, moisture coating her fingers while she caressed her tender folds. “Can you get pregnant?” he asked, looking down at her. “No.” And it was no one’s business that she’d been surgically altered on the sex slave plantation where she was born and raised so that she could never have children. She didn’t want to focus on the shame that she’d felt when told that because of her mixed heritage, it

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wouldn’t be wise to allow her to reproduce. None of that mattered now. She couldn’t change the past. Trent climbed over her on his bed. His cock throbbed with an urgency that made him shake. Dawn lay under him, naked, the most beautiful creature he’d ever laid eyes on. For all purposes, she was Gren. Her muscular body, her long black hair, her aggressive nature. If it wasn’t for those compelling gray eyes that watched him, he would believe she was one of his own kind. But when he’d asked her if she could get pregnant, something had washed over her face, an emotion not readily identifiable. Her answer had been quick and sure, but his question had affected her. If his cock didn’t weigh more than the rest of him at that moment, hanging heavy and eager next to her heat, he would have asked why his question bothered her. But she couldn’t create life, and for now, that was what mattered. She reached for him, spreading her legs, the scent of her sex filling the air around them. Rich and musky, it intoxicated him, sending a fever through him that he wasn’t convinced fucking her once would extinguish. Adjusting his cock against her flesh, her moist heat saturating him, he closed his eyes, arching his neck as he tilted his head back and entered her. Dawn cried out underneath him, wrapping her arms and legs around him as she encouraged him deeper inside her. He was too big, stretching her like no man had ever stretched her before. But her cum eased his entrance, soaking both of them when he began moving back and forth inside her. Never had she thought she would enjoy sex like this. No one could have made her believe the act could be this incredible. With every stroke, he created a pressure inside her that built up like a volcano, threatening to erupt while the heat grew to dangerous levels throughout her. His momentum grew. There was no way he could continue to move slowly. Her heat burned his very soul, consuming him with a madness that forced him forward. Faster, harder, he ravished her sweet pussy while burying himself deep inside her, easing back, and then thrusting again. He felt her fingers dig into his flesh. Her groans grew louder, turning into cries of pleasure, egging him on, driving him harder. His next thrust sent her sliding up the bed. “Gods!” she screamed, raking her fingernails over his shoulders, while her inner thighs clamped down hard against him. “Yes, shit yes!” The fire between them burned out of control. She didn’t beg him to stop, didn’t tell him he was being too rough. Trent gritted his teeth, squeezing his eyes shut as he slammed into her again and again. The bed squeaked underneath them, his powerful thrusts igniting her pussy as waves of pleasure arced through her. She held on with everything she had, feeling him penetrate her deeper than she knew possible. He broke her dam of lust, her orgasm hitting her so hard she couldn’t breathe. “Trent,” she cried out, finally able to let go at the same time she could have sworn he doubled in size inside her, pulsing as he exploded and brought his own release. For a moment she could only stare at him. Sweat beaded his forehead. His black hair fell in glistening strands around his face. His expression was flushed but when he opened his eyes, met her gaze, those powerful black orbs took her breath away. Possessive, carnal, satisfied. The predator had captured his prey.

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Chapter Six

Her crewmates didn’t understand why she wasn’t returning to her ship. They were worried, scared. Staying in orbit this long hadn’t been the plan. And how could she guarantee their safety? Dawn was tired, her body sore in more ways than one. She ached for a good night’s sleep but didn’t see how she would get one staying in Trent Dar’s home. Her options seemed limited, at least for the moment. He still had the Bortan chips. He’d told her she wasn’t going anywhere. And unless she wanted to try and steal his glider, she was stuck. Trent lay spread out in his giant bed, all appearances showing him relaxed and sound asleep. She doubted either was true. His orders had been simple. “Get some sleep,” he’d told her. “We’ll discuss these matters more tomorrow.” But the Poltar Leap was tomorrow. What did he plan on doing with her while he was gone on his mission? One thing focused clear in Dawn’s thoughts. She wanted to go with him. How she would pull that off she had no clue. For the last five minutes or so she’d been pacing his living room, thinking, trying to stay awake. She sauntered back toward his bedroom door, staring at his dark figure relaxed in his bed. There was no way she could sleep next to him. After what he’d done to her, how he’d made her feel, how his cock had felt inside her, she doubted she would get a minute of sleep lying next to him. Her option was his couch. She glanced back into the dark living area, quiet and in order. Trent hadn’t told her where to sleep, only to do so. She wished she knew if he really slept or not. She could take advantage of the moment and do a bit of exploring. Her eyes burned, though. Every muscle in her body ached. And his computer was in his bedroom. So were the Bortan chips. Any investigating she did would be in this room. Trent Dar was no fool. Sighing, she entered the bedroom, running her finger along the edge of the desk while she stared at the computer. The screen was dark, the keypad locked. It would take time and effort to figure out how to decode it. “I told you to sleep,” Trent grunted, making her jump. Making a face in frustration, she moved to the bed, deciding if she was going to sleep, she’d be comfortable doing it. Climbing in next to him, she stretched out. Within the next minute she was out, and slept through the night without the torment of dreams. When she woke the next morning, Trent was gone. Damn it. She didn’t want to be left in his house all day while he was attacking the Bortan. If she couldn’t get back to her people, she could at least enjoy the action of the fight. Glancing around his room, she wondered if he’d taken the Bortan chips with him. Surely he would. No matter where she tried to search though, every drawer and cabinet was locked. If they were here, they were locked up securely. She took only a minute to wash herself in his bathroom.

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Grabbing the Gren uniform out of her backpack, she hurried to disable his alarm system so she could leave and follow him. And she knew exactly where he would be. It took longer than she expected to decode his alarm system to the storage room behind his house, but she wasn’t disappointed. A carrier sat parked in the garage area, and with a little tampering, she had it started, and hurried back to Command Center. Getting onto the grounds where the spacecraft waited to take Trent Dar’s crew to Poltar proved a little more tricky than she thought. “Hey,” a guard yelled after her when she tried to walk with calm authority through the gated area. “This is a private mission.” “Just following orders,” she told him, careful not to look up. Her only dead giveaway was her eyes. Her heart pounded when the guard caught up with her, grabbing her arm. “And so am I. Commander Dar has already cleared his crew. What are you doing here?” “Do you want me put on detention because I’m late?” she barked, praying he would back down. She fisted her hands at her side, adrenaline pumping through her, making her shake. “Everyone has already been cleared. You aren’t supposed to be here.” The guard wouldn’t be swayed. “I don’t know what you are trying to pull, but your assignment isn’t to be on this mission.” Well, damn him to the gods. Dawn looked around her quickly. Ahead of her were the ships that would run the Poltar Leap. Mechanics moved around them, taking care of last-minute inspections. The debriefing was probably taking place right now in the flat roofed buildings to the side of her. Large windows faced the open field. It was hard telling how many people could see them right now. Sweat clung to her skin under her clothes. No temperature adjustment would make her feel comfortable right now as her nerves tingled, anxiety racing through her. She needed to decide quickly what to do, and then do it. “What’s going on here?” Trent barked from behind her. Dawn about jumped out of her skin. Where the hell had he appeared from? She didn’t even get a chance to turn around. Strong fingers dug into her shoulders, pinning her where she stood. “Commander Dar.” The guard saluted, the stiff Gren respect shown all superior officers. “Return to your post.” Trent offered no further explanation, not needing to give one. His rank offered more privileges than most on this moon. He forced her into an about-face then marched her toward the spacecrafts, letting go of her shoulders but leaving his imprint branded in her skin. The heat from his touch rushed through her. “What?” she began. “Silence.” He didn’t yell. His expression remained emotionless.

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Trent let go of her and moved across the open area toward the waiting spaceships. For the most part they were ready to go, and his crew had already begun heading toward their ships. They had seen him walking and figured it was time to board. He would have preferred a few more debriefing minutes with them, but there hadn’t been a lot to say. He’d known none of them would be pleased with the assignment. But they would follow orders. What annoyed him was Dawn. It hadn’t surprised him to see her here. But she’d just strutted on in, like she owned the place. For some reason he’d expected to see her pop up behind him after he’d been in flight. Maybe that had been her plan and she’d gotten busted. Damn woman. Climbing aboard his ship, the steps tapped behind him as she followed. Anger filtered through him when his comm lit up. Explaining Dawn would be no easy matter, and he didn’t have the time or the desire to do so. “Who is with you?” Captain Por Gree spoke with his usual calm manner. Trent had situated himself in the chair of the small craft. Checking the settings, he flipped the switch so he could answer his captain. “Her name is Dawn Corl. I’ll explain her to you when we return.” Trent flipped off the communication, not missing the raised eyebrow of Dawn’s astonished face while her gaze went from his to the control panel. “I can help navigate. I’ve flown before,” she offered, deciding it best not to question why he’d spoken to his commanding officer that way. “Secure yourself and be quiet.” If he didn’t keep his anger in check it would fog his thinking on this mission. And he had every intention of making this a quick and eventful trip. To her credit, Dawn did as she was told, securing herself in the only other seat the small ship offered. Trent ignited the engines and then opened communication with the ships around him. Everyone was ready to get this over with. They left the surface of the moon, the environmental domes opening to allow passage, and quickly entered the orbit of Poltar. The planet’s atmosphere was thin, hot from the two morning suns, and he adjusted the settings quickly so that their glare didn’t blind him. “Missiles ready,” his second officer announced. Trent pushed the buttons on his panel so that he could communicate with the two ships flying alongside him. “The Bortan headquarters are targeted on screen,” another of his men announced. Trent ignored Dawn when she leaned forward to see the navigational screen. Small lights, beeping to show their targets, appeared on the map image of the city of Grok. He angled his ship, lowering into the atmosphere, coming down on the unsuspecting people below. His stomach tied into knots. On his command they would fire missiles, destroying the Bortan headquarters. The attack was unexpected and would be effective. Poltar would be rid of the nasty race

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that had destroyed it. It was too little and too late. Trent didn’t like any of this, and he despised those who had issued the orders. But his arguments had been moot. The high command on his own planet supported the mission, seeing it as a strategically good move in showing the Bortan they would not succeed in securing Poltar as their own. The people on this planet had been through enough. Trent’s arguments had fallen on deaf ears. “We have activity.” The excitement in his second commander’s voice showed only his youth, his inexperience with battle. “Proceed as planned.” Trent hit several switches on his panel, getting a closer view of the city below. “The Bortan know you are here.” Dawn had undone her security belts and moved in next to him, her voice ringing with excitement. He growled, not needing her commentary to see the obvious. The Bortan shouldn’t be expecting them. His officer to his right had decelerated, a sign of hesitation. The men he’d chosen to accompany him on this mission were well-trained, excellent officers, with impeccable records. Neither of them had a lot of battle time under their belts though. No simulation could match the intensity of the attack. “I think they’re loading their ships. We might have a counterattack.” His other officer sounded more calm, a well-trained warrior. Trent knew both of them were nervous though, their fingers hovering over the button to release all weapons. Dawn had stepped closer, her hand grazing over his shoulder, the action so slight, yet stirring the aggressive protector to life inside him. This mission could turn deadly. “Resecure yourself in your seat,” he told her, not looking over his shoulder, not taking his attention from the panel in front of him. Dawn turned quickly, unlatching the seat from the wall and sliding it next to his. She relatched it, securing it to the floor next to his, and then sat down. “That’s not what I meant.” This time he did give her a side-glance, in time to see her undaunted expression as her gray eyes showed her enthusiasm for the fight. This woman wasn’t a warrior. She had no training. But it was in her blood, in her nature. She was Gren, in spite of any other blood that trickled through her veins. And at the moment, she was stunningly beautiful. He returned his attention to the panel, their presence over the city apparent now as they decreased elevation. The first Bortan headquarters was almost underneath them. “On my command,” he said into his comm, moving his finger over the button that would release his missiles. “Fire,” he barked, and pressed the button. Dawn sucked in her breath, bringing her hands together quietly as her face glowed with the excitement he sensed pumping through her. She despised the Bortan, one thing they had in common, and he could only guess at what nightmares they had offered her to spawn such hatred.

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“Prepare missiles.” Trent wouldn’t offer time to glory in the buildings that had just been destroyed. “Fire.” He spoke calmly this time, pressing the necessary button to release the second wave of missiles. Dawn leaned forward, looking out the clear front of his ship to see the explosions on the ground. “Damn the hells. Look.” She pointed outside, and then turned quickly, checking the readings on his panel. “We have company.” “Aggressive maneuver closing in,” one of his men informed him through the comm. “Brace for attack,” Trent told him, fully prepared for the Bortan to fire on them. He’d briefed his men on this before leaving. A race didn’t annihilate another planet without the means to defend themselves. The Bortan would fight to keep their post on Poltar. He never expected this to be an easy mission. With two of the standing buildings that housed the Bortan in this section of the planet wiped out, he anticipated the Poltar Leap to end soon, but they’d all known entering into this that the risks were high. All three of them returning alive would be a miracle. And Trent didn’t buy into miracles. An explosion rocked his ship. “Woo-hoo!” Dawn cheered when the Bortan ship next to him blew up. He heard the similar praise ring through his comm when his officer praised the other for accurate shooting. “Load missiles.” They needed to stay focused. One more attack and he could steer them out of there. The headquarters for the Bortan that lined Grok on the other side of the city spread out over the countryside. They were new buildings, built since the original attack of the Bortan and resembling more of their own native architecture than that of Poltar. The construction showed their satisfaction in taking over the planet, assimilating the culture to suit themselves. Destroying all of the buildings meant the three ships needed to pan out. Trent punched in the new navigation plan for his ship. He watched the screen noting his men did the same. They spread out, preparing for the last attack. “Communication is coming in from Grok,” one of his officers told him. “We don’t respond until the mission is finished.” They couldn’t afford distractions at this point. He moved his remaining missiles into place, preparing them to launch. “On my signal,” he said, his finger damp against the button that would fire his weapons. “There are more Bortan ships,” Dawn cried out, her hair flying around her when she turned quickly from

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her view outside the ship to focus on Trent. “Quick. You can shoot them down.” He ignored her. That wasn’t the mission profile. And if she’d listened well enough when she eavesdropped on their initial briefing, she knew that. “Fire,” he ordered, releasing his own missiles over the designated buildings below. His ship launched to the side, moments after his missiles dispersed. At the same time, bright light blinded them as one of the ships to the side of him exploded over the city. He’d just lost one of his men. The mission however, in the eyes of the Gren superiors, had just been successful. Fire burned in his heart, his insides hardening in anger over the loss of a good warrior. “Dar, get your ass out of there.” Por Gree spoke through his comm, the leader’s voice serious yet calm. “We’ll send in reinforcements to clean up the dirty work.” Trent knew they hadn’t wanted him on this mission. His rank could have gotten him out of it. The chances of none of them making it back alive were high. And he’d just lost a good man. But Trent wouldn’t send anyone into a suicide attack without going in with them. It went against everything he believed. As much as anyone he wanted to see the Bortan wiped out, crushed back to their home planet if not destroyed completely. The mass destruction they had brought on this solar system was enough to justify wiping them out of existence. But no one did his dirty work for him. He brought his ship around, ready to take on the Bortan remaining in the air. “Dar, this is no time for heroics. We’ve just launched several more ships.” Gree sounded stern now. “Get out of there now. The few remaining Bortan will be handled by the cleanup crew.” Trent ignored the order. “Heroics is the whole reason you initiated this mission,” he breathed through his teeth, not caring that Por Gree knew his feelings about this assignment. A more strategically planned mission could have wiped out the Bortan. The diplomats had argued that moving quickly would prevent leaks and show the Poltarian their good intent in bringing peace to their planet. Too little, too late, Trent thought. They should have attacked the Bortan long before now. He never had understood the minds of diplomats—these so-called peacemakers. The Bortan fired, the missile zooming toward them no more than a blinding light before it exploded against his ship. The impact sent him flying. Dawn next to him was simply a blur as she was hurled out of her seat, hitting the wall before sliding to the floor in a heap of clothes and black hair. He forced himself to stand, hurrying to her side to put her into her seat restraints. “Counterattack,” she hissed, almost sounding like she was giving him an order as her long hair streamed over her face. “Don’t worry about me.” He managed to lift her under her shoulders and dump her in her seat before reaching the controls, focusing on his panel that showed where the Bortan ship was. He could have just as easily looked out the window of his ship. “Target is lined up,” the officer on the remaining ship told him, letting him know he was ready to fire.

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“Take him down,” Trent told him, watching as yet another Bortan ship approached them. Again, communications from the ground came through his transmission. The officials of Grok had no means of defending themselves, their city barely maintaining its own under the influence of the Bortan. He couldn’t focus on their panicked voices right now. Another explosion ripped through the air, the shockwaves lurching against his ship, tipping it. “Hold on,” Trent yelled and at the same time the ship shook so furiously he had no doubts they’d been hit. And hard. They needed to land, and quickly, their only recourse at this point being to get this thing on the ground, or crash. Flames shout out from behind them, and Dawn screamed something at him. He couldn’t tell what she said though over the sudden sound of wind tearing into the small ship from the gaping hole behind them. He took them down quickly, strapping himself into his seat and hoping Dawn had the sense to do the same. The ground came up hard underneath them, jarring his teeth together from the impact. With no time to waste, he grabbed the small extinguisher from underneath the panel and attacked the flames with the pungent-smelling gas that quickly put the flames out, but left the small ship filled with a gas that made it hard to breathe. “Come on,” he said, grabbing Dawn’s hand and almost dragging her out of the ship. All small crafts were equipped with two handheld Rodners, large guns pinned to the walls of the ship and capable of a fair amount of destruction when fired. The long silver weapons weren’t actually invented by Rodner, but when he presented them to King Sorale on Benox as a gift, the king had automatically deemed them Rodners. The name stuck. He paused long enough to flip the latches, releasing the top Rodner. Dawn jumped to his side, releasing the bottom one just as quickly. It didn’t surprise him that she knew exactly how to take the Rodner from its housing. The woman had many hidden talents. They were barely out of the ship, and Trent was looking around them, getting his bearings, when Dawn flipped her comm around her ear. “Pahr,” she said calmly into the mouthpiece. At the same time, his comm buzzed. He watched her, curious who this Pahr was, while wrapping his comm around his ear and adjusting the end to his mouth. “Pahr, honey,” she said, in a much softer tone than he’d heard her use before. “You need to bring the ship down to Poltar. Lock in on my coordinates and then plot a course just south of here. I’ll come to you.” Dawn watched Trent study her with those penetrating black eyes. His expression unnerved her, made it hard to concentrate. Danger loomed all around them. They needed to get the hell away from his ship before the Bortan attacked. Yet her body was distracted by the intensity of his gaze, predatory, dark and mysterious.

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She did her best to focus on Pahr’s whining voice. “What’s wrong, Dawn? We’re all going to die, aren’t we?” Having lived most of her life with spineless male sex slaves, Pahr’s reaction shouldn’t have bothered her. But after just a day with Trent, his dominating pompous attitude so alluring, she found Pahr quickly grating on her nerves. “Do as I say. No one will die.” Trent spoke to someone in his comm. She ached to know what was being said. What he did, how he handled matters, impressed her, her insides tightening when she forced herself to pay attention to her own conversation instead of wondering what made his expression suddenly so tense. But she needed to get her ship down here. There was no way she would be left on Poltar again. This planet had nothing to offer her. She had people on her ship who relied on her, and wouldn’t make it without her. And more than likely, whoever came to rescue Trent, wouldn’t be as understanding as he had been with her. She wouldn’t be charged with some crime for trying to right the terrible wrong the Bortan had done. Pahr fumbled through setting the coordinates. She wished he had more confidence in himself. But it simply wasn’t in his nature. He was spoiled and continually needed reassuring. Dawn stayed on line with him until she was assured they had plotted the safest course possible to bring the ship down, and then disconnected. All she could do now was get to the meeting spot, and pray she could get Trent to come with her. And why did it matter so much to her whether he came along or not? Because he still had the Bortan chips. Although in her heart, she knew they would never arrive in Bortan hands as long as he had them. “Don’t worry about her,” Trent growled with a fierceness that Dawn hadn’t heard before. “Your Poltar Leap was successful. The Bortan headquarters are destroyed. Now your job is to focus on cleanup. I can take care of myself.” Trent yanked the comm out of his ear, looking for a minute like he might crush it in his hands. Dawn guessed his commanding officer was upset with her presence in the mission. A heaviness hit her heart that she wasn’t expecting. She’d seen that look before. Trent was frustrated with her being there, and now had to deal with her. It was the same look her father had given her when she’d gone to meet him. And she wasn’t sure she could deal with another man trying to figure out what to do with her now that he was stuck with her. The best thing to do was what she did with her father—leave. Chapter Seven

The Grok security had moved in around Trent’s ship, hurrying passersby on their way, searching the sky with worried expressions, and eyeing the two of them with trepidation. Trent said a few words to one of the security men, agreeing to have them move his ship. Amidst the

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confusion, Dawn managed to move away from Trent, knowing she needed to make her escape, start heading toward where she would meet her ship. There was open land to cross, and in all black she was an easy target from the sky. But hopefully the Bortan would see the downed ship and focus on that. Although from the sound of it, many of the Bortan had been destroyed. She wouldn’t discredit the race though, a counterattack would be pending. She needed to get out of there. The growing amount of security men watched her curiously when she moved to the edge of the group. She looked toward the end of the street, knowing undeveloped land lay past it. One of the security men said something to her, but she ignored him, turning from the street and hurrying toward the shadow of one of the few remaining buildings in the area. Countryside lay beyond. Her heart raced when she reached the building, sweat clinging to her skin under her clothes. She sucked in a breath and blew it out, forcing herself to remain calm. Thinking straight was imperative right now. Focusing on Trent and what it would be like to remain by his side wouldn’t help her. None of it was real anyway. Her thoughts didn’t match the reality of the situation. She was a burden to Trent. That was the simple truth. The dry, hot air on the planet didn’t lower in temperature that much in the shade. The two suns kept Poltar quite hot year round. Growing up here, Dawn was used to it. But right now, the heat aggravated her. Her insides recoiled, the urge to strike out, hit something, relieve some of her frustration, made her muscles ache as she clenched them. And her emotions made no sense. Fucking Trent last night had simply been pleasure shared between consenting adults. She had no ties to him, or him to her. He hadn’t even wanted her on this mission. For that matter, he didn’t want or need her in his life. She shook her head, brushing her hair over her shoulder with her hand while blowing out a breath. There was no reason to be angry. She’d brought all of this on to herself. The important thing was to stay focused on the big picture, the fact that the main headquarters of the Bortan on Poltar had just been destroyed. They didn’t have the prototype chips that would allow them to convert to human form. And she was on her way back to her ship. Turning her gaze back to the wrecked ship, the security team working quickly to move it out of the way, a glider left the scene, headed her way. Her heart lurched. Trent Dar drove up alongside her, looking outraged. The dome slid over him, disappearing behind him and at the same time he reached out and grabbed her arm. “Don’t ever run off on me,” he told her, yanking her hard enough that she lost her footing. She grabbed on to him, stabilizing herself, but unable to stop him from lifting her easily and placing her not too gently, on the seat in front of him. Taking the Rodner from her hand, he slid it alongside the glider, next to his. Suddenly he touched her everywhere, and if it wasn’t for the intense anger seeping from him, her arousal would have been uncontrollable. Nonetheless, her insides pranced with delight that he would come after her. No matter that he was mad. He wanted her with him.

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“I need to get to my ship,” she told him, hoping he wouldn’t see how happy she was that he hadn’t let her get away. “Where is it?” he asked, pulling him into her, his long legs pressing against hers on the seat while one arm protectively pulled her against him. The dome covered them and he took off, quickly, flying fast enough to leave ground in less than a minute, although he flew low, staying close to the ground. “They will be landing on the old Ryl plantation. It’s south of here.” She pointed in the general direction. Trent seemed satisfied with her vague directions, veering in that direction, his body relaxing slightly around her. She wished she could say the same of hers. It seemed like he touched her everywhere. Her entire body tensed with awareness, a warmth traveling through her that had nothing to do with the blinding suns outside. Heat scoured her skin along her legs where his muscular inner thighs touched her. One firm hand, with long fingers spreading over her skin, rested on her abdomen, dangerously close to the heat pulsing between her legs. Her backside leaned against his chest, firm and swollen with muscles that rippled against her skin. She knew if she relaxed any further against him he would feel the desire that raced through her like electric currents, turning her entire body into one massive pulsing nerve ending. Her rear end pressed against his crotch, the length of his cock stretching against her ass. Memories of the night before distracted her. She needed to stay focused on what was going on around them. The glider he’d somehow obtained had no tracking equipment on it. The only way they would know if the Bortan were flying overhead was to look. And the suns made that a difficult task. “Why did you run from me?” he whispered the words next to her ear, sending chills rippling through her. Suddenly her mouth was almost too dry to speak. “I heard you talking on your comm,” she said, positive that she sounded stupid when her voice cracked. Why in all the hells did she suddenly have a hard time talking to him? Sure, he was damned good-looking, and an awesome fuck but she needed to be more in control of herself. She’d known plenty of gorgeous men in her life. “Don’t worry about Command Center. They don’t have the power to override my decisions.” Trent misinterpreted her reasons for running. He thought she feared he would get a reprimand because of her. The sudden urge to tell her his feelings about the Gren military, to share with her his urge to leave the service, continue on his own as he had before, ran through his thoughts quickly. He had to put them to the side just as fast. Holding her to him was distraction enough, and they were far from being out of danger. “Command Center doesn’t bother me. You had matters to deal with, and so do I.” There. That sounded better. She told herself that no matter how cold her words sounded, they would show him that she could take care of herself, that she wasn’t weak. She ignored the small pang of regret that hushed through her when his body stiffened. And the heat that swelled inside her when his hand moved over her abdomen, brushing against her skin, igniting flames of

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desire between her legs was just that. It was physical. He was damned good in bed and it made sense that he would turn her on by touching her. That’s all it was. “So you use me to get rid of the Bortan chips, and now you’re done.” His words were cold, his grip on her tightening, crushing her against the hardness of his shaft pressed against her ass. She dared to look over her shoulder. But one look into those black eyes was a mistake. She drowned in his gaze, the intensity of how he looked at her, the predator, hard and aggressive—a deadly man by many standards. She swallowed with effort. “I didn’t say that,” she managed to say, although she almost choked on her words. The desire to tell him she wanted to stay by his side wrapped around her like a drug, intoxicating, powerful. “My ship needs me.” Trent Dar was not a man to play with. If she tried, she would lose. A glisten of light caught her eye over his shoulder. Trent noticed her suddenly look away, look past him, her expression changing. “Where is your ship?” he asked, glancing in the direction she looked, seeing the ships lowering over Grok. Dawn pulled her comm out, adjusting it over her ear quickly. “Pahr, where in the hells are you?” “There are Bortans everywhere.” Pahr was terrified. Dawn knew this wasn’t something he was good at doing. She knew the poor man fought the urge to run under a table and hide. Seeing the Bortan flying over Grok, which was probably on his view screen right now, would have the man frozen in place with fear. She forced herself to sound calm, running her hand over Trent’s, which still rested on her belly, before she’d realized what she’d done. Her heart skipped a beat and she straightened in her seat. “I’ve told you before the Bortan can’t compete with our technology,” she reminded Pahr. “Bring the ship down. We are entering the Ryl Plantation now.” “Okay, Dawn. I can’t wait to see you.” Pahr calmed down immediately, the reminder that the ship he was in was top-of-the-line helping his fragile nature. And it should. She’d paid a small fortune for that ship, having used most of the money left on Ryl after the Bortan destroyed the place. In gaining her freedom, and obtaining an incredible amount of money, she’d paid the price of losing her home, and her mother. “I can’t wait to see you too,” she told Pahr, and then ended the transmission. “Well, you’ll be seeing him soon enough,” Trent said, a fire burning through him that he didn’t want to acknowledge. It shouldn’t matter to him that she was excited to see some other guy. They’d had some great sex the night before, and she was a damned good fuck—one he wouldn’t mind doing again. But no matter her scruples, if she had a man, he would leave her alone.

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He moved his hand off of her waist, immediately missing the warmth of her body. There was no time to miss what he’d never really had though. She wasn’t his woman. Turning, he accelerated the glider in the direction Dawn indicated while keeping an eye in the direction of Grok. “Those are Gren ships,” he acknowledged, knowing they were securing the city. “Any Bortan left will be incarcerated before the night is out.” “They should be killed,” Dawn muttered, the bitterness obvious in her voice. She turned her attention toward Ryl. Her land spread out around them now. Plush and beautiful, or it had been at one time. Fires had destroyed the place, burning the countryside, and killing the many Bosha that had grazed these meadows. Now there was nothing. No slaves, no family, no one. An emptiness filled her as she caught sight of the ship that had landed ahead of them. The suns glistened off of its metal, blinding them. “That’s it.” She should be more excited. The safety of her ship meant she could get off of this planet. Away from the Bortan, away from the memories. That had been her plan. Finish this mission and then go to Greneen. She wouldn’t be welcome there, at least not by her father’s family. But he had offered her help in starting a new life there, starting over. She wondered what Trent would be doing after all of this was over. Probably taking the next assignment that Command Center gave him. The emptiness in her became an aching throb in her gut. Pulling out her comm, she told her crew to open the back hatch, allowing them to drive into the back port of her ship. “Where’d you get this?” Trent asked after parking the glider in the holding bay of her ship. “I bought it.” She didn’t have to tell him where she got the money. It wasn’t his business. There had been plenty of cases of slaves suddenly showing up filthy rich, having cleaned out the drawers of their plantation after their owners had been killed. She didn’t blame any of them. They had to survive somehow. “I’m so glad you’re back!” Pahr jumped out of the commander’s seat, hurrying to embrace Dawn. Trent stood silently, watching the tall, muscular man hold Dawn affectionately. She made no qualms about returning the affection, holding him tight showing him that she’d missed Pahr too. Trent wanted to rip her out of the Poltarian’s arms. “He’s been a crybaby the entire time you were gone.” Another man walked around from the control console, also Poltarian, and just as good-looking as Pahr. Pahr pulled out of her arms, suddenly looking like he might cry. What the hell did a woman as strong as Dawn see in this wimp? “Leave him alone,” she scolded the man, and then turned to Trent in time for him to see her smile. “Trent, this is Pahr, and this is Reen.”

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The two men nodded at Trent, straightening, their expressions solemn. For the sake of the gods! Both of them had been sex slaves. He recognized the submissive expression they got when looking at him, as if waiting orders. No wonder this Pahr man was such a wimp. Trent would wager if he growled at them he would have them running to the corner. The thought rather amused him. A young woman, also Poltarian by the looks of her long white hair falling past her shoulders and tattoo-covered bare arms, entered the room from a door off to the side. She swayed toward them, her small feet moving silently across the floor. She wore slippers on her feet, the way one of the wealthy of this planet dressed in the comfort of their homes. “Dawn. It’s about time.” She grinned broadly and hurried into Dawn’s arms, hugging her as affectionately as the two men just had. “I couldn’t stand it that you were gone so long. Thank the gods you are okay.” Again Dawn made introductions. “And this is Rayn,” she said, her arm still around the young woman when she spoke to Trent. “He’s a Gren.” Rayn looked up at him with soft gray eyes, her bright tattoos adorning her skin, proof in the Poltarian society that she’d never been a slave. Trent wondered at the hodge-podge of people staring at him. This wasn’t what he’d expected. Dawn glanced up at Trent. His expression wasn’t readable, but those black eyes made her want to melt inside. He stood there so strong, his black clothing stretching taut over his muscular body. He was so beautiful, so perfect, that a lump swelled in her throat. He was worlds away from her, and she wished it were otherwise. Turning, fearful emotions would rise that she didn’t want to deal with, she focused on the control panel, on the work that still lay around them. “Are we monitoring Grok?” she asked, running her fingers over the buttons on the control panel that faced the windows toward the front of the ship. “I set up the programs like you taught me.” Pahr moved to stand next to her, his hand running fondly down her back, smoothing her long silky black hair. Trent watched the action. He moved in on the two of them, not liking the movement. If the Poltarian showed intimidation and moved out of the way, that wasn’t his problem. Pahr stepped to the side, standing next to Reen. The two men watched him, but he gave them no more than a glance before focusing on the control panel. “This equipment is state of the art.” He recognized the monitoring program she had running as soon as she pulled it up. It was an intricate program, designed to track the locations of other ships and monitor life forms on the ground. Only the top-of-the-line ships had stuff like this. “Yes. I know.” Dawn wondered if he would question how she got it. Granted her sellers weren’t who his military would buy from. But then his military wouldn’t give her the time of the day anyway. Trent moved so that he could easily see over her shoulder, the lingering scent of his soap that she’d used that morning filling the air around her. He glanced down her backside, loving how her black pants hugged

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that sweet ass of hers. Her hair fanned around her shoulders, gliding down to the narrow of her back. He ached to grip those black locks, pull her out of the way, place her alongside him while he took over the controls. The urge to show her that he wanted her by him, to be his woman, hit him with such a strong blow it took his breath. No woman had ever moved him like this. He pulled his attention from her when several blinking red lights started on the console. “I know,” she said, as if reading his thoughts. Her fingers moved nimbly over the board. “The Bortan are trying a counterattack.” “Trying is the keyword.” Trent had his fingers moving right along beside her, not caring if she proclaimed it her equipment. He’d used this level of technology before and wanted to see how successful the attack was. “Look there. We have men coming down now.” “The Bortan don’t stand a chance.” Dawn looked up at her shipmates, smiling. “It won’t be long now before there are no more Bortan on Poltar.” Rayn clapped her hands together. “Finally. We will be able to go home.” Trent looked at the young Poltarian. Her smile met her eyes, her expression glowing at the thought that her home that probably didn’t exist any longer would soon be hers again. The tragedies of war, they came in all shapes and sizes. This young woman, so fragile and pretty, lived in denial. “Rayn. Go find some of that Greneen tea. We would like some right now.” Dawn didn’t look at her, but moved around the control panel, pressing buttons on the wall to turn on several screens that were on the walls to either side of them. Images of Grok slowly came into focus. She ignored the Poltarian woman as she left through the door she entered, and focused on Trent. “We have images of both sides of the city here. Monitoring to the south and to the north, we will know how long we are safe here. And we could monitor Gren transmissions as well to determine if more Bortan ships are headed to Poltar.” She was telling him they had the capability of tapping into military communications, spying on them. It was an illegal maneuver, but one that would assure their safety. He had no doubts she would perform the function if he wasn’t there. But with him present, there was no way she would authorize the transmission. At least she didn’t play him for an idiot and try to pull off the stunt under his nose. “Do it.” He nodded, not taking his eyes off of her when she gestured to one of her men. “Pahr. Set up the communication override. I want to know everything going on around this planet.” Her expression was calm, but she stood tall, all muscles tight, her body firm. She was a natural commander, in charge of a ship full of weaklings who wouldn’t make it a second without her. One thing he knew beyond a shadow of doubt, none of these people had asked her to obtain those Bortan chips. He wondered how she’d obtained them. Pahr moved to a side panel, while Reen moved closer to Dawn, eyeing Trent out of the corner of his eye nervously. “Is he staying with us?” he whispered, although loud enough for Trent to hear. “I could convert the lounge, make up a bed.” Dawn stroked his cheek, smiling fondly. Trent felt his muscles harden again. He watched the intimate

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action, and couldn’t help wonder if she had sex with these two. After all, they had been sex slaves. He guessed they had all lived on the same plantation together. He didn’t know yet what part on that plantation Dawn had played, but imagining her as a sex slave just didn’t work in his mind. She wouldn’t have taken orders from anyone. “Why don’t we see if Rayn needs any help,” she told Reen. Turning to Trent her smile faded, the look of a warrior returning. “I’ll be back in a minute,” she told him, then turned and left the control room. He focused his attention on the programs running, making himself at home and channeling in to listen to several different communications. Too much time passed and Dawn didn’t return. Something was wrong. He decided it was time to explore the rest of her ship. Chapter Eight

The second sun had almost set when Dawn left her ship and walked across the familiar land toward where her home had once stood. She didn’t doubt that she might not walk this way again. Poltar had nothing to offer her anymore. But if just for tonight, just this one last time, she would see her mother. The calm of the night didn’t soothe her. New plants had started to grow after the terrible fires, but the home she’d grown up on no longer existed. She moved silently, walking across the field toward the remnants of the large home where she’d grown up. For a minute, in the fading light of the suns, she stared at the foundation that still stood. Once it had been a magnificent home, full of life and parties. Prosperous times and shrewd deals had kept the beautiful home lively. Now the remnants of a stone foundation were all that was left. Dawn trod over the rocky ground, moving to the unmarked grave where she’d buried her mother. Even in the dim light, she knew where to go. Before reaching the remains of her home, she paused, staring down at the small rocks that marked the shallow graves, graves she had dug herself after the deaths of her family. She squatted down, brushing the dirt from one of the rocks that formed the small cemetery she’d created when she put her family to rest after they were killed by the Bortan. “It’s done, Mama,” she said, a lump forming in her throat while her heart constricted. “I told you I would see to it that no Bortan walked across the land where you rested. I really think you would be proud of me. There was no way I could ever be the sex slave that you were, but now, you should see, I’m making something of myself.” Dawn sighed, unable to stop the tears. She stared up at the pale sky, darkening as the suns faded beyond the horizon. She wasn’t sure if her mom would be proud of her or not. Too many times she’d seen the gaze of disapproval when she’d stood up to their master, refusing to submit, taking her punishment with her head held high. She let the tears stream down her cheek, returning her attention to her mother’s grave. “It’s a different world now, Mom.” And it was one her mother never would have fit into. “There are no more slaves, no more masters. I’m happy now, Mom. I want you to know that.” Her heart weighed heavy in her chest. But there were things she needed her Mom to know, and knew

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saying them now would clear her conscience. No one would hear. And she could only hope that somehow her mother would know what her thoughts were. “I’ve talked to Zahn Corl. I know you wanted me to know who my father was.” Her voice caught in her throat. Mentioning the man’s name her master had forbidden her to meet on Ryl land somehow affected her. She stood, straightening her shirt, staring down at her mother’s grave. She no longer answered to the master of Ryl, and wouldn’t let voicing her thoughts here intimidate her. “He was really happy to know me. You would have been proud. I can’t say the same of his wife.” Dawn let out a chuckle, relaxing a bit, the land around her no longer holding the power over her that it once had. “But he will help me, Mom. You don’t have anything to worry about.” A crack behind her alerted her. Dawn whirled around, pulling her laser, and pointed it straight at Trent Dar. He couldn’t believe what he’d just heard. Dawn stared into those black eyes, glowing brightly while his raven hair fell around his face. His body straightened, muscles swelling under his shirt as he stared at her. “What are you doing out here all by yourself?” he asked, ignoring the laser pointed at his face and moving closer to her. He didn’t doubt her ability to kill, not for a second, but she wouldn’t shoot him. “If I’d needed an escort, I would have asked for one,” she told him, not lowering her gun. Trent moved quickly, deciding a lesson needed to be taught. He lunged at her, taking her laser before she had time to react, and pinning her arm behind her back. He wrapped his arm around her, cupping her chin and forcing her head up so that she would look at him. “Don’t ever assume you can take down your opponent single-handed. You don’t have the training,” he whispered against her face, watching those gray eyes turn icy with fury. She bent over, or tried to, fighting to free herself from his grip. And he’d give her credit for putting up a fair fight. She managed to knock him off balance once, struggling, as she went down on all fours to get free. But he grabbed her leg, sliding her along the ground, until he was able to flip her to her back and land on top of her. “If I hadn’t recognized you, I would have shot you on sight,” she told him, her breathing coming heavily, causing her breasts to rise and fall quickly while her long black hair spread around her on the ground. He adjusted his body, moving his legs between hers, forcing her legs apart. The fire in her gaze no longer came from fury, although he credited the darker hints of gray prancing around her irises to stubbornness. “I’m sure you would have.” He loved the spirit that sang through her, gave her strength, made her defiant. “And then I’d be dead right now instead of on top of you, aching to fuck you.” She made another attempt to free herself although he doubted she used half of her strength. “It doesn’t look like there’s a lot I can do to stop you,” she told him, her tone softening, turning sultry, a slight tilt of her mouth proof that she was amused.

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Trent moved to lean on one elbow, stroking her black strands away from her face with one finger. Their silky texture inspired him to run his hands over her head, revel in how soft and feminine she could seem, yet capable of fighting in battle at the same time. Dawn ached to lift her head and claim his mouth. The way he looked at her, stroked her skin with his rough fingers, a fire burned out of control inside her that only he could put out. But she couldn’t let him see her as weak, incapable of defending herself simply because she’d been raised a slave. She wasn’t sure what he’d overheard. But no matter, he would see her as she was today, not for what she was brought up to be. And there was only one way to teach a warrior a thing or two. His body had relaxed over hers, his cock throbbing hard against her pelvic area. He was so incredibly hard, and not just his shaft but his entire body. Muscles that could have been chiseled from rock stretched the length of his shirt, turning her insides to molten lava. No man had ever displayed such male perfection as Trent Dar did. But he needed to be taught a lesson, to be shown that she wasn’t some piece of ass for the taking. He’d seen the sex slaves who relied on her, overheard her talking to her mother’s grave. All of that could be interpreted as weakness in her, and she wouldn’t have him seeing her that way. Just when she was sure he would lower his mouth to take hers, she moved quickly, catching him off-guard. Shoving him off of her, she rolled quickly to the side. This time she made it to her feet. She flung her hair over her shoulder, moving it quickly out of her way, and positioned herself quickly for his impact. “You will never take me without asking,” she hissed at him. The fire that raged from his eyes just about made her cum. “Every inch of you is asking for it,” he said while a slow grin appeared on his face. She fought to control her breathing. He’d have her panting with need if he kept staring at her that way. “But you aren’t asking, you’re taking,” she told him. Her body shook with anticipation, with excitement, when she made a show of turning around, turning her back to him, tossing her hair over her shoulder with an indifferent air. The muscles in her legs quivered, a thrill running through her that was hard to contain. It was hard to concentrate on her mother’s grave, as she glanced quickly down at it, with her mind racing over the possibilities as to what Trent might do next. He was behind her instantly, not touching her but matching her pace, shadowing her while every nerve ending in her body about rippled to the point of overloading. “So that is what you want.” His deep baritone sent shivers over her skin. “You want a docile sex slave like the ones you have on your ship. Do they bow to you, putting out when you demand sex, and striving to please you in whatever manner suits you that night?” She dared to turn around, to face him head on, to stare into those incredible eyes. This man would never submit to anyone.

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“And what if it is?” she asked, darting her tongue over her lips nervously. Once again she fought to keep her breath steady, to keep from out and out panting in front of this magnificent man. “Then you don’t want me.” And he knew that she did. Trent saw the lust swarming through her, the way her breath came quickly. She wasn’t running from him but taking him on. He hoped she knew what she was stirring to life in him. Because he was about ready to conquer, and take what he would have as his own. Dawn poked her finger into his chest, her heart racing so hard she prayed she wouldn’t stagger into him. Need raced through her like laser fire. “If you want something, you will learn to ask for it.” If he noticed how her finger shook, desire making every muscle in her body quiver, he would win this battle. “Ask for it?” Once again he moved before she could react, wrapping his arm around her, pulling her to him, crushing her breasts against his chest. “Is that what you want?” With his free hand he gripped her shirt, forcing it up until her full ripe breasts appeared. He took one in his hand, kneading it until her nipple puckered fiercely, begging him to suck and lick. “Do you want a docile man who will jump when you say boo?” He leaned into her, enjoying how her breath came in pants, how her gray eyes were wide as she stared up at him. “Do you want a man you can control?” he asked her, lowering his mouth to her nipple. She cried out when he sucked her into his mouth, circling the puckered skin with his tongue. Her fingers dug into his flesh, gripping hold of him while he leaned her backward, holding her securely to him. “I don’t think that kind of man appeals to you,” he told her, his mouth full of tit while his free hand moved down between her legs. The heat soaking through her pants about undid him. “Babe. You are on fire.” “I know,” she moaned, knowing he’d won this battle. All that mattered at this point was that he soothed the ache that his defiant words had brought on. The thought of breaking him in, teaching him a thing or two, turned her on as much as what he was doing to her body right now. She had a feeling it might take a while to do it though. But for the moment, all she wanted was for him to fuck her. She would worry about the rest later. “Tell me what you want,” he whispered hoarsely, about to explode if he didn’t fuck her soon. Dawn pushed against him, moving him to arm’s length. The night air gripped her moist nipple, sending chills rushing through her. There wasn’t much time. Remaining out here for an extended time wouldn’t be wise. Stray Bortan would just love stumbling on the two of them. And although she didn’t doubt their ability to defend themselves, she didn’t want the interruption. She took hold of his pants, tugging on them until the top button came free. “Now this is interesting,” she teased him, watching a dark glaze appear over his eyes. “Maybe you do want to be told what to do, if you want me to tell you what I want.”

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Trent growled, grabbing her pants and undoing them with enough speed to make her knees weak. He forced them down her legs and then turned her around, pushing on her just enough to let her know he wanted her on the ground. She didn’t fight him this time. Her pussy burned with too much need. Going down on her knees, she bared her ass to him. His hands were on her instantly, spreading her sensitive flesh, his fingers gliding into her moist heat until she thought she might scream out. “Damn it, woman.” His cock throbbed so brutally inside him that he couldn’t think straight. No matter how he tried to gain her submission, she came back at him with defiance. Even now, with her on her hands and knees, her pussy and ass exposed to him, ready for him to fuck, he knew she hadn’t given in to him. He kneeled behind her, freeing his cock and pressing it against her soft flesh. It found the source of her heat and all he could do was thrust inside. Another time he would make her scream with need. But right now, outside where danger lurked all too close, he would simply enjoy her sweet treasure. After all, she could have fought him more, she could have outright refused him. But one thing he knew, as he buried himself deep inside her, Dawn wanted him. And damn it to all of the hells if he didn’t want this woman more than any other he’d ever known. Dawn bit her lip, fighting not to cry out, to draw attention to them. His cock was so thick, so hard as it glided deep inside her. He built up the momentum quickly, gripping her ass while he began pounding her cunt, tearing into her as he plunged inside her again and again. Trent stretched her soft ass, allowing him the glorious view of watching his cock glide in and out of her soaked cunt. Pressure built inside him, his cock burning as blood pumped through him, filling his shaft. The urge to cum overtook him. He held on to her tightly, grinding his teeth as he looked up at the sky, fighting the urge to howl when he exploded inside her. “Trent,” she whimpered, collapsing underneath him as her own orgasm rippled through her. “You’re incredible,” she added, barely whispering as she welcomed the coolness of the ground. Chapter Nine

An hour after returning to Dawn’s ship, they had exhausted all resources in learning what they could about the Poltar Leap, and its success. Trent was more than impressed with the technology she had running there. Her three shipmates looked to her for guidance in everything, and she was more than patient with them, revealing a gentle, nurturing side to her. Dawn had dismissed her three shipmates, commenting that they should prepare a nice celebratory meal for all of them. He watched her backside as she moved to one of the side chairs and focused on a communications panel. “Are you contacting your partners concerning the Bortan chips?” he asked her, moving behind her in time to see her punch in the coordinates to open a transmission. “I have no partners.” She didn’t hide what she was doing from him, but sent the request to open communications before he could see the transmission numbers. “Is that why you’re lingering here, instead

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of returning to Molten? You still have the chips. I’m curious what keeps you here.” “I won’t insult your intelligence with an answer to that,” he said quietly. Chills rushed through her. He wasn’t possibly still here because of her. It was wishful thinking on her part, but she wouldn’t allow herself to be played the fool. Trent Dar was a warrior, an incredible soldier. He didn’t have all of the answers concerning the chips. And she had no intention of sharing them with him. She had to keep the shield up around her heart, not allow his incredible good looks, or his aggressive nature to get the better of her. His appeal was simply because he was so much more man than any she had ever known. She doubted her feelings were mutual though. Trent Dar could have anyone he wanted. She had nothing to offer such a man. Besides, right now she had to get her own life in order. She was finally free. Chaining herself to some man, especially one as powerful as Trent Dar, would simply curb her abilities to test her wings. And there was so much she wanted to do. She looked over her shoulder at him, doing her best to keep her expression neutral. It was almost impossible to do. Just meeting his gaze made her want to melt in his arms. He was more man than she’d ever dreamed possible. “This is a private conversation,” she told him, and then sucked in a breath when his expression instantly hardened. “I need a few minutes alone.” She realized her hands were shaking when he said nothing, but turned and left. A moment of panic rushed through her when she realized he went toward the holding bay, where his glider was. The last thing she wanted him to do was leave. Dawn gave her head a quick shake. What was wrong with her? If he left she could continue with her mission, take care of matters and then start a new life. She needed to get a grip on herself. Maybe fucking him had been a mistake. She still tingled everywhere from the intense satisfaction he’d given her. And all it had been was a romp on the grounds. She closed her eyes briefly, rubbing her face with her hands. She needed to stay focused. Her mission had been successful so far, and that was all that mattered. Turning toward the screen in front of her, she fought for concentration. She stared at the words that said, “images loading”, and tried to keep her thoughts off of where Trent had just gone. “Dawn. You were successful in discarding the chips?” Her father’s face, Zahn Corl, appeared on the screen. She fought not to glance over her shoulder, knowing there was no way Trent could know that she had taken on such a highly illegal mission for her father. Not just her father, but head of the house of Corl, one of the most substantial families on Greneen. He quite possibly was one of the few Gren who outranked Trent Dar. “Yes.” Her heart raced as she stared into the face of her father, a man she’d known about since childhood. “And the Poltar Leap appears to have been a success as well. We are still monitoring Bortan activity on Poltar.”

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Growing up on Ryl Plantation, whenever Zahn Corl had paid a visit, she had always been hurried out of the room, her master not wanting the prominent Gren to know of her existence. “Wouldn’t do for the man to know he has a bastard running around,” Dawn had overheard him telling her mother. “It would only bring him grief.” After the Bortan had attacked, and almost everyone at Ryl killed, she had managed to get off of the planet, scrunched into a shuttle with so many other terrified slaves. Her father nodded, his expression grave. “There is word out that one of our top warriors might have assisted you. Are you working with Trent Dar?” Dawn swallowed. She shouldn’t be surprised that her father would have obtained such knowledge. It had taken her a year to get off of Molten and secure a ship to Greneen, but then less than a day to find and meet her father. As soon as she’d sent word to him that she was his daughter, and would like an audience with him, he had sent for her immediately. His rank and sound reputation on his home planet allowed him privileges the average citizen didn’t have. She wouldn’t forget that. “He has no knowledge of the details of this mission. But yes, I accompanied him on the Poltar Leap.” She couldn’t help a small smile, hoping it appeared genuine to her father. She prayed her father was proud of her for managing such a contact, and see that she possessed his warrior abilities to scout out and find ways to manage her mission. “He wasn’t pleased that I was on his ship. But he didn’t kick me off of it either.” Her father didn’t smile, but she thought she saw a twinkle in his non-blinking black eyes. “I can’t imagine he would have been too disappointed to have you by his side.” She wasn’t too sure how to take that. Her father looked down, his hands moving although she couldn’t see through the screen to tell what he was doing. “My filtering programs are picking up an indication that this conversation is being bugged.” And with that he severed communications. Her screen went blank. Dawn turned to look at the doorway, which lead to the holding bay. Trent didn’t have the capability to listen in on her transmission from his glider, did he? Her nerves ate at her when she joined the others in the kitchen area of her ship. Trent strolled in a few minutes later, his expression its usual non-readable self. The kitchen, being in the center of her ship, had no windows like the main bridge did. A silver counter, lined with shelves, stood in the middle of the room, with computers lining the wall that provided the programs for their food. Dawn liked the fact that the kitchen also had a simple cooking area, and a pantry to shelf food items. Many who spent their lives traveling, or those in the military, were accustomed to the programmed food. She had never grown a taste for the synthetic stuff, and preferred meat that had once been a live animal, and fruit and vegetables that had come from plants.

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“I’m making my mom’s famous stew,” Rayn said when she noticed Trent enter the room. She turned from the large pot and smiled sweetly at him. “And who is your mother?” Trent asked, curious as to her place in this hodge-podge crew Dawn had. “The mistress of Ryl Plantation,” Rayn said proudly. “I am Rayn Ryl, first daughter of the house.” Trent glanced at Dawn, but she didn’t look at him, instead fingering the cloth towel that had bread wrapped in it. Bit by bit the pieces were falling together. After what he’d witnessed outside, with Dawn talking to her mother’s grave, and knowing they were on Ryl land, he guessed that Dawn had grown up with Rayn, and possibly the two men as well. But picturing Dawn as the slave, and Rayn as the daughter of the house, didn’t make sense. Somehow after this planet had been taken over by the Bortan, Dawn had managed to make contact with her father, and entered into his good graces. Trent had met Zahn Corl during several different Gren ceremonies, and knew the man didn’t give just anyone an audience. Dawn’s assertiveness didn’t fit the profile of a former sex slave. It was more than that, he thought to himself while eating the spicy stew offered him. Pahr and Reen showed all the signs of growing up as slaves. They were submissive, hesitant in making eye contact, and jumped eagerly to wait on the others. Dawn ignored all of them through the meal, playing with her food, lost in thought. Her beauty was a distraction, but at the moment, her mind appealed to him more. He was dying to know what was going on in her thoughts. In the few minutes that he’d managed to tap into her conversation, he’d been floored to discover she had plotted the theft of the Bortan chips with Zahn Corl. It didn’t surprise him. Dawn could work outside the law, move in circles that no prestigious Gren could touch. If Zahn Corl used her simply as a tool, he would have the man’s head. He couldn’t stomach that thought. He barely paid attention to the idle chatter around him, and noted Dawn didn’t seem to give it much notice either. She didn’t even offer to help when the others cleaned the meal away after they were through eating. Her long black hair was a shroud around her sultry expression. Those gray eyes were clouded with thought. He ached to stroke a finger down her cheek, put those worry lines to rest. “Why are you staring at me?” Dawn asked, after the others had left the room. She walked past Trent, back to the bridge, needing to check the running programs and ensure their safety for the evening. “How long are you staying here?” He answered her question with a question, following her as far as the doorway and then leaning against it. She glanced up at him once she’d reached the panels. He crossed one boot over the other, muscles stretching against his pants even though he appeared relaxed. Crossing his arms, he cocked his head at her, his gaze penetrating through her. “Until I know the Poltar Leap was successful.” Determination crossed her face. “And if it wasn’t? Will you single-handedly wipe every Bortan from this planet?” he asked, having a feeling she would enjoy the task.

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Trent approached her, enjoying how her eyes widened when he moved closer. And then he did what he wanted to do earlier. He stroked her face, running his finger from her temple down the side of her cheek. Her eyelashes fluttered, a slight flush giving her face a sensual glow. No matter that he’d just had her, he already wanted her again. “Don’t you need to return to Command Center?” she asked, not meeting his gaze. She looked down, her long hair fluttering around her face, appearing to concentrate on something on her screen. There was no program pulled up to look at however. “Yes. They have ordered me back.” She nodded, her head still down. “Are you trying to get rid of me?” he asked. “No,” she answered almost too quickly. Turning, she walked over to the computers lining the wall. He had no problem following her over there, moving slowly, feeling her desire for him yet knowing she was leery at the same time. It excited him, made him want to pounce on her, fuck her until she screamed how badly she wanted him. Dawn turned on the active scanners, instructing the computer to check the grounds around them, track the land to see if any unexpected visitors were headed their way. She pushed the buttons to instruct the computer to scan every ten minutes, alert her if anyone approached, or tried to leave. “Command Center wants you to return, yet you don’t,” she mused, watching the small screens that displayed the quiet darkness surrounding her ship. “What is the reason for that, I wonder?” He wasn’t sure what made him stay, but he wouldn’t tell her that. He could justify several reasons. “You have created an agenda to eliminate the Bortan. I want to know what it is.” Dawn turned around, unable to take a step backward because of the computer panels. He was right behind her though, a dangerous fire burning in those black eyes. “I’m not the only one with an agenda,” she dared to whisper, her heart suddenly fluttering out of control in her chest. “Then you admit you have one.” Again, he couldn’t keep his hands off of her. Her skin was so soft and hot against his touch as he strolled his finger lazily down her cheek. She stood almost as tall as he did, her long hair framing her face and bringing out the creamy color of her skin. So fucking beautiful, and yet still such a mystery. His cock ached to be inside her again, enjoy her moist heat that burned hotter than the Poltarian suns. “You already know that I have one,” she came back at him, defiance making her gray eyes sparkle. “The Bortan destroyed everything I know, and everyone I loved. I will see them taken down.” “And you went after the one power you knew would help you.” He imagined Zahn Corl had a hard time turning down such a beautiful creature who showed such spirit and claimed to be his daughter. Dawn’s hands curled into fists at her side, her breathing increased while she glared at him. “You have no

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idea what you’re talking about,” she hissed, and shoved her way around him. But he grabbed her arm, forcing her to turn and look at him. “Then explain it to me. Explain why you have so much power backing you.” She knew then that Trent Dar had managed to tap into her conversation with her father. This was news best kept to herself for the moment. “Why? Why should I explain anything to you?” she asked, and then blurted out before she could stop herself, “Do you want to join me?” Trent didn’t answer right away. His grip didn’t slacken, and he gave her a hard, cold stare. She imagined such a look would intimidate many, but she wouldn’t cower in front of him—not now, not ever. Black eyes studied her, shrewd and searching. What was he looking for? She allowed him his time, letting the silence grow between them, while his expression hardened, his jaw ground tight while the smallest of muscles twitched at the base of his jawbone. “I’ll give that some thought,” he told her, and then released her arm, walking past her toward the landing bay. Once again the sinking feeling that he would leave, that she would never see him again, sank through her leaving a heavy feeling in her gut. Chapter Ten

Pahr must have crawled in to sleep with her during the night. He never had liked sleeping alone, and Dawn guessed Rayn must have chosen Reen for her lover the night before. She lifted his arm gingerly off of her waist, where it rested heavily, and scooted out of the bed. Dawn and the others had lived their lives being told who to sleep with, and when. Dawn relished her freedom, having fought every day against the oppressed life she’d been born into. The others weren’t doing as well. She knew that. Pahr and Reen had never complained about who they had to fuck, or how, or when. Dawn didn’t understand then why they never craved independence. Nothing and no one would take away the life she had now. And she conceded the Bortan had a hand in offering her that. But their price was too high. They would enslave her once again if she didn’t fight them until the bitter end. Padding barefoot into the main control area, she shook off the sleep that still surrounded her thoughts, knowing something had just woken her up. She spotted Trent already at her control panels. He maneuvered his fingers easily over the buttons, as if he’d worked there always, appearing right at home. She would have asked what he was doing, but simply watching him stole her breath away. He looked better now than he had in her dreams through the night. Sitting there in the command chair, his expression intent on whatever program he worked, her mouth went dry staring at his bare chest, the loose-fitting pants that tied at his narrow waist. Dark hair sprinkled over his chest, covering muscles that looked dangerous even relaxed. His profile was more than impressive. Black hair, darker than a starless night, bordered his brooding expression. She licked her lips, telling herself to quit gawking. He wasn’t wasting a night’s sleep over the

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programs of her ship. She had little doubt that he already knew how to run everything. Trent didn’t bother to look up when Dawn entered the control room. Her presence immediately made his body tighten, need swarming through him. No matter how he argued with himself that he didn’t need her in his life, his body begged to differ. After spending an hour discussing matters at hand with Por Gree he’d been ready for some serious downtime. He’d almost sent the Poltarian who’d been sleeping with his arms and legs wrapped around Dawn, flying across the room when he’d checked on her. But when the alarm sounded, announcing visitors outside, he’d simply walked up to her, sleeping so soundly, and given her a gentle shake. Then he’d returned to the computers. It had done him good to see what he’d seen though. Dawn had grown up in a different society, as a sex slave. Jumping from one partner to the next was probably as natural to her as breathing air. But it wasn’t natural to him. He wouldn’t have a woman in his life who wasn’t loyal to him. Growling without realizing it, he commanded his thoughts to stay focused. It had been a damned good thing that he wasn’t able to sleep after discovering another man in her bed. Had he, no one would have noticed when unexpected company had shown up during the night. Dawn didn’t have the training to be stirred by the quick buzzes that sounded when the alarm activated. The equipment on Dawn’s ship was superb, but an alarm notifying its passengers of intruders in the area is only good when it’s heard. Dawn hadn’t stirred. More than likely worn out after having sex with him, then with her sex slave friend…lover—whatever the hell he was, she hadn’t stirred during the alarm. “What’s wrong?” Dawn asked, moving closer, too damned close. If he smelled sex on her he wasn’t sure he wouldn’t send her flying across the room. His muscles hardened, rage that was harder to control than he imagined surging through him as the scene of her sleeping with the Poltarian passed before his mind’s eye once again. Be it fortunate or unfortunate, she didn’t smell like she’d just fucked the shit out of the wimp in her bed. Her tousled, unbrushed hair could be from her just waking up, or from that asshole combing his fingers through it. He allowed himself only a moment to let his gaze travel down her. Those long bare legs were a gross distraction. The simple nightshirt she wore barely fell to her thighs. More than likely it was all she had on. If she bent over just slightly, he had a feeling she would display that adorable ass of hers to anyone behind her. He scowled, turning back to the controls. “You didn’t hear the alarm. We have company.” He made no preamble about the fact. She shouldn’t have slept through it. If she felt remorse over not hearing the alarm, she showed no sign of it. Her long black hair flowed down in front of her as she leaned against the panel, instantly pushing buttons—as if oblivious to him being there. “We can convert the screen to night vision,” she told him, reaching for the keypad in front of him. He gripped her wrist, maybe too hard, but he had a hard time controlling emotions that he shouldn’t be

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feeling in the first place. Damn it to the hells. He let go of her, quickly pushing the necessary buttons to convert the screen. She wasn’t his woman. No matter that he’d had wonderful sex with her—twice, he had no claim on her. “This is a TR-class Gren ship. I know how to work it.” He pushed the necessary buttons to convert the screen. “Good.” Dawn fought the wave of disappointment that the alarms hadn’t woken her. She must appear the complete fool to this man. There was no time to worry about that now. She glanced up at the screen. “They’re on foot.” The screen had taken on a red hue, black figures clearly visible through what looked like a red fog. The outline of the metallic bodies of the Bortan was clear. Dawn had no doubts who traipsed outside her ship. She left Trent’s side, hurrying around the main control area to the wall on the left of them that housed her artillery computers. “We can send out multiple fire and take them all out at once.” She was so excited her breath caught in her throat. The least she could do was show him that she knew how to run her ship. If he wanted to handle the controls—fine. She could take over the weaponry. This was the first time she’d used her weapons on this ship. The TR-class ship had the latest technology in defensive and offensive weaponry. But since she’d accepted the ship from her father’s merchant, at a steal for what it was worth, they hadn’t had to defend themselves. She brought up the screen that showed the different types of attack methods. Trent moved around the main control counter that housed the navigational computers. He grabbed Dawn when her fingers were inches from the screen. Wrapping his arms around her, he took her wrists, holding her hands together. “No,” he breathed into her hair, her body pressed so hard against his that for a moment it fogged his thoughts. He cleared them quickly. She wasn’t a trained warrior, but it was in her blood. Now was time for her first lesson. “We don’t fire.” She turned around forcibly in his arms, a passion for the fight burning in her gray eyes. “What?” she hissed. “What are you saying?” His heart swelled at the sight of her. So alive and ready to take on the Bortan. She showed no fear, no hesitation that the battle might get ugly. This woman was worth fighting for. He might have to teach her a thing or two, but he had a feeling he wouldn’t regret doing so. “Destroying them won’t help us at this point.” He gripped her arms, looking down into her face, seeing her confusion and her desire to conquer. It made her even more beautiful. “If they attack we will take them out. Don’t worry. But I doubt they will. It won’t take them long to determine they have just come upon a TR-class ship. They can’t defeat us. But they will note we are here and return. My guess is that they’re moving to a new location since we’ve destroyed their bases in Grok. We have the prime opportunity to learn where that is.” Dawn studied him for a minute. Never in all her life would she have guessed she would be working next to Trent Dar. Seeing him in action showed her how little she knew. But admitting that to him, when it was

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so apparently obvious at the moment, was more than she could stomach. She looked away from those penetrating black eyes, eyes that saw so much, knew more than she could even imagine, and forced herself to go with his line of thinking. Unfortunately, now she focused on his broad chest. Without a shirt, the dark hair that sprinkled over such well-defined muscles made her suddenly dizzy with need. She couldn’t think about that right now though. Taking out the Bortan mattered more than anything else. Her craving for Trent couldn’t interfere with that. “We should still prepare the ship for defense,” she said, getting her thoughts to focus at last. “Once they’re on their way, we can follow them on your glider.” “Agreed.” He let go of her, not moving, but reaching around her and pressing the buttons to prepare the attack program. There was no way he could move from her side. No matter that she had another man sleeping in her bed at the moment. Dawn was so alive with passion, with the desire to keep her planet safe, to protect others from the destruction of the Bortan. Her quick thinking, even though he knew he’d just embarrassed her, impressed him as much as her sultry body, barely clothed in her nightshirt. “I can do this.” She pushed him out of the way. This was her ship, damn it. She wouldn’t submit to him and let him run the show. “Go monitor their activity. Tell me if they get too close to the ship.” No one told Trent what to do. He ran all shows, always. Dawn had already turned her back to him, opening the program that he’d started to open. Part of him wanted to pull her back, tell her he was in charge. But he fought a smile. She stood up to him like many men he knew would never attempt. It appealed to him, he liked it. She still had a lot to learn, but he had a feeling teaching her would be a pleasurable experience. He walked back over to the main console, housed in the island counter in the middle of the room. Adjusting the controls, he broadened the view in front of them in the windows of the control room. A light flashed on his screen, telling him lasers were ready to fire. He glanced at Dawn, the outline of her body visible through her shirt. Those full round breasts and perfectly shaped ass hardened every muscle in his body. Her long bare legs and feet made her appear more vulnerable, not the warrior that he was learning was inside her. “Don’t you dare make a move unless I give the word,” he ordered, praying she would listen to him. They could take down the Bortan, wipe them from this planet. He could only imagine what Por Gree would say if he knew what Trent was doing right now. Taking action without clearing it through Command Center would piss him off in a second. Trent didn’t give a rat’s ass. There was no time to make contact. A sleepy Rayn appeared in the doorway. “What’s going on?” she asked, rubbing her eyes. Reen appeared behind her, putting his hand on her shoulder while he glanced from Trent to Dawn, worry creasing his forehead. “Stay where you are and don’t say a word.” Trent’s tone left no room for argument. Neither one of them moved.

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“Are we being attacked?” Pahr pushed in among Rayn and Reen, fear making his pretty face look pretty damned ugly. Something hardened inside Trent, something he didn’t like. One look at the pathetic man, and he couldn’t believe Dawn could have any interest in him. She was so strong, so willful. He had to remind himself that he’d seen Pahr in her bed, and swallow the bitter knowledge that Dawn wasn’t his woman. “We haven’t been attacked yet.” Dawn had a cold edge to her voice. She wouldn’t pamper them, regardless of what they’d already endured from the Bortan. “Go to Rayn’s room. It’s the safest place right now. Stay there until I say otherwise.” They looked like frightened children when they all turned, hurrying to the safe haven Dawn mentioned. She shook her head, not willing to dwell on the fact that they needed to be cared for, protected. They were all unable to face the reality that they needed to learn how to defend themselves. It frustrated her, but she didn’t have time to think about it now. What mattered now was monitoring the Bortan outside, and showing Trent she could work alongside him and not disappoint him. She might have grown up with Rayn and the men, but she wasn’t like them. The buttons she pressed on the panel in front of her were cool, usually a welcoming feeling. Controlling what was around her, and knowing as she moved around the helm that it was hers, often empowered her. But never had it been so real. Since the Bortan first attacked, she hadn’t experienced one-on-one combat with them. Her heart skipped a beat that she was about to embark on possibly a life-threatening mission. Suddenly the floor was too cold under her feet. A shiver raced through her. She could handle this. Gritting her teeth, she blew out a silent breath, glancing at the large windows in front of her. A handful of black figures huddled outside her ship. She couldn’t see the silver parts of their bodies on the night screen. But they would have them. Metallic arms, or chests, even tongues, distinguished the nasty race of half-man, half-machine. Icy chills crawled down her spine. “Better get dressed,” Trent said suddenly, almost making her jump out of her skin. She looked down, ashamed at how nervous the Bortan made her. She had to behave like a soldier. That was what Trent expected out of her. And she’d learned, ever since leaving Poltar, that others assumed that was her nature as well. The Gren in her had given her a reputation she’d enjoyed. Others who met her didn’t think of her as a spineless sex slave. They feared her on first glance, giving her the respect of a race she’d known nothing about until recently. She turned to look at him, but Trent had already hurried toward the landing bay, headed toward his own clothes. She hurried to do the same. Trent only left the controls for a minute. There wasn’t time to waste. The Bortan were plotting outside, and whether they attacked, or moved on their way, they needed to be ready. Adrenaline pumped through him, hardening his muscles, making his heart thud in his chest. Por Gree had ordered him to return to Command Center. “You’re chasing after a sex slave, Dar. That isn’t like you.” His commander was wrong. And he was getting tired of being told what to do by someone who didn’t

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have the entire picture. What mattered was bringing down the Bortan. There was too much politics where Command Center was concerned, too many fucking diplomats with their hands in everything. Dawn had an edge that she wasn’t aware of. She didn’t answer to anyone. She fell through the cracks. He envied her that. She wasn’t Gren. She didn’t appear Poltarian. And he had a feeling she’d discovered she could move in different circles because of her appearance, and the mystery about who she was. Trent guessed her father had seen this too. She would make an outstanding tool. Trent didn’t know Zahn Corl real well. But he wouldn’t allow the man to use his bastard daughter. He slipped into his pants, pulled his boots on and grabbed his shirt, sliding his arms through the holes while he hurried back to the helm of the ship. Dawn hurried back into the control room as well, her unbuttoned shirt flying open behind her. Pahr hurried behind her, his hands on her, helping her dress. Trent gripped the counter that housed the main computers, glaring at Pahr with so much ferocity, Dawn thought for a moment he looked like a cat, ready to pounce on its prey. “Pahr. Go.” She shrugged him off, gesturing him out of the room. She didn’t dare take her gaze from Trent’s. “He was simply trying to help.” “Don’t make him leave on my account,” he growled through gritted teeth. If the situation with the Bortan wasn’t so serious at the moment she would be flattered by his jealousy. Dawn imagined Trent would never admit to such a weak emotion though. “I told him to leave as a courtesy to you,” she spat back at him. “I thought you might not want other men seeing me naked. My mistake. Obviously it doesn’t matter to you in the least.” She hurried to button her buttons, daring to take her gaze from his and glance toward the main screen. There were no Bortans in sight. She wasn’t sure if her pounding heart came from telling Trent off, or wondering where the Bortan had disappeared. “He was already in your bed.” Trent was pushing buttons on the computer, moving too fast for her to see what he was doing. He didn’t look up at her, his expression hard and focused. “It’s a little late now for courtesies.” She moved around to stand next to him, noticing he was securing a force field around her ship. “Pahr doesn’t like to sleep alone. He isn’t accustomed to it. He crawled into bed with me after I fell asleep.” Trent gave no sign that he’d just heard her. “Let’s go,” he said, pushing one last button and then turning around toward the landing bay. He stalked toward his glider, Dawn’s words slowly digesting through his system. He still argued with himself that it didn’t matter what she did with the Poltarian. But damn it, he liked the idea that she might not have had sex with him. Pulling the glider around, he watched while she reached for the panel on the wall, pushing the buttons to open the large door. The warm night air wrapped around him. It did nothing to help the heat that slowly wrapped around his muscles, which were already clenched. He watched her tight ass and the way her pants hugged her curves. His cock bulged in his pants, while

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his gaze took in her long slender legs, legs that were perfectly made to wrap around a man’s neck. When she turned around her tongue darted over her lips, a gesture he was noticing she did when she was nervous. She stood tall, proud-looking, but her gray eyes swarmed with a dark hue, like a building thundercloud on a stormy day on Greneen. He extended his hand to her. “Come here.” Chapter Eleven

Dawn could take on the entire solar system nudged in between Trent’s legs like this. His hard body pressed against hers, his arms bracing her in as he reached from behind her to control the glider. She couldn’t think of anywhere she would rather be. “The scanner here tells me where our friends are,” he told her, his voice a brusque whisper against her cheek while he reached around her easily and pointed to the controls. Dawn was a tall woman. Growing up she’d always been much larger than the other children. As an adult, she towered over many men she knew. It was her Gren blood. Her black hair was always noticeable among the white-haired Poltarians. The others on Ryl Plantation scorned the seed that made her so different from them. Secretly she worshipped the fact that she wasn’t like the rest of them. Trent had no problem controlling the glider with her sitting in front of him. He made her feel intelligent, beautiful, and she sent a silent prayer to the gods that it would be a long time before she parted ways with this man. Knowing they could be equals, in and out of the bedroom, made her heart ache with possibilities. Not to mention the other aches distracting her. Her pussy was damp with need. Every time his arm brushed against her, the heat radiating through her from where his thighs pressed against hers, her entire body throbbed distractedly. What she wouldn’t do to fuck him again! “They are headed south of Ryl Plantation. That is barren land, rocky. The Bosha destroyed the area long ago from grazing.” She tried not to lean from side to side too much while the glider flew high. And she ached to lean back into Trent’s hard muscular body. Instead she leaned forward, his body surrounding her already creating an unbearable need in her. “It’s pretty isolated. I can see why the Bortan would go there to lick their wounds.” Trent knew it was probably time to check in with Command Center, let Por Gree know what was up. He wouldn’t back out of tracking them. And he sure as hell wouldn’t leave the battle. But finding where the Bortan had regrouped was too big to take on without backup. “Well, we aren’t going to give them time to regroup.” He glanced down at the small screen that displayed a topographical view of the land beneath them. His cock throbbed with the pulse of his heart, knowing mere fabric kept him from Dawn’s ass. She might as well be in his arms, she was snuggled in so closely. If it wasn’t for the fact that she sat rigid, her body almost shaking, he could have believed the moment almost intimate. But he guessed that adrenaline pumped through her, the ache for battle mounting inside her.

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“Look. There.” She pointed at the bleep that appeared on his screen, which showed life moving below. “Fly lower. They’re underneath us. We can take them out and still discover where it is they’re heading.” It was exactly what he had on his mind. Something about her giving orders had him gritting his teeth. She needed to learn who was in charge here. Yet at the same time, knowing she could think through battle procedures turned him on as much as her sultry body pressed against his did. He slowed his speed, lifting them up higher so that they wouldn’t be spotted. Dawn frowned when he adjusted their altitude but didn’t say anything. He watched her mouth form a thin line though, his attention staying on her profile while she looked down into the darkness. She glanced back at him when he pulled out his comm and wrapped it around his ear. “What are you doing?” she whispered, feeling silly for doing so but so wrapped up in the moment it seemed wrong to talk out loud. “Gree, this is Dar,” he said instead of answering her. He couldn’t help but rest his hand on her leg, giving her a reassuring squeeze when she looked at him, surprised. He had no idea how many Bortan lay ahead of them, though. They might need reinforcements, and he wanted them ready. Trent quickly gave Por Gree their coordinates. “There are almost a dozen Bortan headed on foot to an undetermined location. My guess is they are reassembling in an isolated part of the planet.” Dawn was all too aware of the heat from Trent’s hand on her leg. She twisted, cradled in his arm, watching him talk to his commanding officer. There was no way the Gren who was in charge of Command Center on Molten would approve of Trent being with her. She could only imagine his comments. Yet Trent had stayed. She held her breath, sure of the fact that he wouldn’t mention her presence with him now. “Don’t worry about me.” Trent wouldn’t be pulled out of this. As far as he was concerned, this was his mission, and they would fly by his rules. “What I need is several ships. Send them into orbit and have them contact me when they are in position. I’ll give coordinates at that time.” The steady beat of Trent’s heart pulsed through her, his body heat enveloping her like a shroud while she watched his face. He met her gaze, those black eyes not blinking as he seemed to stare deep into her soul. His hand caressed her leg, the only sign he offered that he was aware of how intimate their position was while he prepared them for battle. “Dawn Corl has a TR-class ship. We’ll use that.” He didn’t take his gaze off of her as he calmly mentioned her name to Por Gree. Those deep pools of gray swarmed with emotion while she watched him. Defiance and worry hardened her expression. He ached to press his mouth to her pouty lips, reassure her that he didn’t give a rat’s ass about her mixed heritage. She was more woman than any lady he’d ever known. Although a bit untamed, she made his cock throb when sex should have been the last thing on his mind. He had no intention of letting her get away any time soon. Dawn forgot to breathe. For a moment panic rushed through her. Ex-sex slaves didn’t own ships like that. She would be questioned, called a liar, detained and put through interrogations where she wouldn’t be able to tell the truth. And no lie could justify her owning such a ship.

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“That’s not open for discussion, Gree. Send me the ships and wait for further instruction.” With that, he pulled the comm from his ear. Never had she seen his expression so hard. His voice was deadly calm, cool and demanding. Dawn turned around, focusing on the controls although it was all she could do to actually see them. He had mentioned her to Por Gree, the highest-ranking Gren in the area. And from what she’d just heard, this wasn’t the first time her name had been mentioned. “Get your thoughts in order, soldier,” Trent whispered, almost seductively, in her ear. Chills rushed through her. “I’m fine,” she snapped, and she would be. It sucked that he read her so easily. She straightened, taking a slow deep breath, suddenly able to study the controls in front of her. Trent watched Dawn push the buttons on his control panel, noticing how her hands shook while she checked their coordinates. There would be questions later. But she would answer to him, not anyone else. That much he could ensure. Right now wasn’t the time to discuss it. He had every intention of knowing how she’d obtained her ship anyway. Whether or not he shared that information with Por Gree, he would decide after he learned the truth. Trent took over the controls, the small glider not needing more than one person to man it. He brought them down, knowing he needed to move quickly and then locate where they were headed. Taking the Bortan out now really only offered personal satisfaction. More than likely they had already communicated with their commanding officer, told him of Dawn’s ship. “Look. We’re picking up more life forms ahead of us.” Dawn pointed to the screen just as Trent swooped down and opened fire. Four of the Bortan fell before several others turned, aiming their lasers at him. The night opened with quick flashes of light as he fired again, his muscles hardening while several more of them dropped to the ground. They were close enough to the ground for Dawn to get a good look at them, their silver implants flashing distracting light as the Trent attacked them with laser fire. She could see the red eyes of one of them before his body crumpled to the ground. Her heart raced in her chest. She gripped Trent’s thighs, her palms damp while she gulped in air. The attack was over in seconds but the adrenaline still pumped through her body. Suddenly she felt too cramped inside the small glider. “We need to get back to my ship,” she said, wanting the security of what she’d come to consider home. She could defend herself better there, and they had just waged a small war. “In a minute. We’re going to find out where they are camped.” Trent sounded way too calm. It annoyed her that he was so relaxed behind her. She would never possess his irritating calmness. Trent had just killed ten men and his heart maintained its slow steady beat against her back. What she wouldn’t do for his warrior skills.

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Trent sped away from the dead Bortan on the ground. He wrapped his arm around Dawn and took her chin in his hand, turning her face to his. Her gray eyes were deep pools of wonder, her cheeks flushed, letting him know adrenaline pumped through her as hard as it did him. He claimed her mouth, impaling her with his tongue, feeling her heat, which only added to the fire that burned through him. She gasped, feeding him, arching against him like a cat craving attention. Twisting into him, Dawn’s breasts swelled against his rock-hard chest. Her nipples tingled, aching to be sucked on. Leaning against his arm that rested on the controls of the glider, his untamed strength rose through her, feeding her hunger. More than anything she wished they were anywhere other than where they were at the moment. She wanted to stretch out next to him, taste and touch him, glide her tongue over his body and consume him. It wasn’t fair that he brought her need to a boiling point. That in the middle of such action he would claim her mouth, gripping her face the way he did. Yet at the same time, an energy surged through her that she didn’t understand. Her heart raced so hard she would die if she couldn’t feed that energy. Confined in the glider, racing high over the ground, there was little she could do but try to keep her mind from drowning in a complete fog of lust. Tasting her made Trent feel more alive than he remembered feeling in a long time. He let go of her mouth, knowing he needed to stay focused, but unable to resist her, especially when the high from the attack surged so hard through his veins. The same rapid energy climaxed through her. He saw it in her eyes, her quickness of breath, the beautiful flush of her cheeks. Dawn looked down quickly, her lips wet from his kiss, the taste of him still in her mouth. She had to blink several times, fighting to regain her senses. His actions surprised her but fed the fiery pulse that already coursed through her. “Would you look at this,” Trent said, as if nothing had just happened. He’d let go of her face, slid his hand down the front of her, coming dangerously close to brushing her breasts before taking the controls with both hands once again. The kiss had lasted a mere second, and if it wasn’t for the taste of him lingering in her mouth, she would have wondered if it had even happened. Once again he was the cool, controlled Trent Dar, warrior—predator—more man than she knew what to do with. “We need to get back to my ship,” she whispered, staring in awe at what looked like a small city buried in a canyon beneath them. Even in the dark she knew there were hundreds of Bortan down there. “I’m curious why this wasn’t picked up on our scanners on Molten.” Trent turned the glider around, flying even faster now. “What’s that?” Dawn asked, pointing at the small screen on his panel. “Company. Hold on.” Trent pushed the glider to full capacity, tearing out of there so fast the machine shook underneath and around her. Sweat beaded on Dawn’s skin as she looked around them into the blackness of the night. She saw nothing, but they were being pursued. The screen in front of her now showed three bleeps of red light narrowing in on them.

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“We’ve got to make it,” she whispered, willing her ship to be closer, knowing they were no match for any Bortan ship that might attack. In this glider, they were way too vulnerable. Trent’s body was hard as stone. He was so solid, quiet and sure of himself. Dawn fought a tremble that threatened to consume her body. She clenched her muscles so hard they hurt, more than aware of everywhere Trent touched her. His muscular arms pressed against hers while he worked the controls. Corded muscles in his legs pressed against her outer thighs. His rock-hard chest pressed against her back. She could feel the heat from his breath burning against her cheek. Wrapped up against him was like having a security blanket against the evil around them. She wouldn’t be a liability to him though. There was no doubt in her mind that Trent would have no desire to be with a woman who confined him, brought him down, or proved to be nothing but trouble. She had to be strong. The Bortan had surrounded her before, brought death to her doorstep. She’d lived through that experience, and she would live through this one too. Her fingers shook and were damp with perspiration when she reached for her comm in her pocket. “Rayn.” She called her ship, praying her three shipmates, her only “family” left in this solar system, well, shy of a father she didn’t know—wouldn’t fall apart on her when she was so close to panic herself. “Rayn,” she said again. Finally Rayn answered, sounding sleepy. She couldn’t believe the woman had gone back to sleep when destruction loomed around them. “Go open the holding bay doors. We’re coming back.” She managed a calm, relaxed tone. Rayn would cooperate better if she didn’t sound too excited. She cut the transmission after hearing Rayn agree without ceremony. Trent clamping down on her, his muscles constricting while one hand protectively went to her stomach, was the only clue Dawn had before a flash of light blew up the night sky next to them. “Shit!” She screamed and ducked, making the glider swerve slightly underneath her before she could control her actions. Trent said nothing. His grip around her waist tightened protectively as he navigated the machine with one hand. “They’re attacking us.” She sounded like a blubbering idiot, no better than her crewmates. Dawn searched the skies on either side of them, her heart racing so hard she thought it would explode in her throat. Another explosion that seemed to be right on top of them rocked the entire glider. She would have bounced off of the seat if Trent didn’t have such a tight hold on her. “We’re going down,” he said as calmly as if nothing at all were out of the ordinary. “We’ve been shot?” She looked frantically at the controls, her mind whirling out of control. Too many things were going on at once. “Yes,” he said.

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It couldn’t end like this. She wouldn’t die at the hand of the Bortan. There had to be something they could do, some way they could fight back. Her heart pounded in her head, a ringing starting that echoed through her ears. Everything around them was black except for the illuminated screen on the control panel in front of her. And it didn’t seem to make any sense. “I can land this thing, but it’s going to be rough.” Trent’s words sounded like they came through a tunnel. The ground seemed to swallow them up, the rough vibration grinding under her feet and reverberating through her body. When the dome came up over them, the hot night air made it hard to breathe. Dawn almost fell off of the glider, strong hands stabilizing her before she could go to her knees. “Get to the ship. Now.” Trent’s tone was stern. What? Where was her ship? She shoved strands of hair away from her face, fighting to get her bearings. “Run. Now!” he yelled at her, realizing she was in shock. Trent didn’t have time to help her through the trauma, though. A Bortan carrier flew down toward them, riddling the ground nearby with the small launched missiles the Bortan were known to use. They meant business. Like that surprised him. He pulled the Rodner free from the side of his damaged glider and hoisted it to his shoulder. “Get that ship of yours started and prepare for attack,” he yelled. Dawn noticed her ship not too far away and started running toward it. It seemed like the field got bigger the faster she ran. She could hear the carriers flying over her, which brought back the memories of the first time the Bortan attacked her planet. Her legs were like jelly. How she managed to make it to her ship, she had no idea. An explosion sounded behind her just as she slid into her landing bay. The doors shut behind her with a strong whoosh. “What’s happening?” Rayn cried out, immediately running into Dawn’s arms. “Open those doors back up.” Dawn pushed Rayn away, ignoring the frantic look on her friend’s face. “Trent is right behind me.” She pushed the buttons on the panel herself, staring hard into the darkness that appeared when the silver doors slid back open, willing Trent to run through the broadening entrance. He hurried into the loading bay a minute later. “Shut the doors,” he ordered, barely acknowledging any of them as he hurried into the main control room. Dawn pushed the button to shut the doors and hurried to follow. She ignored her crewmates, if that was what she could call her lifelong friends, and assumed the position at the artillery panel when Trent took the helm. The engines roared to life, making the walls and floor vibrate with the secure hum of life. Dawn had her wits about her now, feeling the fool for her behavior when she’d been on the glider. She’d panicked, plain and simple. Her ship enabled her confidence to return, but she worried she’d ruined her image in Trent’s eyes.

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Preparing her missiles and lining up all lasers, Dawn glanced Trent’s way. His calm stance made her blood burn through her veins. What she wouldn’t do for his warrior qualities, to be strong and self-assured, confident in all matters. Straightening, she stuck her chin out, doing her best not to dwell on how powerful and just plain damned sexy he looked standing at the controls of her ship. Trent adjusted his comm to his ear while lifting the ship off the ground. The Bortan would fucking go down tonight, once and for all. They had rallied into that canyon, making themselves a perfect target for some serious house cleaning. They hadn’t anticipated he’d find them so quickly. The Bortan figured they had time to regroup. He’d surprised them being on Dawn’s ship. More than likely they had figured out who they were doing battle with. Well, more power to them. They were trapped in that canyon, and now was time for them to die. Doing a quick scan, he found the ships he’d demanded in orbit. Damn good thing Por Gree hadn’t let him down. Command Center would lose him if he wasn’t given free rein on this mission. He punched in the necessary coordinates and then opened communications quickly, giving the location of the Bortan. “We’ve got them on our ass.” The thrill of the fight rang through in Dawn’s voice. “Fire at will.” He watched her long black hair sway just above her ass when she turned and reached for the panel. Her profile showed the glow in her expression. The way she licked her lips when the screen lit up with light, her gray eyes widening, a smile slowly appearing. Her Gren blood soared through her, the love for battle in her nature. He wondered how she’d managed a life of slavery when she so obviously appeared at home as the aggressor, strong and willing to learn how to take what she wanted. “Damn good shot,” he told her when the Bortan ship exploded on screen. He’d almost forgotten about the Poltarians hovering in the doorway of the control room until Rayn cheered. “Yay, Dawn! You got rid of them.” Reen clapped his hands together, his white hair making his expression appear almost childish when he grinned from ear to ear. “Yes, it was.” Dawn ignored the others, Trent being the only person in the room she could focus on. She would make him see that she had it in her to take on battle. He would know that she could stand by him, fighting to the end. The way his black eyes glowed when he praised her made her tummy do flip-flops. Once this battle was over, she would see to it that she got some serious alone time with this man. She needed him desperately at the moment. The molten fire that had been creeping through her while cuddled next to him on the glider now raged into a burning flame of lust. “We’re coming over the canyon where the Bortan are now,” Trent said into his comm, unable to look away from Dawn. Never had he seen a woman so alive from battle. He saw in her what raged through his own blood. The sweet taste of victory would be theirs. He could feel it in his bones. And once they took the Bortan out,

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he was going to fuck Dawn silly. The woman was consuming his thoughts. No matter how focused he was on leading them into the fight, his cock wouldn’t relax, not with her so near. He had to be inside her soon, or he wouldn’t be able to think at all. “That’s a hell of a ship you got there, Dar.” The commander of one of the ships Por Gree had sent out didn’t hide his sarcasm. Trent didn’t give a rat’s ass what they thought of Dawn, or her ship. He knew any of them would give his right eye to man a TR-class ship. “Focus on the mission,” he ordered, refusing to respond to such a flippant comment. “We’ve got them all rounded up below in that canyon. Let’s make this a clean easy job and be done with it.” “I’ve got two ships from Command Center on my screen.” Dawn had moved over to the communications panel, plotting the course to take the ship toward the canyon. “And the Bortan should be appearing on screen now.” She looked up at the large windows in front of them, adjusted for darkness, even though the suns were slowly creeping over the horizon. “We’ve got Bortan ships coming in around us.” Trent remained at the helm, watching Dawn when she hurried back to the weapons control. “Ready to attack,” she told him, her back to him while her fingers posed over the buttons. “Now,” he said, and then watched the view in front of them when one of the Bortan ships blew up in the sky. They had the Bortans out of the sky within minutes, thanks to the quick reload power in Dawn’s ships. The other two ships opened fire on the canyon. The Bortan were no match for the attack. Not only were they not prepared, they hadn’t expected to do battle with a ship as quick as a TR-class Gren ship. None of this league were housed on Molten. “Dar,” Por Gree’s voice bellowed through the comm. “I want you in my office immediately.” Chapter Twelve

Dawn realized she’d never been alone on her ship since she’d brought it back from Greneen. The first thing she’d done after obtaining it was to find any survivors from Ryl Plantation. On the same note, Rayn, Pahr and Reen hadn’t been off of the ship since she’d found them on Poltar. The three of them had been excited to get a tour of Molten when the lady Gren officer had offered to escort them. Their parting smiles assured her they were happy. Meanwhile, Dawn felt like a caged animal. Her ship couldn’t dock on Molten, the landing area wasn’t designed for a ship of her size. But she’d been ordered to stay in orbit, and she knew the tracking devices locked on her ship would trigger the alarm if she broke orbit. At the same time, she wasn’t sure how much longer she could stand orbiting the manmade moon waiting to see what they decided to do to her.

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Some “thank you” this was after she’d used her ship to eliminate the Bortan. It had been over a day since Trent had left with the others to go down to the surface. She wouldn’t leave her ship. And she had no desire to be interrogated, which was exactly what would happen the second she walked into Command Center. If she stayed here much longer though, she would absolutely go nuts. She almost jumped when her comm, which sat on the table in the kitchen area of the ship, began beeping. “This is Dawn,” she said after affixing it to her ear. “Dawn. Go to your control panel. I’ve stabilized a secure channel.” Her father’s voice was a welcoming sound. It didn’t take long for her to download the flight path he sent her. Zahn Corl was arranging her secure passage to Greneen. The only catch—she had to leave immediately. “Don’t worry about the tracking beam on your ship. We can send in false orders to assure you aren’t followed. I will ensure the safety of your friends from Ryl,” her father told her. “Is there anyone else you need to protect?” Dawn stared at the small image of her father. His black eyes stared back at her. She guessed he was asking about Trent Dar, but she wouldn’t ask. Trent didn’t need her protection. She licked her lips, her mouth suddenly too dry. A slow knot twisted unpleasantly in her gut while a foul taste rose in her throat. “No. There is no one else.” She plotted the course, knowing this might be her only chance to safely leave Molten, leave Poltar, finally put her life of slavery completely behind her. She was sick to her stomach, feeling no thrill of adventure whatsoever when she pulled out of orbit. Her father would secure her passage. Curiosity had her wanting to know how he managed it. But she didn’t have that relationship with him yet. And it would be easier to pick his brain in person anyway. After plotting the course her father had given her, there wasn’t much for her to do—again. And sleep wasn’t an option. The second she lay her head down, images of Trent, those strong arms, that powerful body, his calm presence, swarmed through her thoughts like a plague. She couldn’t quit thinking about him. Greneen was the fifth planet in the Ryclox solar system. Small and a soft green from space, Dawn enjoyed the view in front of her when she settled into orbit. She didn’t wait long before landing instructions were issued. This was Trent’s home planet. Thoughts of him continued to overwhelm her as she navigated her ship, taking it off of autopilot so she could bring it into the landing bay. “Permission needed for boarding,” the automated female voice said over her speakers, startling her. Dawn glanced down at her screen. Her father wasn’t supposed to meet her here, his schedule wouldn’t allow it. He’d made arrangements for her to have transport to the housing he’d arranged. A chill rushed over her. What would it mean for her father to come greet her in person? A wave of nervous energy made her fist her hands. She needed to learn to be strong, stand before her father without feeling so damned unsure about herself. When she’d been a slave she never had problems standing up to her owners, defying them in any way possible. As a free woman, she should have those same guts.

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“Permission granted.” Dawn left the control center for her landing bay, pressing the buttons on the wall for the doors to open. She rubbed her hands along her pants. They were suddenly damp with perspiration. Swallowing a lump in her throat, she gave herself a quick lecture—stand tall, no emotion, give no indication of her feelings. Trent Dar didn’t say hi when he walked onto her ship. In fact, he didn’t look happy to see her at all. From the first glance she saw of him, he looked positively outraged. Trent reached the panel where Dawn stood and pressed the buttons to close the bay and lock it. “I didn’t tell you that you could leave.” He gripped her hair, pulling her head back so that he could stare down at her with his black, non-blinking eyes. His lips formed a thin line, that and shadows under his eyes were her only indication that he wasn’t in a good state of mind—far from it. “How are you here?” Dawn couldn’t breathe. He was the last person she’d expected to see walk through her doors. “Why did you run away from me?” Her surprise at seeing him simply fueled his fire. He’d been so pissed off when word reached him that she’d broken orbit, disobeyed orders from Command Center, and him, and fled to Greneen. Trent pressed into her, pushing her against the wall behind her. He needed to question her, learn the line of thinking behind those deep pools of gray that stared up at him. There was no way she could think straight with his body stroking hers. Those bulging muscles, his scent, the way he looked down at her. She couldn’t handle it. Another second in his arms and she would beg him to fuck her. And the last thing he would ever see out of her was docile behavior. She would never submit to anyone—not even Trent. Pushing away from him, she hurried out of the landing bay. “What are you doing here, Trent?” she asked as she moved into the control room. Walking away from him allowed her a second to breathe, to regain control of the situation. “And don’t give me this shit about running from you. I didn’t run from anyone.” He was closer behind her than she realized. Trent gripped her shoulder, spinning her around to face him again. “I told you not to leave. You disobeyed me.” He took both of her shoulders in his grip, giving her a slight shake. It was all she needed to completely clear her senses. She brought her hands up quickly, smacking his arms away from her. “I don’t take orders from you,” she hissed, pointing her finger at his face. “You don’t own me. I am free to do what I want.” The last thing he would be able to stand was Dawn racing through the solar system, giving no thought to him. He’d been nuts from the moment he found out she’d broken orbit. Defying Command Center didn’t bother him. But he’d told her he would be back. She knew he’d planned to return to her. Not even Command Center had mattered to him when he’d learned she was gone.

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He’d given them all the information he’d planned on anyway. When word reached him that Dawn was gone, he’d simply walked out of the debriefing room. There had been questions—demands even. But Trent would have none of it. He’d pulled the insignia displaying his rank off of his shirt, and tossed it at Por Gree. The astonished man’s face was the last thing he’d seen before leaving to obtain a T-class ship. It wasn’t as fast as Dawn’s, and not as large or comfortable. But he’d pushed it as hard as he could to make it to Greneen before Dawn reached her father. He would interrogate her first. He would know Dawn’s mind before her father had a chance to get his hands on her. And he would know Zahn Corl’s mind before allowing Dawn to get close to him. “You will not gallivant around without telling me what you are doing.” He fought the urge not to grab her again, balling his hands into fists at his side. “You don’t own me,” she yelled, her temper consuming her. She poked him in the chest, the simple touch sending a rush of charged energy through her. She dared to stand up to him. Trent Dar needed to learn right now that she wouldn’t be his slut. She wouldn’t wait for his word as to whether she could move or not. “I’m not some slave to order around, or to sit obediently until you decide you have time for me.” “There is a difference between being a slave, and simply showing respect. You knew where I was, what I was doing. You had to have known I wouldn’t stand for you running without knowing what you were getting into.” He wouldn’t lose his temper. As much as she pushed him, he wouldn’t lose control and force her submission. The woman was out of control, running into a beehive she knew nothing about. It didn’t surprise him when he’d unburied the scrambled transmission between her and her father. But until he knew the man’s motives, he wouldn’t allow Dawn to be controlled by the man. And that was what was happening here. “Respect is earned.” She wanted to scream at him, pound his chest until he showed a little emotion. His calm tone, his strong manner as he stood so coolly in front of her made her want to fly into a rage, force his hand into showing a little emotion. “And I had no idea what you were doing or when you would come back. Did you think I’d just stay in my ship all alone waiting submissively until you had time for me?” “I was defending you as the rightful owner of this ship, defending your knowledge of the Bortan.” He saw how she shook with emotion. It hadn’t surprised him a bit that she struck out at him with her frustration. He didn’t doubt sitting and waiting had made her nuts. But she had so much to learn, and sometimes biding her time instead of jumping the moment she was told to, would save her ass. He pulled her into his arms, feeling her heart race in her chest when he embraced her. “Why did you run here the second your father beckoned? Is it time for you to report in to him?” Dawn went still in his arms. It shouldn’t surprise her that he knew about her father’s transmission. She wondered if there was anything Trent didn’t know. Emotions surged through her that were too intense to handle all at once. “I don’t report to anyone.” Already he’d witnessed her inexperience in battle. He’d seen her panic during the attack on the Bortan. Somehow she needed to show him she was strong, capable of taking on life by herself. That mattered so much to her that he realize she didn’t need to be taken care of. “There was nothing for me on Poltar.”

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“But there was someone there for you,” he whispered into her hair, his hands moving over her back. “Don’t ever take off without me again.” The way he caressed her, branding her skin wherever he touched, made her want to melt at his feet. The hardness of his body pressed against hers. He was so damned strong, so powerful, so incredibly sure of himself. Looking up at him, adjusting herself in his arms so she could see his face, she almost went weak in the knees when she saw the intensity of his emotions swimming in his gaze. “Damn it. Trent.” She couldn’t take it anymore. Moving her arms, she embraced his neck, pulling his face closer to his. Her hand tangled through his thick black hair, holding tight while she pulled him closer to her so that she could kiss him. Trent had no intention of protesting. He loved her aggressive nature. She was so damned defiant, a wild woman in dire need of training. She’d been given power, and along with her intense beauty she was an incredible weapon. But not one to be abused. She might not see it, but he did. Trent would ensure she kept her freedom, and that she wasn’t abused. Claiming her mouth when she demanded his, he pulled her hard against him. The gasp she let out into his mouth sent him over the edge. She wore the black attire commonly worn among Gren women, and the simple pullover shirt she’d tucked into her black pants loosened easily when he pulled on it. He devoured her, the energy she returned in the kiss feeding the fire that raged through him. Tugging her shirt free from her pants, he brushed over the smooth skin of her waist. Her breathing quickened as he stroked her smooth skin, felt her heat scald his hands. “Woman. You’re on fire.” Gripping her hips, he lifted her onto the counter that housed the controls for the ship. She brought her long slender legs up and he took hold of one of her boots, pulling it free and then tossing it behind him. He did the same with the other boot and then ran his hands down her thighs. The sultry look she gave him, her long black hair falling over her full breasts had his cock raging for freedom in his pants. “I didn’t like waiting so long for you to fuck me.” She spread her legs around him, pulling her closer to him until his swollen cock pressed against her throbbing pussy. “And I didn’t appreciate being left in orbit around that damned moon.” She saw his eyes glaze over with need, felt how hard he was for her. The ache deep inside her was so strong. But she had him where she wanted him now. He would hear her words. She pulled at his shirt, noting for the first time that he didn’t wear the official uniform of a commanding Gren officer. He was dressed like a Gren citizen, and she tugged at the black shirt, sliding it up until she exposed rippling muscles. She ran her fingers through his chest hair, the coarseness making her want to strip quickly, rub her breasts against him. “You’re the one who left me.” Trent reached for the button on her pants, undoing it quickly and then lifting her ass off the counter so that he could slide her pants down her legs. He tossed them behind him too, unable to take his gaze from her shaven pussy, moisture making the smooth skin glisten.

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Dawn had never wanted a man to touch her. She’d fought it every time the master at Ryl Plantation suggested she entertain one of his visitors. In the end, he’d given up, and she’d resorted to serving meals, taking care of the young ones. But not now. Now this was whatshe wanted. More than anything in this solar system, she wanted Trent Dar. “And you came after me,” she acknowledged, knowing he wanted her too. “Damn straight.” He reached for her shirt, needing to see all of her. Pulling it from her and tossing it with her pants, he stared at her naked body, perched on the helm. Her long legs wrapped around his waist. “I have no intention of letting you go.” “Take your clothes off. Prove that to me.” She was on fire, needing him so bad. He didn’t argue with her, didn’t suggest she do the task for him. His shirt came off first, revealing his powerful torso, corded muscles moving under his flesh when he moved to take off his boots, and then his pants. His cock was engorged, full and ripe, hard as rock as it throbbed in front of him. “I think you have that proof already, woman. And if you weren’t so damned stubborn, you would see it.” He bent in front of her then, running his fingers along the inside of her thighs, tickling her, sending chills rushing through her body. “Gods! Trent!” She let her head fall back, fighting to not slide onto the controls of the ship when he kissed the most sensitive part of her body. His tongue lapped at her juices. His warm mouth covered her cunt, sucking gently on her tender folds. She dug her fingers into his hair, holding him against her pussy, exploding as his tongue dipped into her heat. Trent growled, the vibration sending her over the edge. He fucked her with his tongue, gliding in and out of her velvety heat. He was like a starving man. The more she came, the more he wanted to devour her. She was so damned wet, her smooth folds covered with her cream. His cock hung heavily between his legs, burning with fever, craving to bury itself inside her tight holes. Lifting her legs, pulling her ass off the table, he ran his tongue from one hole to the other. “Trent! Yes! Damn it.” She squirmed when he stroked the sensitive flesh around her ass. He raised himself over her, nibbling on one of her puckered nipples. She wrapped her arms around him, her legs clamping down around his waist. But she couldn’t move her pussy to his cock. He controlled the situation. She would have him when he said so. “Don’t run from me again,” he whispered into her mouth as he kissed her. She gasped for air, tasting herself on his lips. “I won’t.” She couldn’t fight him right now. He wasn’t playing fair but she couldn’t do anything about it. Need swirled through her with too much intensity to defy him at the moment. “Trust me,” he said, and then positioned his cock at the entrance of her cunt. “I will have your trust.” She blinked, hearing him ask for trust. She’d never trusted a damn soul as long as she’d been alive. Not

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even her mother. And she’d loved her mother. He didn’t ask for obedience. He didn’t demand her submission. He wanted trust. “I’ll try,” she conceded, and then her eyes fluttered shut when his cock slid deep inside her. He knew he’d gotten the most honest answer he could get from her. And that was a start. She wasn’t his. Not completely—not yet. But he was willing to make the effort to show her she needed him. Because damn it to all of the hells, he needed her. He thrust deep inside her, moist heat surging through his cock, flooding his senses, filling him with a need he wasn’t sure he could conquer. There was no getting enough of Dawn. Her tight cunt wrapped around his cock, tight pussy muscles gripping him, urging him deeper into her fire. Trent moved slowly at first, every muscle in his body hard with constraint. He watched her head fall back, her long black hair fan around her. Full breasts, so perfectly round and swollen, bounced up and down, tormenting him as he built up momentum. She soaked him with her cum. It trickled down his balls, torturing him, coating him while she exploded again. He loved watching her mouth form a perfect small round shape, her lips puckered with her silent cry when she orgasmed. Her hands were spread on either side of the counter, bracing herself, her body arched in front of him displaying what had to be the most perfect woman in the solar system. “You are so damned wet,” he breathed, pulling his cock out of her, seeing her white cream wrapped around his shaft. “No. Give me more,” she whimpered, reaching for him, not wanting him to stop. He’d been stroking her into paradise and she didn’t want it to ever end. Trent watched her as he fingered her cunt. It was on fire, drenched and pulsating with a heat that would suffocate him. Running his fingers down to her ass, he watched her eyes open when he pressed against her tight entrance. He moved his fingers again to her cunt, lubing his fingers with her cum, and then moving again to her ass. Dawn knew what he wanted. She’d never given her ass to anyone. Hell, she’d never given her body to anyone—not willingly. Letting out a breath, she watched the desire etched in his expression. His finger coated her ass, the tender flesh puckering against his touch. It tickled and at the same time created a pressure inside her, an intensity that grew while he dipped his finger into her dark crevice. The growing ache inside of her enflamed out of control when he finger-fucked her ass. “Take me there,” she decided, wanting to know if his cock would feel better than his fingers, and having a feeling that it probably would. Trent watched the muscles in her tummy constrict while he coated her ass. It was a tight hole, and he knew he needed to take time to make it moist, soften the muscles so he wouldn’t hurt her. His cock throbbed eagerly, fighting with his brain, needing to be back inside her. “Have you been fucked in the ass before?” he asked. She shook her head. “No. No, but please.” Need burned through her so hard she could hardly speak. “No one’s touched you like this?” He dipped his finger into her ass again, smoothing her cum against the

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entrance. It was so damned tight that he was inclined to believe her. But for a sex slave, to never have taken it in the ass, it was a tough one to swallow. “No interrogations. Just fuck me.” She bucked against his hand, sliding his finger deeper into her tight virgin hole, a sharp pain that quickly eased some of the pressure building in her that stole her breath. She stared up at him wide-eyed. “Have they?” He wanted to know everything about her, every time another man had touched her. “No,” she cried out, riding his finger now, thrusting her hips up and down while he hovered over her, holding his hand in place. He allowed her the small pleasure from his finger, moving it slowly in and out of her ass while feeling her muscles loosen, grow accustomed to him being inside of her there. “My cock is much bigger than my finger. It will hurt at first.” He believed her. It amazed him that her sexual experiences were so limited and he made a mental note to question her further about it later. Dawn remembered hearing the other slaves swear how wonderful anal sex was. She’d never believed them, thought them fools. But now, the way Trent touched her, the fire he’d created inside her, the pressure that grew every time he thrust his finger in her ass, made her want to try it like she never had before. “I want you to fuck my ass.” She grabbed his face, pulling him to her, and kissed him. It wasn’t the aggressive demanding kiss they’d shared before. This time he moved over her mouth sensually, his fingers moving in and out of her cunt, and then back to her ass, continuing to moisten her hole while exploring her mouth tenderly with his tongue. Dawn couldn’t think straight. A tenderness she hadn’t seen yet in Trent surfaced while he fondled the most private part of her body. She wanted to see more of this side of him, know this man who was such a mystery, such a challenge. He was such a complex person. And even now, on the edge of her orgasm, she learned that he had a gentle side to him. He wouldn’t force anything on her, and he didn’t want to hurt her. “If it hurts, I’ll stop,” he promised, so amazed by her sexual curiosity and that part of her was in fact a virgin. Dawn watched his intent expression, his gaze never leaving hers, while he positioned his cock at her ass. She sucked in her breath. He was right, it was a lot bigger. His swollen cock head stretched her tight hole. “Trent,” she gasped, gripping his arms when he slid into her ass, filling her like she’d never been filled before. He came down over her again, showering her with kisses so gentle she wanted to cry. This was a man she’d never known before. He cared about her, didn’t want to hurt her. That meant more to her than she realized it would. Something shattered inside her at the same time the sharp pain rushed through her. She shuddered, unable to stop the tidal wave of desire that coursed through her.

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Trent began moving in and out of her ass, his cum-soaked cock easing the path while he buried himself inside her tight hole. She was so hot she’d burn him alive and he knew he wouldn’t last long inside her. “Do you like it?” he asked, a gentle whisper stroking her cheek. “I think so,” she told him, so many nerve endings going off inside her, so many new sensations rippling through her that she could hardly breathe. “Yes. Yes. It’s good.” She wanted him to go faster, fuck her harder. He moved too slowly. The burning sensation disappeared and a new feeling swarmed through her, a pressure growing that she ached to have released. She reached down, stroking her pussy, more cum soaking her fingers and dripping to her ass. Trent saw Dawn possibly for the first time, her true colors, her true nature. She was a woman eager to explore life, to take on the unknown, to embrace it. Nothing would hold her back, not even him. He fucked her harder, so turned on by this woman underneath him he could hardly stand it. His cock swelled inside her. She cried out, the sound so sensual it took over his senses. He exploded, filling her tight ass with his cum. And then easing out of her, he lifted her into her arms, her body damp against his. There was no way he could voice the feelings surging through him at the moment. And for once, Dawn seemed content to be quiet. Silently, he carried her into the shower. Chapter Thirteen

The cool air of Greneen felt good against Trent’s skin. He noticed Dawn kept her arms wrapped around her chest, the warmth of Poltar having made her blood thin. Her breasts pressed together, adding to her cleavage visible through her shirt. Getting used to the Gren climate would take a while. The planet wasn’t as bright as Poltar, being a fair distance from the twin suns that it orbited. While most habitants of the Ryclox solar system visited all the planets fairly regularly during their lifetime, Dawn wouldn’t have had that advantage. She squinted in the semi-dark afternoon, trying to take everything in. Trent knew since he’d docked officially and gone through proper debriefing, it wouldn’t take his family long to learn he was home. The traditional homecoming meal would be prepared. It would dishonor his family not to attend. There were matters that weighed on his mind though. Dawn had obtained the Bortan chips, sought him out and dumped them on him. She had a top-of-the-line ship, one her father had to have a hand in obtaining. And Zahn Corl would want to see Dawn soon. Whatever information she needed to give the man, Trent would hear first. “No one is carrying a weapon,” Dawn whispered, having resented leaving her own lasers at the landing bay after coming down to the planet on the carrier. “And all the women are in dresses.” They moved slowly through the busy streets of Bin, the small community that made most of its money off of tourists. Dawn looked from one window to the other, taking in everything she could while they hovered over the street filled with other carriers and gliders. Trent continued to stare ahead, either lost in thought, or simply indifferent to the community he’d probably seen hundreds of times.

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“It’s tradition.” Trent glanced at Dawn while she looked out of the window next to her. Her hair was still damp after showering and her clothing hugged her narrow waist and firm breasts. His cock stirred in his pants. Already, he wanted her again. “Greneen’s military orbits the planet. We have no need for defense here. And the women wear the customary dress when in public. At home or at work they would wear pants. The men wear capes in public. At home they would dress differently.” “So much tradition and customs,” Dawn mused, noting that even the shop signs were lined neatly above each store. Everyone appeared at peace, relaxed. Those who walked along the paths lining the stores showed no signs of stress. “You’re a race of hidden emotions.” Dense growths of trees, thick and twisted branches reaching toward the dark blue sky, contrasted the order of the town. “These are your people too.” She met his gaze with a broad smile this time, her emotions so raw, so natural. They belied her Gren appearance. “I know,” she said, not hiding how that pleased her. “When are you supposed to meet your father?” He noted suspicion, or was it worry, taint her expression before she looked down at her hands. “As soon as possible, I’m sure. He wasn’t planning on meeting me when I docked.” She looked out of the windows in front of her. “Is that where we are going?” “No. I have a home in Cran, a town not too far from here. We’ll go there first.” He hadn’t been home in quite a while and had made arrangements during docking for the house to be aired out for their arrival. More than likely, a messenger from the House of Dar would be there to greet them as well. That was customary. “You’re taking me to your home?” Dawn looked up at him wide-eyed, immediately curious what Trent’s home would look like. From what she knew of the man’s history, he couldn’t have been here anytime recently. He’d been too busy battling the Bortan. “I need to contact Zahn Corl then.” “Agreed.” Trent nodded to her comm attached to a clip on her belt. “Go ahead.” She fingered the comm, not releasing it. “I will…” she hesitated. She wished she knew what her father thought of Trent. There was no way he wouldn’t respect him, appreciate Trent for all of the efforts he’d made against the Bortan. But more importantly, what did Trent think of Zahn Corl? He hadn’t said he’d despised the man. Inhaling, she knew what mattered most right now was that she protect her own ass. She had no home, no way of providing for herself. And she wouldn’t simply go with Trent to his home because she ached for him. And damn it if she didn’t want him again already. Her body was tender from fucking like she never had before. Maybe it was from all the sex she’d deprived herself of over the years. And watching people fornicate around her so much. Maybe that was the reason she craved to be back in Trent’s arms, feeling his hard cock deep inside her. “What are you hiding, Dawn?” he asked, curious now why she didn’t want to call Zahn Corl in his

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presence. “Nothing,” she answered quickly, too quickly. Trent raised an eyebrow. “Then let him know you are with me. Tell him where you are going. Don’t give the man any reason to think you have secrets.” He was right—again. She needed to stand up to Zahn Corl the same way she did everyone else. “Maybe I should tell him to come see me.” There was only one problem. Zahn Corl wouldn’t want Trent Dar to know he instigated the theft of the Bortan chips. Her being known as a thief wouldn’t bother anyone. She stole for the cause of her people. She wasn’t sure how Trent would react if he found out who had backed the plot, or how she’d obtained them. Trent nodded, pleased that she had no intention of keeping him a secret from her father. Because he had no intention of keeping the knowledge from Corl. First chance he had, Trent planned on contacting the man himself. There was a matter of Bortan chips to discuss, among other things. They were out of Bin now, and Trent accelerated, flying higher off the ground as he headed toward Cran. Dawn secured her comm to her head and then took a breath before speaking her father’s name, which would activate the call. She was all too aware of Trent sitting next to her, giving her a side-glance while monitoring the controls of the glider. Heat burned through her with him next to her, close enough to sense his power, but far enough that she’d have to lean to touch him. Finding her father had been the highlight of her life. His apparent acceptance of her gave her confidence she didn’t know existed in her, allowed her to move among those who, if they’d known her life as a slave, would have treated her poorly instead of with respect. Her strong Gren looks aided in making others hesitate in mouthing off to her. Up until several days ago, that had been enough to make her happy, make her feel she could make something out of her life. But now, with Trent in her life, she wanted more. She wanted his respect—she wanted him. Dawn licked her lips, speaking her father’s name quickly into the voice-activated comm, refusing to let Trent see how nervous she was. “Where are you?” her father said in form of greeting. “On my way to Cran.” She wondered if her father knew Trent had a home there. Her tummy twisted in knots knowing she was dealing with two very powerful men here. “When would you like to meet?” “Your homecoming meal is planned for this evening. We can talk then.” His calm tone reminded her of Trent, a voice of authority, not accustomed to being questioned. “Homecoming meal?” she blurted out, a cold sweat suddenly spreading over her body. “For me?” “You are family, and you are coming home. It’s our custom, Dawn,” Zahn said, patiently.

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Trent reached out, gripping her leg. “Accept the invitation,” he told her quietly. “Bring Trent Dar along with you.” Zahn Corl made no qualms about the fact that he knew the two of them were together. “We will see you when the suns set.” With that he severed the connection, leaving her heart racing in her chest. “He wants you to come too,” she said, wondering what they would be walking into when they arrived at Zahn Corl’s home. “Good.” Trent wasn’t surprised that Zahn Corl would want to see him too. More than likely, Corl already knew the specifics of their attack of the Bortan on Poltar. And if the man’s contacts were as solid as Trent guessed, he probably knew he and Dawn had come down to the planet together. “Tell me about a homecoming meal.” Dawn didn’t want any surprises. “If a part of the family is gone and returns, a celebratory meal is prepared. They reenter into the family.” He didn’t know what Zahn Corl had in mind for his bastard daughter. If the man claimed her, then it would be Corl’s obligation to take her in, give her a home. After all, Dawn was a single woman. Grens stood true to century-old tradition. Families remained strong, united, the head of the house having ultimate say over the other family members. “I’m not part of his family though.” Dawn wrinkled her brow, frowning as she stared at the countryside that passed them, the dark shadows from thick rows of trees giving the area a mysterious quality. “Yes. You are his blood. The Corl family is powerful, strong. Zahn Corl will more than likely acknowledge you and you will take your place in the family.” Trent would have to research the Corl family line. One thing he would do when they arrived at his house. “Take my place?” She made a snorting sound. “I was a sex slave. And I won’t be enslaved again.” “It will do you well to get this slavery notion out of your head. You’re half Gren, half Poltarian. You’re a free woman and shall remain that way.” He glanced over at her. Long black strands surrounded her beautiful face. Her expression was serious, proud. Her gray eyes contrasted the picture making her even more alluring, the temptress. The way she ran her tongue over her lips, moistening them, making them glisten the way his cum would on her mouth, made him ache to take her in his arms. She was so determined to take this solar system on all by herself, and so convinced she would have a battle on her hands at every corner. It would be hard for her, being the bastard of Zahn Corl, and an ex-sex slave. Gaining respect would be a challenge. Dawn would be able to handle it though. In fact, he pitied the fool who stood in her way. His muscles hardened again at the thought that Zahn Corl would use her to further his plots. It was a touchy situation, especially if her father brought Dawn into his house. Trent would have to go through Corl just to see her. Somehow, he would see to it that she remained with him. The idea of leaving her at the House of Corl didn’t sit well with him. “You’re damned straight I’ll remain that way,” she said through her teeth, shooting him a side-glance. “So don’t get any ideas.”

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He took his time glancing at her, letting his gaze stroll down her body. Fire rushed through her, his penetrating stare making her want to slide closer, nuzzle into him, feel that hard body against hers. “I don’t have ideas. I have plans,” he told her, his gaze resting somewhere around her breasts. Dawn’s breath caught in her throat. She wouldn’t let him see how he unnerved her, sent her body into torturous flames, creating an aching need that throbbed furiously in her cunt. “Well, I have plans too,” she retorted, although for the life of her she couldn’t get her thoughts organized enough to know what she would do within the next five minutes. “What are your plans?” he didn’t hesitate in asking. She had several actually, the primary one meeting with her father. After that she’d dreamed of traveling, helping others who suffered as she had. She would need contacts and that was something she’d hoped to talk to her father about. But then she’d met Trent. Now she wasn’t sure what would happen. He’d chased her across the solar system, and then asked for her trust. That had boggled her brain trying to figure out what he meant by that. She had too much to sort out in her brain before she shared any of that with him. She returned his gaze, taking her time checking him out. From his dark gaze, down to his taut stomach, and then lower, staring at his crotch, before slowly letting her lashes flutter before looking him in the eyes, she took him in. This wasn’t a man to play with, and she knew she danced with fire. Dawn reached for him, running her finger over the hard bulging muscles in his arm. “Maybe I am deciding what to do with you.” Buildings began to appear around them. Trent slowed, lowering the carrier to the standard distance flown over ground while in a community. “Sounds like I’m hindering your next course of action.” And he would know what that next plan of action would be. She leaned toward him slightly, letting her fingers trace a path over his thigh. “That’s not what I meant,” she whispered suggestively. Trent grabbed her hand, preventing her from getting any closer to his cock. “You’re playing with fire,” he growled, her touch charging him with waves of hard-core lust and need. He focused on navigating the carrier. Cran hadn’t changed much since he’d left. A few more Jaca trees had sprouted, but that was about it. It took no effort flying over the streets to the House of Dar. What stole his concentration was the steady pulse in Dawn’s wrist, her gentle bone structure, which contradicted her tough exterior. Born to be a warrior and forced to be a slave, she was a mixture of predator and prey. The moisture on her palm was the only physical indication that leaving the only home she’d known made her nervous. He’d been away from his home for a while, fighting alongside friends who lived on the planet Benox before joining the military. Being the firstborn son, the homecoming meal would be an occasion. His sister led the House of Dar right now. From what he’d heard, she managed the home well, keeping the Dar

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name strong. Holding Dawn’s hand in his, her warm soft skin doing a number to his senses, he fought to keep his thoughts straight, not let her seduce him instead of telling him what she had in mind when coming here. And if those prodding fingers of hers got anywhere near his cock, he would lose his ability to focus on anything other than fucking her again. “I know what I’m doing,” she purred, straightening her fingers in his grasp, managing to stroke his thigh again before he pulled her hand to his chest. “And so do I.” He gave her a hard look. “You will tell me why you came here, what your intentions were when you left so suddenly for Greneen.” Trent slowed and turned down the road toward the House of Dar. The homes that were scattered around the rolling hills owned by the family were similar in structure. “This is where you live?” she asked, ignoring his demand and looking out his window toward the large house in the distance. It seemed to ramble on forever, made of pale wood with large windows that indicated there were several floors. It was a prestigious-looking house, fitting to Trent. “That is the House of Dar. When I allowed my sister to take charge of the house, I moved into one of the dwelling homes.” He offered no further explanation. “What will you say to your father?” She looked in front of her when suddenly he stopped the carrier. Letting go of her hand, he released the doors, the cool air flooding her senses when they slid open on either side of her. Ahead of them was a small home, simple. Built of the same material as the larger house, it sat hidden among a cluster of small trees, their branches thick and twisted giving them a gnarled look. Through the trees she saw several other houses similar to this one. The door to the house slid open and an older Gren appeared. The man nodded solemnly. “Trent of the House of Dar, welcome home.” He stood without emotion in front of Trent, his gaze not swaying her direction. “Already the homecoming meal is planned for your return to your homeland.” If she didn’t know better, she would guess he didn’t see her standing next to Trent. The older man’s moist black eyes remained attentive on Trent. His attire was simple—black trousers with the typical shirt and a long cape that covered his aging frame. Streaks of silver ran through his black hair giving him a dignified look, too dignified for a servant—at least a servant like the ones Dawn had known. Trent responded with a gruff tone. “Let the House of Dar know that the homecoming meal will have to be in two sunsets. I have plans this evening.” The man nodded and turned toward a path that worked its way through the small trees. Dawn followed Trent silently toward the house, taking everything in around her. Long narrow windows offered the only intrusion to the simple wooden home. It was a pale green, contrasting the darkness that seemed to surround them—dark trees, dark blue sky, even the dirt beneath her boots resembled the color of Trent’s hair and eyes.

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Trent pressed his hand to the pad next to the door. The door slid open without ceremony. It shut just as silently behind them. For a moment, Dawn’s eyes wouldn’t adjust. She was blinded by darkness. Trent’s arms came around her, pressing her against a cold hard surface behind her that she could only assume was the wall. “You will not enter the House of Corl without preparation.” His mouth was against her forehead, his lips brushing over her skin. “The homecoming meal is a formal celebration and you will arrive prepared. You will tell me your intentions now.” Her heart raced in her chest. Trent pressed his body against hers, making it impossible for her to think straight. Slowly her eyes adjusted. “What do you mean?” She needed a moment to get her thoughts in order. Trent wasn’t playing fair. He knew his body drove her crazy. Now he was using it against her. The hardness of his shaft, pressed against her hip, told her he was as aroused as she was. There wasn’t time for games. In a matter of hours he would need to have her at the House of Corl. Within that time he needed to have Dawn properly attired and briefed on how to present herself. Grabbing her by the arm he pulled her toward his bedroom. “Lights. Midday brightness,” he told the voice-activated computer that ran the house. Instantly the house filled with light. The rooms cast long shadows, the light dim in comparison to what Dawn would have considered midday light. But she didn’t have time to take in her surroundings, get a good look at the place that Trent called home. He had her wrist, pulling her from the wall and nearly yanking her off her balance as he dragged her through his home. “What do you mean?” she cried out, almost tripping over her boots trying to keep up with his hurried movements. “I don’t have any intentions.” It took a minute to realize she was in his bedroom. A large bed filled the room, other furniture lining the wall that she barely had a chance to glance at. He threw her forward, making her trip over her own feet and barely catch her balance before falling on the bed. She managed to stand, turning to face him, outraged suddenly that he would manhandle her this way. “Don’t you dare throw your weight around with me.” She straightened, her entire body shaking with an energy to fight him if need be. There was no way she could tell him she needed to report to Zahn Corl about the Bortan chips. Trent couldn’t know her father instigated her stealing them. “My business with my father is personal.” “And now your personal matters affect me.” Trent grabbed her before she could react. His words hung in the air between them. Dawn simply stared at him for a moment, realizing the extent of what he’d just said. Trent saw her pause, and for a moment could only stare at her. Never before had he laid claim on any woman. The moment was a brief one however. Dawn gave herself a mental shake, refusing to allow his statement to lower her defenses. Falling in love with this man might jeopardize her mission. And she wouldn’t let go of all she’d obtained because he demanded it.

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She tried to strike out but couldn’t move fast enough. He lifted her, tossing her onto his bed. The way she fell, her legs spread and her arms bracing her body, propping her up with her long black hair fanning around her, had him so aroused he could hardly think straight. He could fuck her right now, take her right there on the bed, giving no thought to the anger that so obviously surged from her. “Let me make this real simple for you.” He stood over her, watching her glare at him, giving her time to calm down and to bring under control the carnal need that rose within him, threatening to consume him. “You need to decide right now who you trust. It’s me or Zahn Corl. Because once you enter that homecoming meal, there will be no turning back.” Chapter Fourteen

Dawn jumped off the bed, seeing that Trent wasn’t going to stop her, and realizing it might be her only chance to gain the upper hand. She plunged her finger into his chest, wanting to clobber him, but her rational thoughts told her that might not be her best move. “You listen to me, Trent Dar,” she hissed. “I don’t need a protector, or an owner. You will not control me.” Trent moved closer so that he was inches from her, tension rippling through his body. He seemed to grow before her eyes, looking down at her, which not many men could do. His expression was hard, his gaze so intense a heat rushed through her, burning her cheeks, settling in her pussy. “Tell me you wish to leave,” he whispered. “Tell me you don’t need me.” He didn’t touch her yet stood so close their bodies almost brushed against each other. He didn’t move. All he did was focus on her with those non-blinking black eyes, dark hair bordering his brooding expression. Stubbornness consumed her. “I’ve never needed anyone.” Trent wanted to grab her and shake some sense into her bullheaded brain. At the same time he needed to throw her onto the bed, rip her clothes off, and fuck her silly. She must have sensed his aggression getting the best of him. Looking away, down toward his torso, she blew out a breath. The side of the bed pressed against her legs while he pinned her with his body. She tried turning, attempting to move around him. He grabbed her arm before he could stop himself. Her gaze was on fire when she glared at him, his hand branding her arm with a fire that she sensed tore through his system. “Accept the fact that there are things you cannot know,” she managed with a hoarse whisper, managing to hold her ground with him. “I will know everything.” He pulled her to him, wrapping her in his arms before she could try and get away from him. “I will know where you got that ship. You will tell me how you found your father. And I will know every detail about these Bortan chips.” Her heart thudded loudly in her chest. He was serious. Licking her lips, she fought for answers to appease him. But he’d brought the game to a head. Plain and simple, he demanded answers right now.

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She wasn’t sure what to do. There was no way she would betray her father. She didn’t wish to betray Trent either, but she had to stand up to him. “And what if I won’t tell you?” she demanded, fighting a shiver that threatened to race through her. “Will you throw me out?” “And if I do?” One arm kept her pinned to him, her strength no match against his. He reached up with his other hand and took a strand of hair, wrapping it in his fingers. The act was compassionate, belying the way he held her in a stronghold. “How will you dress for your homecoming meal? Do you know how to act? I’m sure you want to make a good impression on your new family. Will you know how to do that? And after that ceremony, what will you do then?” The way he studied her locks of hair in his hand gave her the shivers. His head was lowered, stroking her hair with his thumb. But when he met her eyes, captured her gaze, she saw the warrior, primed for attack, seeing her weaknesses, and narrowing in on them. She pushed against his chest, and was surprised, and a bit disappointed, when he let her go. “This isn’t fair,” she sighed, yanking her hair from his hand with a quick gesture and pushing it behind her back. “Answering your questions will mean betraying another. I can’t do that.” “And what do you know of Zahn Corl?” he asked her. “Has he stood by your side in battle? Has he defended you to his military? Has he fucked you?” She raised her hand to strike. He grabbed her wrist before she could slap his face. “Don’t ever imply such a thing. I’m not now, nor have I ever been any man’s whore.” She couldn’t believe he would even suggest such a thing. “I believe you.” And he did. Her past had him curious. But that was information she would give him at another time. “You need to decide who to trust, Dawn. You need to decide where your loyalties lie.” “I bought my ship with money from Ryl Plantation,” she snapped out, offering as much of the truth as she could. “And I’ve known Zahn Corl was my father since I was a child. My mother told me in spite of orders from the master not to do so. As for the Bortan chips…” she hesitated for just a second. “I stole them… I went to their home planet, Bort, and I stole them.” Trent raised an eyebrow. “I would have believed I had your trust until your last comment. You’ve never been to Bort.” “Oh, haven’t I?” She put her hands on her hips, silently daring him to prove her wrong. “No. You haven’t. You forget, my dear, I’ve manned your ship. I’ve seen the logs of where you’ve traveled. Unless you took a less powerful ship into enemy territory, and somehow made it out alive, that ship of yours has definitely never orbited the planet Bort.” Trent shook his head, aching to touch her again but standing his ground. “I know the statistics all too well. Very few ships travel past Greneen to the planet Bort. And even fewer ships make it back.” Dawn worried her lower lip with her teeth, studying him. He’d give her this, she stood up to him better than most warriors he’d commanded in his time. He watched her soft gray eyes. Tall and proud, and so damned beautiful, he guessed her mind worked over possible arguments. He could almost see the

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thoughts churning. Her gaze never faltered, her stance barely shifted. “I can’t tell you any more.” She knew sharing the truth of her accomplice would incriminate her father. He’d trusted her when he’d introduced her to those who would help in the mission. There wasn’t much she could share about the woman who’d helped her obtain the Bortan chips. Zahn Corl had arranged the meeting, and Dawn had shown up where and when she was directed. The woman hadn’t shared much about herself, an intentional move Dawn had guessed. “Can’t. Or won’t.” “I won’t.” She spoke so quietly, but with so much conviction. Dawn would make a damn good warrior. Trent nodded, turning from her and heading into the living room. In time he would know all of her secrets. There was no arguing that decision. Every minute he was with her, he wanted her more. No warrior would have dared deny him information he sought out. Trent had the power to ruin a person with a single command. Dawn had so much to lose, yet she stood up to him, challenged him, provoked him. She didn’t care so much about herself as she protected those she barely knew. It was an admirable trait—one of many he was learning she possessed. Dawn followed him into the living room, staring after him for a moment. It took longer for her breathing to return to normal. Had she really just stood up to Trent Dar and won? No way. He was up to something. And the urge to run after him, find out his plot, swarmed through her with a vengeance. She glanced around the room, noting the shiny surface of the long glass table in the center of the room. High-backed chairs surrounded the table. The room was designed for meetings and not entertaining. More than likely any social functions would take place in the House of Dar she’d seen upon entering the grounds. She couldn’t picture Trent Dar doing much entertaining anyway. At least not in this room. Glancing again toward the bedroom, a thought settled through her that he might have enjoyed a lady or two in that room. He wasn’t her man. She’d pretty much just told him that, yet a bitter taste crept into her mouth when she pictured him enjoying another woman. He wasn’t her man, she repeated to herself. She scowled, but then looked up when she heard his deep baritone muttering something. He didn’t look at her but moved past her again, returning to his room. “I’ll need a gown for the homecoming meal,” she heard him say when she reached the doorway. Shadows passed over Trent’s profile as he stood half facing her. The suns barely offered light through the long windows on either side of his bed. And the light in the room was dimmed, probably to the brightness most Gren enjoyed. A planet so far from the suns with a people whose eyes had adjusted to living in shadow-filled days and pitch-black nights. Yet even in the shadows she enjoyed the view of the powerful man before her. Tall and dark, powerful-looking and dangerous, he showed no emotion while speaking to the unknown person at the other end of the transmission. He might as well be ordering ships to battle as requesting a dress for a social affair. His expression remained the same. Relaxed yet in control. His features strong, forbidding, and a challenge. She could enjoy many days learning this man.

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He turned his attention to her when he pulled the comm from his ear. “Come here.” It was an order. And one she found herself obeying without thought. How interesting that she’d spent a lifetime rebelling against such commands. Yet two simple words uttered from Trent’s mouth had her moving into the room to stand in front of him. “I would dishonor you if I didn’t properly prepare you for the function we’re about to attend.” His tone had changed, relaxed, his words spoken with something almost resembling tenderness. “It isn’t customary to introduce you to members of the House of Dar informally. But under the circumstances, I feel it’s necessary.” Trent saw that she knew little about the ways of his people. More than likely her father had been amused by her wild ways, her untamed nature. A Gren in the purest form—without the upbringing of what is proper and what isn’t. In a way he envied her that. Dawn was truly free. But Trent wouldn’t have her meet the Corl family, be presented to the table, without her understanding what she would endure. “I won’t beg for them to like me.” She’d taken on that stubborn expression of hers, her chin sticking out as she straightened. “I can only imagine what you would beg for,” he said, his tone turning thick with need he couldn’t keep buried. They didn’t have much time. And there was even less time they would have alone. Already the suns dipped low toward the horizon. The first one would set soon. Dawn looked up at him, the need he felt tightening in his groin matching the glazed desire that spread over her pretty gray eyes. “I’m not going to beg for anything.” She dropped her gaze, taking in the bulging muscles that pressed against his shirt. “I go after what I want, and leave behind what I don’t want.” “It’s that simple, is it?” He was amused. She was so damned cocky. Yet underneath her hardened shell he saw a woman, vulnerable and in unknown waters. She gloried in the challenge of an adventure. But he also saw her fear of the unknown, the ache that came from an unknown source deep inside her to learn from every experience she took on. That appealed to him. Who was he fooling—it more than appealed to him. Every minute he was with her he ached to know her better, figure out what made her tick, learn every inch of her, inside and out. Dawn caressed his chest, letting her fingers graze over solid muscle, feel the heat from touching him rush through her hands, up her arms, and course through her body. Her fingers dragged over his shirt to his pants. Adrenaline already pumped through him. Her touch was like tiny spears scraping over him, puncturing through him, drugging him with a need that almost put him over the edge. He grabbed her wrists before she could touch his cock. Holding her so she couldn’t move, he stared into the source of her passion, burning alive in her gaze. “And you think you can have whatever you wish?” he asked, his voice a hoarse whisper. His control was on edge. It would take nothing to toss her onto his bed, have his way with her. His cock burned

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inside his pants, throbbing furiously to be unbound, set free, buried in her heat. “How do you know what I want?” she whispered, toying with him. Her voice had taken a husky, sultry edge that swept through him like a wildfire. He released her hands, unable to prevent her from seeking out what she would. She smiled with satisfaction, her hands cupping his cock, her fingers wrapping around his shaft through his pants. “Free me, woman.” His eyes closed. There was no way he could stop her from doing what she wanted. Her fingers were magic, caressing and stroking, taking over with her touch until his entire body was so hard that he couldn’t move. It took more energy than he thought to simply open his eyes. She had gone to her knees, nimbly working his pants until she released his cock. Holding it in her hands, she stared at it like it was a rare jewel, fondling it and running her fingers over it until he thought he would explode that very moment. When he growled, fighting for control not to move, not to stop her from her investigation, she looked up at him and smiled. Her grin was sincere, so simple, her guard down for the moment. True happiness and peace made her expression glow. Her long black hair fanned down her back while soft gray eyes glowed in the evening light. He held his breath when she stuck out her tongue, tasting the tip of his cock. Warm heat soared through him, the simple act forcing him to lock his knees so that he wouldn’t stumble, wouldn’t grab her, wouldn’t prevent her from having her way from him. “Tell me if you like this,” she asked. Her breath against his shaft while her fingers continued to stroke him had him in a trance. “You’re doing fine so far,” he managed to say, blood rushing from his head, making him dizzy, while it surged through his veins to his cock. She took him in her mouth, slowly at first, then tightening her lips around him and sucking him into her heat. “By the gods. Damn woman.” He gripped her head, needing to hold on. The heat from her mouth sent a raging fever through him, blood pulsing faster, making his cock throb while the pressure built. Her tongue stroked his shaft, humidity soaring from her mouth while her lips began moving up and down over him. He couldn’t believe how incredibly good it was. Here was a woman who’d never had anal sex before, yet proved a master at sucking cock. His fingers tangled through her hair, holding it in place, unable to hold still any longer. He wouldn’t dwell on how many times she’d done this. If she’d been forced, or had willingly given into the act. Her past wouldn’t consume him right now. She offered herself without coercion. He hadn’t asked her to do this. And she was doing such a damn good job. He wouldn’t suggest she stop. Far from it.

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“Dawn,” he growled, watching her worship his cock with her mouth. “You’re incredible.” His eyes rolled back, while his toes curled in his boots. Gripping her head, his hands tangled in her hair. He moved in and out of her mouth. Her lips stretched around him, not confining his movement but making it easier as the moist heat increased over his shaft. When she moaned her response, the vibration of the sound sent a rush through him, reaching his soul. Her tongue worked magic as she took him in deeper, managing to reach the end of his shaft with her lips. She gagged, causing her throat to constrict around him. Dawn would suck the life right out of him. And he sure would die a happy man. She pulled back, releasing his cock for a moment while she sucked in air. He tightened his grip on her head, but wouldn’t force himself back into her mouth. His brain might be mush at the moment, but her gift was pure ecstasy, and he wouldn’t abuse it. “You’re going to come in my mouth,” she told him and then sucked him back into her heat. Her command sent shivers through him, his muscles hardening throughout his body while his cock threatened to explode without warning. Dawn relished how good Trent tasted and smelled. A mixture of Greneen leather added with the salty taste of his pre-cum had her eagerly devouring him. Already her lips were tingling from running them back and forth over his cock. She built up the momentum, visions of the women from Ryl Plantation giving head, filling her thoughts as she knelt in front of Trent. Oddly enough, memories of being told to do this exact same act hit her as she enjoyed Trent’s cock. A specific time flooded through her thoughts without bidding. She’d been young, not quite a full-grown woman but still a teenager, when the master had called her to him. Continually in and out of trouble, she’d expected another reprimand when entering his private chambers. “You intrigue me,” she remembered him saying, his voice clear in her head even though he’d been dead for a while now. She’d stood inside his private room, taking in the magnificent furniture, the expensive carpet that her bare feet sunk deep into, and the pricey fragrances that filled her nostrils. All she remembered thinking at the time was that the money to gain all these wonderful items came from selling sex slaves. She despised him for that. “You don’t know me,” she’d told him. Her mouth had gotten her in trouble more times than not, but she was unable to keep her thoughts to herself. The master hadn’t smiled. He seldom did. Instead he’d told her to come to him. He’d used the same tone Trent had used just minutes ago, yet she’d reacted so differently. She dug her toes into the carpet and didn’t move. When he’d pulled out his plump cock, squeezed the flesh with his thick, fat fingers, told her what he had wanted to do, she’d turned and run from the room. The thought of putting that thing in her mouth had made her want to puke. Knowing she would be punished for her act, she hadn’t returned to the small

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cottage she shared with her mother and several other sex slaves, but instead had raced to the large cooking house, where the slaves who prepared the meals worked around the clock. Hiding behind rows of dried herbs, she consented to the fact she would sleep the night out there. “Don’t tell me that is more comfortable than your bed.” One of the sex slaves, a boy about her age, had been in the room and she hadn’t even noticed him until it was too late. “Shush and go away,” she had ordered him. Either intrigued, or having nowhere to go, the boy hadn’t moved. Instead he came closer, his expression curious and aroused. “Why do you run from sex?” he’d asked her. “Is there something wrong with you?” The way he looked at her told Dawn he thought just the opposite. “No one is going to tell me what to do,” she snapped at him. He’d come closer until he had her cornered behind the bundles of herbs. She hadn’t been afraid of him. There was no way he could force her to do anything anyway. None of the other slaves could out power her. She’d grown up with all of them and was much stronger, not to mention taller than almost all of them. “It’s your black hair, I think.” He’d reached out and touched her, gently stroking the side of her head. She hadn’t moved. Fighting him off might bring attention to them. She would be able to make him go away with a harsh word, yet for some reason she couldn’t quite remember now, she hadn’t made him leave. “You’re so different from the rest of us,” he had told her. “They will always call for you. And you know, sex isn’t so bad. Haven’t you ever tried it?” She hadn’t. And he ended up being her first. The young sex slave proved to be fairly decent, kissing and fondling her behind the heady scent of the herbs. Dawn cupped the full sacs that held Trent’s seed, feeling his skin move against her palm. She stroked him gently with her hand while taking him deep into her mouth, just to the point where she might gag, and then releasing him. His fingers in her hair had her soaked. The way he held her, keeping her in place yet not confining her movements made her pussy pulse with a desire to come like she never had before. “Are you ready for me?” Trent asked, his voice sounding like a growl. She nodded, not wanting to stop what she was doing to answer him. His cock swelled, veins protruding from his shaft, filling with blood. She stroked him with her tongue. And then hot liquid filled her mouth. It was so salty, so thick. Trent came in her mouth, his body shaking while he exploded. She couldn’t drink all that he offered. Pulling him out, running her tongue over the tip while more white cream seeped from him, she looked up

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through blurred vision, smiling. He pulled her to her feet, kissing her savagely and tasting his cum on her breath. She pulled away, breaking off the kiss. “Don’t think you are the only one who can take charge here, Trent Dar. If that thought ever crosses your mind again, remember this moment.” Chapter Fifteen

Trent was still lightheaded when the computer announced in its mechanical voice that someone wished to enter his home. Dawn stood in front of him, her face flushed from her act. She looked around her, her expression turning to one of curiosity as the announcement filled the room. “Seems it would be just as easy to knock,” she muttered. Trent fought not to smile. He adjusted his pants, his cock still throbbing and damp from her mouth. More than anything he wished for time to enjoy every inch of her body, drink of her juices and pound that tight pussy of hers until she screamed. She looked so beautiful, her lips full and moist, her gaze glassy from sucking him off. And he couldn’t help but enjoy her determination not to submit to him. She would learn to trust him, to see that he would always have the say in all situations. But he’d give her this moment, let her feel she had the upper hand. There wasn’t time right now to instruct her on how following his direction would only benefit her. He had to protect her, allow her to learn of the solar system she’d been sheltered from, in bits and pieces, and not jump in headfirst where she might be hurt. Trent turned toward the door, working to clear his mind so that he could greet family who would bring appropriate clothing for Dawn to wear tonight. “Oh.” His mind had regained control, even though his cock still throbbed for more of Dawn. “When my sister and her daughters greet you, your response will be simply, ‘the honor is mine’. “ Dawn’s lips tingled and her pants were damp at the crotch when Trent opened the door to his home. She didn’t understand what he’d just said, but mouthed the words silently, wondering how many times over the next few hours she would fumble their traditions. She didn’t see that it mattered much. After all, it was no secret that she was an outsider. They would accept her for who she was, or not at all. Nonetheless, she stood silently, trying to clear her expression and look presentable when Trent pushed the button on the wall and the door slid to the side. A woman about as tall as she was, accompanied by two girls, entered, all carrying bundles. “Welcome home, brother,” the woman said, putting her bundle down on the table in the living area and then embracing Trent. “Ral, the welcome is appreciated.” Trent hugged his sister and then turned to the two girls. “Your daughters are turning into beautiful young women.”

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The two girls glanced at their uncle, but then turned their attention to Dawn. Ral did the same. Dawn guessed they silently waited for introductions. She stood, trying not to fidget, glancing from one to the other child, and then to his sister. They were curious about her. And in the dimly lit room, with the chill from outside still lingering, Dawn felt a chill rush through her. She didn’t sense animosity, but they weren’t eager to accept her either. She focused on the sister, Ral, taking in her long black hair, so similar to her own, her proud features, the unblinking black eyes. This was a race she was half of, their traits the same as hers, except for her gray eyes. Glancing at the two girls, she knew they’d never been forced to do something hideous against their wishes. They didn’t look like they knew hunger, or fear. They didn’t look up at her but instead appeared to be studying her clothing, her boots, anything but her face. Trent turned to her, clasping his hands behind his back. “Allow me to present Dawn of Corl.” He might as well have been introducing two officers, his tone was so official. Ral stepped forward, meeting Dawn’s gaze as they stared eye to eye. Dawn couldn’t read her expression. Years of confining emotions made her face a blank slate. She looked nothing like Trent, Dawn decided. Ral’s black lashes fluttered over her soft black eyes as she took in Dawn. “Welcome to the House of Dar,” Ral said in a soft tone. Dawn almost said thank you. She glanced at Trent but he focused on his sister. “The honor is mine,” she said quietly, feeling silly that she had to mimic a line given to her. Ral glanced down at her daughters who stood solemnly, both dressed in simple smocks that fell past their knees. Their black hair was covered with scarves, secured at the back of their necks. Both of them looked up at her curiously, not trained in keeping a blank expression yet. They cocked their heads and studied her, frowning. The taller of the two looked at her mother as if she would speak. Ral gave her an almost unnoticeable shake of her head, and the girl quickly looked at her boots. “The dress we brought will be most attractive on you,” Ral said, nodding her head to the bundle on the table. None of them moved and Dawn wondered if maybe Ral would stay to ensure that Dawn changed alone. The thought amused her that she would need to have her modesty protected. After a moment she reached for the bundle. “Thank you,” she said. “I’ve never been to one of these homecoming meals before and Trent wanted me to wear something other than this.” She gestured at her attire, which up until now had suited her every adventure. Ral nodded, again not showing any indication that she agreed, or disagreed with Dawn’s comment. Since none of them protested, Dawn turned and went back into Trent’s room to change. “Her eyes look funny,” one of the children commented, and was immediately shushed by her mother.

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Dawn fought back a bout of insecurity. Her mother had been a good woman. None of them had chosen to be born into slavery, and she wouldn’t regret her heritage just because it made her different. She was free now, and she would gain respect for who she was. Besides, there was nothing she could do about her gray eyes. The dress didn’t quite fit right, hanging a bit far over her shoulders, and the length of the skirt almost swaying to the ground. Whoever this had been designed for was even taller than Dawn. When she reentered the living area, Trent sat alone at the table, appearing lost in thought as he appeared to study the darkness through the windows. Trent stared at her for a long moment when she appeared before him, looking awkward in the dress as if that type of clothing wasn’t something she was used to wearing. “I know. It’s too big.” She gripped the folds of the skirt, the material wrinkling in her hands. “Turn around.” She was stunning in the dress, obviously more so than she realized. “It’s supposed to fit loosely. You are an unmated woman and on Greneen we protect women who haven’t taken a man.” She wrinkled her nose at him. “Seems I’ve done a fair bit of taking over the past few days,” she said, and then licked her lips giving him a grin that made his cock spring to life. He turned from her before the temptation to take her in his arms overwhelmed him. “It’s time to leave.” She scowled as she followed him out of the door, his long black cape swooping around him adding to his mystique. Sometimes he was too rigid. It made her want to taunt him more just to see his emotions surface. But she kept her peace, thoughts of what to expect out of the evening making butterflies spring to life in her stomach. The House of Corl was actually halfway around the planet from the House of Dar. The landscape didn’t change much during the flight. Trent kept the carrier close to the ground, although in the fading light Dawn couldn’t see much out the windows. Thick trees covered the planet, and she knew from studying Greneen that most of its water was underground. By the time he slowed at the entrance leading to the large house, Dawn wished she had questioned Trent more about what to expect. Surprisingly though, he didn’t lecture her on how to behave, or what to say or not say. Possibly he wasn’t sure what to expect either. That thought made her even more nervous. “Dawn Corl and Trent Dar have arrived,” he said into his comm, after landing at the entrance to the house. It was dark now, and all she could see was the outline of a magnificent home through the small trees. Lights from two gliders appeared and stopped in front of the carrier. She glanced over at him, wondering if this was normal procedure. His dark shadowed features made her insides flip-flop. Her breasts swelled under the heavy material, her nipples aching as they brushed against the coarse fabric. Trent had the look of a warrior, his body hard, muscles tense and bulging through his shirt. She knew if she ran her fingers over his chest he would be hard as stone. Here was a man of power, with authority, his reputation solid, his nature demanding. No matter what happened this evening, Dawn knew she would be safe by his side. “They will escort us to the home,” Trent told her without looking her way, after pulling the comm from his head.

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Dawn hadn’t been this nervous the first time she’d met her father. She’d been excited, unaware of so much protocol involved in a Gren meeting, and thrilled to be so far from home. Her father had met her alone, providing her a room in one of the towns, and then coming to see her. It had been there that he’d told her of his plans to stop the Bortan from moving forward with the prototype to give them skin. She’d willingly offered to help and bragged about the money she had. He’d arranged for her to have her own ship, and introduced her to the young woman who would help her. All that seemed so long ago now. Trent landed the carrier for the second time and Dawn stared up at the home that was larger than any she’d ever seen. Her father’s home—the House of Corl. There was a proud distinguished look about the place. Zahn Corl was a respected warrior, having paid his dues and been honored by many. That wasn’t the life she’d known. Had things been different, possibly she would have grown up here. But even then, she doubted she would have the distinguished dignity that this house professed. She was the bastard—daughter of a slave. Holding her head high, she would be damned if anyone made her feel inferior for her heritage. For the first time she was grateful for the thick material of her dress when the night air wrapped around her. She shivered, and wrapped her arms around her waist, as she followed the two Gren who’d escorted them here toward the large steepled door ahead of them. It opened when they reached it, a very thin older Gren woman standing to the side so they could enter. “Welcome to the House of Corl,” she said with a nod, her black eyes darting from Trent to Dawn. She searched Dawn’s face for a moment but then looked away. They were curious about her. Dawn wondered what the members of this home knew of her. More than likely, she would find out soon enough. Without thinking, she edged closer to Trent. Another man appeared behind her, his boots clicking against the floor as he approached them. “Trent Dar. We are honored to have your presence at the House of Corl.” He came to a stop, clicking his heels together military style, and stood at attention. “It pleases all here that you are taking time to bring our guest to Zahn Corl. My father awaits you—this way.” Trent placed his hand on her back as they followed the young man through the large entryway and then down a wide hallway to a brightly lit room at the end of the hall. His touch sent a reassuring warmth through Dawn. He knew she was nervous, but pride swelled through him that she moved with such dignity. There hadn’t been time to do much research on the Corl family, but he hadn’t heard of any victories accomplished by Zahn’s son. Already Dawn had made her mark in favor of the Gren. She would be honored for her efforts to stop the Bortan, taking the risks that she had to help Poltar. Her bastard heritage would hinder her, but Trent also knew it would be to her advantage. She held no ties with this family. Her freedom gave her an interesting rank. And oddly enough for a woman who’d been raised a slave, it was a rank to be envied. Gren traditions wouldn’t apply to her, giving her the ability to make her own decisions that many in her place couldn’t make. Dawn didn’t have to stay here. And he would see to it that she didn’t. Running his fingers along her back, pressing slightly so he could feel her spine through her dress, he fought the urge to pull her closer. Her long black hair brushed against his arm. Tall and proud, walking by his side, he knew that was where he wanted to keep her. A protective instinct rose strong inside him. Watching the young man who escorted them, a hardness surged through him. No one would harm Dawn.

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Nothing would stop him from taking her with him when they left this place after the meal. Dawn held her head high, refusing to be discouraged that the young man hadn’t given her a glance while greeting Trent. And he’d mentioned that his father awaited them. Was he her half-brother? He wasn’t as large as Trent, and was probably younger than she was. His shiny black hair was smoothed back to the nape of his neck. He wore a dark maroon suit—pants and a jacket that were made of the similar thick material her dress had been woven from. As cold as this planet was, she didn’t doubt their attire would be such heavy clothing. He paused at the entrance to the room, turning so she could see his profile. Definitely a young man, she noted how wide his black eyes were. Full of curiosity and a craving for adventure. He appeared to her a man who ached to leave home and taste life, yet hadn’t quite reached the age where he could. “There you are.” Zahn Corl’s voice bellowed through the room. “Father, may I present…” “Drop the formalities.” Zahn waved his hand at the young man, which shut him up quickly although Dawn thought she noticed a wave of disapproval wrinkle his brow. “I know who they are.” Zahn Corl took his time standing from a large wooden chair sitting close to a large fire burning in a hearth that covered the side of the long room. Dawn guessed he must enjoy the crackling of the flames since the computers more than likely controlled the temperature in the home. She watched her father stand, adjust his shirt with a tug from his thick fingers, and then smile warmly at her. “Dawn. Welcome home.” He held his hands out, and she guessed that was her cue to approach. Trent’s touch remained branded on her back as she left his side. For a moment she wished she’d picked Trent’s mind more, learned more of how Gren interacted with each other. But she hadn’t known what questions to ask. She forced down her insecurities. These people would accept her for who she was, or she wouldn’t accept them. She graced her father with a smile that she hoped looked confident and relaxed. He gripped her hands in his own, his touch cold and his large palms wrinkly. But his grip was firm and his gaze alert. “I’m thrilled to be here,” she said quietly, not knowing what else to say. “Zook. Call for your mother and sister. Arrange for the homecoming meal to begin. We shall do formal introductions soon.” He looked over her shoulder when he spoke but didn’t let go of her hands. Dawn heard the young man retreat and knew Trent stood alone behind her, watching, on guard. He wouldn’t approve of her opening up to her father, hugging him and telling him how good it was to have him in her life. She swallowed the urge, deciding a bit of distance might be best anyway until she knew her father’s intentions behind this formality. “It will take time for all of them,” Zahn said quietly. He looked down at her with a gentle expression, and then let go of one of her hands to stroke her cheek. “You have made me proud, though, your actions befitting your blood. They will accept you.” “I’m not here to cause problems for anyone.” She could only imagine what his mate would think of

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having her man’s bastard under her roof. There was no way of knowing how long the woman might have known of Dawn’s existence, but since she had only just met her father, it couldn’t have been that long. “There are matters…” “Which we shall discuss later,” he interrupted, giving Trent his attention for the first time. “Trent Dar, it is an honor to have you in my home.” Trent overheard the exchange of words and knew Zahn Corl didn’t wish him to be privileged to hear what he had in mind for Dawn. “The honor is mine,” Trent said coolly from behind her. Zahn Corl was a man to reckon with, in spite of his advanced age. Trent wouldn’t be intimidated by the fancy home, the high rank of the man in front of him. Any matters pertaining to Dawn he would know of. Even though Corl had a relaxed stance, Trent remained poised and alert. His instincts were on overdrive, something telling him he needed to pay attention to every move, every word said while they were in this home. “Stories of your success with Command Center have reached us. I am impressed.” Zahn sounded sincere, but Dawn sensed the testosterone rising in the room. Two strong men, one whose record of success was behind him, and the other who continued to battle for what was right. “It’s a shame you have left the military. Your work is needed to keep our people strong.” Dawn turned, staring at Trent. “You’ve left Command Center? But why?” He didn’t look at her, his attention completely on Zahn Corl. “Your family has a gift of obtaining information not readily available to the public.” It shouldn’t surprise him that his conversation with Por Gree had reached Zahn Corl. The simple acknowledgment that he knew of this matter was Corl’s way of telling Trent that he might be old, but was still powerful. Trent took the information, his protector instinct kicking in even harder with the knowledge. Zahn didn’t smile. “I would be honored if you shared your intentions for your next mission.” Trent nodded. “As always, I will protect Greneen to the death.” He hadn’t told Zahn Corl a thing. Nor did he have any intention of doing so. The man would be a fool if he thought Trent wouldn’t go after the information of how Dawn had obtained the Bortan chips. Someone had access to the race, the ability to move around on the planet, and he had would find out who. Dawn was dying to know what made him leave the military. She wouldn’t flatter herself into thinking it was because of her. But if he did have another mission lined up, where would it take him? The butterflies in her stomach turned into a knot at the thought that in the near future they might part ways. Trent wouldn’t look at her, though. His black eyes probed through Zahn Corl. And in the short time she’d known Trent, already she could tell his guard was up. For some reason he didn’t trust her father. Dawn knew little about the man herself. And for the moment, she would take the stance that the only person she could completely rely on was herself, her own judgment, and her own abilities to protect herself. Both of these men had an agenda. And until she knew exactly what was in their minds, there was no way she could lean too hard on either of them. Her heart ached at that thought however. She wanted

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to lean on Trent—trust him, rely on his judgment. The older woman who had answered the door appeared in the room from the hallway. “The meal is prepared,” she announced, and then turned silently, leaving them. Zahn gestured with a wave of his hand. “Honor me by joining us in greeting my daughter into the family.” Trent stood to the side, allowing the older man to lead them out of the room. Dawn looked up at him, falling into place at his side. But Trent didn’t look down at her. His expression might as well have been chiseled in stone. Silently they moved back down the hallway to a set of doors that had been closed when they walked past them minutes before. It was as he expected. Zahn Corl intended to make Dawn an official part of his family. His reputation as a warrior was strong. And obviously the man had decided that announcing he had a bastard wouldn’t hinder him. And damn straight that it wouldn’t. Dawn would be one hell of a tool to use in gaining advantage in battle. Trent would not allow her to be used like that. Once again he placed a protective hand on her, not caring if anyone saw the intimate gesture. Dawn had no clue about these ceremonies, or their meaning. She looked up at him, curiosity and wonder painting her expression. Those gray eyes searched his face. She wanted answers but there was no time. Silently he squeezed her waist, his only way of letting her know he would protect her. Dawn looked into the room now opened and flooded with light and activity, noticing a long table filled with a variety of steaming foods. Several people stood next to their chairs, waiting silently for the head of the household to move to his chair and then gesture for all of them to sit. There were only two other unoccupied chairs in the room, one next to him, and the other at the end of the table. Trent nudged her and she moved to sit next to her father. “We are honored tonight with the presence of my firstborn, my daughter. We will enter her into the House of Corl. Dawn of Corl, we give thanks for your presence.” While Zahn spoke, several servants had hurried around the table, pouring a blood-colored liquid into stone goblets in front of them. Zahn Corl picked up his goblet, holding it in front of him. “All of us drink. Give greeting to Dawn of Corl.” He nodded to the others sitting around the table and slowly each of them picked up their goblets. Dawn looked down the table at Trent. He had his goblet and slowly sipped from it. When she met his gaze over the stone cup she thought she saw a warning in his eyes. She sipped from her own cup, the liquid thick and sweet like a dessert. It didn’t settle well in her stomach and she set the goblet down. “Allow me to introduce you to our family,” Zahn continued. The servants continued to move around them with practiced ease, refilling goblets and scooping food from platters onto the plates in front of them. Dawn had the strangest sensation of being in a show, some kind of rehearsed skit where she was the only one who didn’t know her lines. Tension rippled through the air, its thickness almost making the rich smells from the food unnoticeable. She glanced down when some kind of meat was slid from a serving plate onto her own. Her stomach

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ached with nerves and she wasn’t sure she would manage to eat, not to mention the sip she’d just taken from the drink wasn’t sitting well. “My mate, Prel.” Zahn held his hand out and the woman sitting across from Dawn and next to Zahn placed her hand on his. “You are too old for a mother, Dawn. But Prel is here if you have matters of interest. She has agreed to assist you with questions of our culture.” “That’s very kind of you,” Dawn said, not sure if she was supposed to speak or not. The snort that escaped the mouth of the woman sitting next to her suggested that she wasn’t. Dawn didn’t look that way, but instead attempted a small smile for Zahn’s mate. It couldn’t be easy to welcome her mate’s daughter into her home, a child produced from a sex slave, and obviously showing her mother’s race in her looks. The woman didn’t look at her, but kept her gaze on her mate until finally looking down at her plate. If Zahn noticed that she didn’t appear thrilled with the task of educating Dawn, he gave no indication. “My oldest son, Zook,” he continued, nodding to the young man who sat next to his mother and who had escorted them through the house. “And my daughter, Marl.” “So what was it like being a sex slave?” Marl asked, her words putting a hush on the room. “Marl,” Prel said with indignation. “Father said we were to get to know her,” Marl retorted. “What else would you ask of her?” “We will get to know her by listening to her speak with Father,” Zook scolded his younger sister. “We don’t have to talk to her.” “Are you afraid I might bite?” Dawn couldn’t help asking, allowing her gaze to rest heavily on the young man. He looked away from her quickly, confirming he might think just that. “Fear hardly describes the feelings at hand,” Marl said under her breath. “That is enough. You will honor your half-sister.” Zahn used a tone that should have been intimidating. “Placing too much honor on a person of her type will bring dishonor to us.” Zook had more balls than Dawn thought at first. She wanted to jump over the table and show him exactly what type of person she was, but she held her ground. Zahn growled, his expression not offering as much indication of his emotions as his body did when his hands clenched into fists on either side of his plate. “She is my blood, and already has shown she is more of a warrior than you have. Hold your tongue, or leave this table.” Trent slid his chair back quickly. He’d had enough of this escapade. “Have your servants escort us to a meeting room,” he said quietly, but with enough force to cause all to look at him. “Your family will finish their meal and then we shall meet with you.”

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Dawn stood just as quickly. She glared at the mother who made no attempt to silence her children but allowed them to berate her instead of being strong enough to say what more than likely was on her mind. In that instant, she was glad she hadn’t been raised in this family. They were a bunch of spoiled brats. “Dishonoring you is the last thing I wish to do,” Dawn hissed, her temper consuming her. “Teaching you some manners might not hurt though.” She glared at Zook, getting morbid satisfaction from him not standing up to her but seeming to shrink in his chair. He was as meek as the men on Poltar, far from a challenge for her. “As if you could teach us anything,” Marl muttered, not bothering to look up. Dawn looked down at the young woman, barely a woman but no longer a teenager. She itched to yank the little twit from her chair, show her exactly what she could teach the brat. “Dawn.” Trent’s tone made her name sound like a threat. She glanced up at him in time to see Zook jump when Trent spoke. “Enough,” Zahn Corl bellowed as he stood at the end of the table. “You all dishonor me in front of our guests. Leave!” He pointed to the door, and then glared down at his mate as if somehow it was her fault that her children had spoken their minds. Chapter Sixteen

“More Tark wine!” Zahn Corl bellowed while leaning back in his chair after his family had left. Determination etched his face, bringing out wrinkles in his forehead and around his eyes. The servants hurried around them, as if somehow their actions could soothe the incident that had just occurred. “You ask too much of your family to accept me.” Dawn still stood next to her seat, clenching the back of it, needing something to hold on to or she would hurry out of the room too. “I didn’t come here to disrupt your home life, a life that isn’t mine, nor ever shall be.” “Sit,” Zahn ordered, gesturing to her and to Trent. “I’ve lost my appetite,” she told him, although she’d never been hungry. “Clear the plates,” Zahn instructed the servants, and then gestured to her and Trent once again. “Sit.” Dawn glanced toward Trent. More than anything she wanted to leave this place. There was unfinished business with her father, but that could be handled at another time, in a neutral place. She’d been insulted, humiliated, and the urge to storm out of there and never look back made it hard to think straight. A fiery rage ran through her, mixed with embarrassment. Her past was simply that. Somehow she would overcome it and move forward. And she didn’t see how remaining there would help her do that.

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Trent moved around the table, the servants artfully dodging him as they cleared serving dishes and plates. His attention was on Dawn. She shook with a fury he imagined burned through her veins. She didn’t have the training to restrain it. But she couldn’t explode in front of Zahn Corl. In spite of the man’s selfish attempt to place her as firstborn in front of his family, he had a rank that had to be respected, at least in his home. Dawn’s gray eyes burned with a passion that made her cheeks flush a beautiful pink. Her slow, deep breaths pushed her breasts forward even through the heavy material of the dress he’d provided for her. Standing there, staring down at the man who was her father, she was so captivating. But she was also a ticking bomb, ready to explode if not handled properly. He put his arm around her, feeling her stiffen, aware of the older man watching him. She didn’t relax when he pulled her to him, resting his arm around her shoulder. Long strands of black hair partially covered the side of her face, but he saw the edge of determination that was etched in her expression. So proud, so strong, she wouldn’t let this get her down. But she’d taken a blow—not only to her pride, but also to her heritage. And he knew her Gren blood wouldn’t take that lightly. Standing tall so close to him, she still seemed a distance away, not letting down her shield, not letting him in. Such a short time ago she’d been on her knees, sucking the life out of him. Now she had a wall up around her, one he would break through. She would learn trusting him, leaning on him, would make her life easier. “We will honor your father and sit as he requests,” he said very quietly, praying she wouldn’t throw him off with an outburst. She stared up at him, running her tongue over her lips, moistening them, their fullness reminding him that they had recently been wrapped around his cock. His insides hardened, raw possessiveness swarming through him. “I want to leave,” she whispered, the simple statement a confession of her humiliation. He pulled her closer, while sliding the seat out that Zahn Corl’s daughter had sat in moments before. It felt real good being in Trent’s arms. She fit so well pressed against his virile body. Energy that she didn’t know what to do with at the moment surged through her, making her heart race. Heat from his hard as rock muscles seeped through him and into her. He fed her his strength, his calmness, his ability to stand tall when she wanted to strike out. She wanted to attack. She wanted to run. Her mind was in turmoil. Trent was her solid pillar and she didn’t want to leave his arms. “There are matters to discuss,” he said simply, and took the seat next to Zahn. Zahn Corl crossed his thick arms over his massive chest and watched Trent with a shrewd eye. Trent didn’t care if holding Dawn showed his protective side, offered a glimpse of growing feelings between the two of them. Zahn Corl could have that knowledge, accept the fact that Dawn would be with him. Now was time to cut to the chase. There were issues to discuss that had nothing to do with whether Dawn became part of the House of Corl or not. Dawn hesitated for only a moment but then sat down next to Trent. His attention was on her father, but having him in her line of vision somehow made it easier to calm her breathing, clear her thoughts. She didn’t need protection from her father, or his family. But she didn’t mind having Trent on her side, next to

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her, a silent alliance forming that her father would acknowledge. The doors to the room opened again, and the woman who’d greeted them at the door appeared again. “You have another guest,” she said simply, giving no indication that any of the events of the evening affected her or not, or if she even cared. “Show her in,” Zahn said and then took a long drink from his wine. Trent realized he’d been expecting someone else all along, since Zahn Corl knew the gender of the guest without asking. One thing Trent didn’t like was surprises. He turned, eyeing the doorway, watching to see who would appear behind the servant. He wasn’t breathing, his senses were on alert, his body tensing although he remained relaxed in the chair. To show signs of aggression while a guest in a Gren home wasn’t proper. The older woman stepped to the side and a much younger woman sauntered into the room. Dawn straightened, seeming to recognize her instantly. Trent gave the woman a careful look, remembering also where he’d seen her before. “Borna. Thanks for coming,” Zahn Corl said in an uncharacteristically relaxed tone. He stood slowly, extending his hand, a non-Gren formality, and shook the woman’s hand. She nodded, and then turned her attention to Trent and Dawn. She was a short woman compared to Dawn, and well-built, muscular, yet attractive. Thick, long black hair had been twisted and piled behind her head. She studied both of them with knowing dark eyes, not quite black, more of a mud brown color. Her olive skin was smooth, an almost unnoticeable scar marking the side of her jawbone. She had the look of a warrior, and the convenient nondescript appearance that would hide her true heritage. A heritage Trent scorned and ached to wipe from the solar system. “Trent Dar,” Borna said quietly, nodding to him. “We meet again.” Dawn turned her attention quickly, giving him a hard look, obviously wondering how he knew Borna. He leaned back, crossing his arms against his chest. It allowed him to see Dawn better while she stared from Borna to him. And to keep his attention focused on the Bortan woman who stood in front of him. Albeit she didn’t have the surgical implants her race was known for, his past experiences allowed him the knowledge he knew Borna kept from most people. “Yes. It appears we do,” he said mildly, a slow understanding entering his brain. He now had a good hunch how Dawn had obtained the Bortan chips. Borna reached for the chair on the opposite side of the table from Trent and Dar, waiting for Zahn Corl to sit before doing the same. The brown leather pants she wore and loose-fitting brown shirt were work clothes, not Gren. They fit her nicely, showing off her sultry figure. The woman had a hardened look about her though that Trent knew came from battle and witnessing more than a person should have to see in a lifetime. Borna had made no attempt to honor the House of Corl by adhering to the Gren custom of proper visiting attire. Nonetheless, the woman would have caught anyone’s eye. Stunning and beautiful, if Trent didn’t have personal knowledge of her warrior skills, he would have passed her off as simply another attractive woman.

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Yet she was far from that. Borna was a Bortan, the dreaded race that he’d fought hard to annihilate from several planets now. And he would hear the explanation as to why she worked with Zahn Corl. Zahn must have read his thoughts. “I’m sure by now you are working to solve a riddle,” he suggested. Trent gave the older man his attention. “I’m in no mood for riddles,” he said, dropping all formalities. “You are working with a Bortan, a woman who was once on the high council and leader of the fifth army on Bort. This alone could dishonor you.” Borna leaned back in her chair, her gaze burrowing into Trent. “You would judge a person because of the blood running through their veins? Because of their heritage?” She gave Dawn a knowing look. “Do you think the House of Dar will readily accept a sex slave as your woman?” Adrenaline still pumped through Dawn from her encounter with the Corl family. She slid her chair back, standing up and leaning over the table. She’d had enough of being discredited for one night. “Trent Dar doesn’t own me,” she hissed. “And you know damn well that I’m no longer a slave.” Borna smiled, not even remotely intimidated by Dawn glaring down at her. “Oh. My mistake. So you don’t care if I take him home with me tonight?” Dawn shoved her chair back. Her interactions with Borna when she’d taken the Bortan chips from her had been brief. At the time, she’d appeared professional, distant, simply a businesswoman exchanging highly secretive material. Dawn had sensed her intelligence at the time, and even envied Borna for her worldly ways. But she hadn’t taken time to get to know her. But now, Borna would know a thing or two about her. She took a step to march around the table, let Borna have a piece of her mind, and maybe her fist. Strong hands grabbed her arms and she was yanked backward, tripping over her own feet. Trent’s chest hit her backside hard enough to knock the wind out of her. Heat from his body surged through her. She closed her eyes, unable to cope with so many emotions that ran raw through her system. His powerful body pressing against the length of hers once again made her ache to leave this place, be alone with him, put the bad experiences of the night behind her. “No fighting,” he said quietly into her ear. Privately though, he was honored that she would challenge another woman for him. He fought to keep his personal feelings concealed for the moment. Later however, when he was alone with her, he had every intention of bringing up the fact that she would publicly show her possessiveness for him. He pushed her back into her seat, the fire in her eyes while she fought to slow her breathing enough to inspire the thought of simply throwing her over his shoulder and marching right out of there. A carnal, more primitive side of him surfaced when it came to this woman. “Why are you here, Borna?” Dawn asked, feeling suddenly ridiculous for her obvious display of jealousy. She took a deep breath, staring at the woman across from her who still looked completely relaxed. Dawn had just made a damn fool of herself, and simply proven to everyone in the room how she felt about Trent. She needed to get the conversation moved on to other things, and quickly, before she died of embarrassment. “I did what I was asked to do. Are you here to check up on me?”

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“Excellent. So the prototype chips are destroyed.” Borna nodded with approval, apparently willing to drop the issue of Trent as well, yet ignoring Dawn’s question and giving no indication why she was here. “Well…” Dawn chewed her lip, unwilling to lie. “Well what?” Zahn Corl leaned forward. Dawn looked from her father to Borna. “Where are they?” Borna asked, her smile fading. Suddenly she looked incredibly dangerous. There weren’t many people who made Dawn nervous, and she was a fair bit taller than Borna. But the hard look that crossed the woman’s face, her muscular body, made it clear that she wouldn’t tolerate any lies. “I have them.” Trent didn’t hesitate. All eyes in the room turned to him. Trent reached inside his long cape, and pulled out a small bag. He placed it on the table in front of all of them. No one moved. No one reached for the bag that bulged with computer chips. “And now, you will explain to me exactly what is on these chips,” he said, his attention completely on Borna. “I am on those chips,” she said quietly. “And once and for all, they need to be destroyed.” Trent leaned back, as if that made sense to him. Well, it didn’t make sense to Dawn. “What do you mean?” she asked. “You told me those carried information on turning Bortan into humanoids who couldn’t be recognized. You said if those chips were implanted in a Bortan, they wouldn’t need their metal implants. It would change the race so that they were no longer noticeably half human, half machine.” Borna nodded. “And I am Bortan,” she said. A chill rushed through Dawn. Borna was a product of the race that had annihilated her home, killed her mother, destroyed her planet. For a moment she couldn’t think. The other two men looked so calm, like Borna hadn’t just announced the most terrible thing they could hear. Her mind spun with scenes of the Ryl Plantation burning, of the large house crumbling to the ground, of the land around her so bright with fire that she couldn’t see, of the hair on her skin singeing as she raced inside the slave homes searching for survivors. She could still hear the Bortan ships flying above her, dropping more bombs on a land already destroyed. Borna seemed to sense the hostility that rushed through Dawn. “I despise what my people have done to the Ryclox solar system. I couldn’t do anything about Poltar.” She licked her lips, her dark eyes showing her sympathy, and something that looked like anger. “When they attacked Benox, I was there to help defeat them. It was there that I met Trent Dar.” Trent nodded. “Your actions were honorable. And your warrior skills noted.” Zahn offered a tilt of his head, indicating he knew of Borna’s past and agreed.

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“What do you mean you are on those chips?” Dawn asked, fighting to put her nightmares to rest. The past was done. All she knew now was Borna had given her the chips and told her to destroy them. She had to rely on that knowledge that Borna was not working with the Bortan. Borna stood slowly, and then reached into her pants pocket and pulled out a small knife. Trent straightened. He’d seen this woman in action, watched her fight by his side, and even save his good friend, Marc of Torin, while fighting on Benox. The woman fought for her own cause, her battle brewing deeper inside her than most. At the time, she’d posed as a simple farmhand, a person with no rank. Yet he and Marc of Torin had learned the truth about her, discovered that in fact she held one of the highest rankings a Bortan could carry. And she’d walked away from it. Her personal battles gave her a hard edge. It would take a lot to crack this woman. And as she stood there on the other side of the table, knife in hand, holding it in front of her, demons creased the lines around her eyes. She was a woman on a mission so huge, it could very easily destroy her. And at the same time, make her very hard to destroy. The side of the knife caught the light of the room, its silver edge glistening. Borna wouldn’t attack anyone. Trent sensed no aggression about her, but he was prepared if she made any hasty moves. Those chips would not leave his presence. In the wrong hands, they could mean the death of his solar system. Borna stuck her arm out and pulled up the sleeve. In front of all of them, she ran the blade over her flesh, slicing her arm. She winced, sucking in air. Dawn jumped to her feet while the pungent smell of fresh blood filled their nostrils. “What are you doing?” Dawn cried out, and grabbed the knife from Borna before the woman could stop her. “It’s okay,” Borna said through gritted teeth. Trent stood as well, reaching for a cloth that was folded next to the carafe of wine. He pressed the material on Borna’s arm. The woman made a face, her pain obvious. But then slowly pulled her arm away from his grasp. “By the gods,” Dawn said in disbelief, staring at the silver implants underneath Borna’s skin. “You’re a fucking Bortan.” “Yes,” Borna said, sitting down heavily. Dawn took the cloth from Trent and moved around the table, helping Borna to wrap the wound. “A drastic act to prove a needed point.” Zahn Corl sounded like he praised the woman for her act. “And if those chips are reproduced, and given to my people, you won’t be able to tell us from the Gren.” Her point settled heavily on the small group. Chapter Seventeen

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Dawn had no idea that a homecoming meal entailed staying over at the host’s house. When her father had instructed his servants to show his guests to their rooms, she’d been ready to protest. Trent had given her a shrewd look, and with a slight squeeze of her hand had silently told her to accept the invitation. She hadn’t slept well at all, and now was more than grouchy. She’d hoped and prayed to the gods that Trent would come to her during the night, her body in agony. She needed him so badly, wanting him buried deep inside her, the pressure that had build the night before still not subsiding. Yet no one had come to her door. Too many times to count she’d thrown the heavy blankets off of her, slid over to the side of the bed that was way too large for one person to sleep in, and padded to the door. Once she’d even opened it, stepped out into the quiet hallway. No one had been in sight. The servants had escorted them to the far wing of the house, far away from where the Corl family slept, she’d been sure. Trent had been assigned a room down the hall from her, Borna in the room next to hers. Now, dressed and bathed, she stood in that hallway once again, wondering where Trent was. She wore the same dress she’d had on the night before, not having brought a change of clothing. Fingering the thick fabric, a sense of awkwardness ran through her, the urge to walk down the hall to Trent’s room enveloping her. Visioning him opening his door, sleep having left his hair tousled, she imagined pushing against his hard chest, entering the room while the door closed behind her. She wouldn’t have to say a word, simply run her fingertips up his broad shoulders. That hunger would be in his eyes. His powerful arms would be around her and carrying her to the bed without a word. Dawn ached to feel his hard cock pressed against her, throbbing, swelling with an eagerness to penetrate her. “Sleep well?” Borna asked from behind her. Dawn turned, startled out of her fantasy. “Sure,” she lied. “Me neither,” Borna said, giving no indication she’d just called Dawn a liar. The woman was dressed in Gren attire today, black Gren leather pants hugging her muscular legs and displaying her firm narrow waist. She’d donned a pullover black shirt that hugged her in all the right places showing off full, rather large breasts. Her hair was as black as Dawn’s and fell loose over her shoulders and down to her waist. It was still damp from bathing, giving it a glossy appearance. Borna gave her the once-over while Dawn did the same. The woman’s brown eyes traveled from her head, down to her toes, and then back up again. Dawn met her gaze. “You really could pass for Gren,” Borna said. “But those gray eyes…they are quite captivating. I can see what Trent sees in you.” “I’ve been told I’m beautiful all my life,” Dawn confessed, not meaning anything vain by the comment. “And I’m sure you’ve heard the same. Having someone see beyond the pretty face is what matters.” “Agreed.” Borna gestured with her head that Dawn follow her. “Zahn called for Trent early this morning. I wasn’t able to hear what they said to each other but they both left before the suns rose. Prel Corl

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controls the servants and since I’m sure she wishes neither of us were in her home, we’re going to have to fend for ourselves for food.” So Trent was gone. An emptiness swarmed through her that she’d never experienced before. There was no way of knowing if he’d left her for good, feeling she was safe at her father’s home, or if he intended to come back. His words on her ship clung to her while worry consumed her.Don’t ever take off without me again. Well, he had done just that. She wasn’t property. If he issued an order, he would follow the same rules, or there was nothing. Dawn shoved her worry out of the way, fought to stifle the panic that slowly tried to consume her. She’d be damned if she sat around looking pretty until Trent Dar decided to give her the time of day. “How is your arm?” Changing the subject could only help keep her mind off Trent. Dawn studied Borna’s arm, her long-sleeve shirt giving no indication that there might be a bandage underneath. “I’m fine.” Borna didn’t look like the type of woman who would complain about pain. “Let’s go find food. I’m starved.” Holding her head high, she followed Borna down the hallway, away from the direction of Trent’s room. Sweet-smelling ivy, its orange leaves adding color to the otherwise simple elevator, crawled from its pot and covered part of the wall. “Kitchen,” Borna said simply, and then the two stood in silence while the tiny box-like transporter lowered them to the main floor. A sense of sneaking into the master’s home rushed through her when Borna looked both ways after the doors opened silently and a grand hallway appeared. Without a word, she hurried down the back hallway, and Dawn followed silently. Dawn actually felt more at home entering the kitchen through the servants’ entrance than she had the night before in the fancy hall where they’d dined. This room had an entirely different atmosphere from the rest of the house. A stone floor, covered with dried straw, muted the sound of her boots. Grease hung heavy in the air, while a mixture of herbs from a nearby drying closet tickled her senses with memories of home. “What you need?” an overweight servant asked, her non-blinking black eyes narrowing on the two of them. “We missed breakfast. And any of the gossip would be fine to go along with it.” Borna spoke like they were old friends, although Dawn doubted the two knew each other. With a huff, the woman turned around and then dropped a pan of biscuits onto the counter in the middle of the room. A couple of young girls came in from a side door, bringing the cool morning air in with them. Their chatter stopped when they saw Borna and Dawn. Borna grabbed a couple of stools and pulled them to the counter indicating Dawn should take one of them. She reached for one of the biscuits and ripped it in two.

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“Don’t stop your talk on our account,” she said to the girls with her mouth full. Dawn hadn’t had an appetite the night before and now was famished. She picked up one of the biscuits, which almost flaked apart in her hand. Taking a bite she was surprised at how good it tasted, and quickly stuffed some more in her mouth. “This is good,” she told the cook, knowing it had always gotten her points at home when praising the cook’s work. “What do you two want?” The cook pointed a large ladle at them, wagging it back in forth between the two of them. “We won’t be saying a word around you that might cause us trouble. This is good work. None of us plan on messing up a paying job.” Borna held her hands up in a sign of surrender. “You know surely that if we held any weight with the lady of the house, we’d have dined with her this morning. And don’t tell me that you don’t already know we barely match your rank.” The cook was quiet for a moment, taking in what Borna had just said. Dawn knew that it hadn’t been too long ago when she didn’t come close to the rank of the cook. A slave had no clout whatsoever. And she knew if this House of Corl was anything like the Ryl Plantation, the house servants knew more about what was going on, oftentimes faster than the master did. “There’s wine in the cooler if you’re thirsty,” she told them, turning back to her work. Being offered free rein in the kitchen was always a good sign that you were accepted. Dawn stood, turning toward the large door in the wall, and pulled it open, finding a large jug half full of the sweet wine they’d been served the night before. She would have preferred water, but knew on Greneen that was a commodity. She brought the wine to the counter. One of the girls shyly brought over a couple of cups, watching her carefully. “What was it like being a sex slave?” she asked shyly, only to receive another huff from the cook who didn’t bother to turn around. “It was terrible,” Dawn answered honestly, seeing the curiosity in the two girls’ eyes. “Did you have to have sex with a lot of different men?” the other girl asked, looking like the idea of having sex with any man appealed to her. “They tried to make me,” Dawn told her. “But I fought them so much that I think they got tired of beating me. For the most part I just got ignored.” Within the next few minutes, Dawn had a handful of servants surrounding them at the counter as she shared experiences of her life on Ryl Plantation. Even the cook brought over drippings from one of the pans and more biscuits while the lot of them enjoyed the small feast and listened, all full of questions. “So when did you find out that your father was Zahn Corl?” one of the servants asked, after the jug of wine and most of the biscuits were almost gone. “I take it all of the chores are done for the morning?” Zook Corl leaned in the doorway to the kitchen, glaring at the lot of them.

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“Party’s over,” Borna mumbled, hopping off the stool. She tugged at Dawn’s sleeve. Dawn’s heart pounded in her chest at the sudden interruption from the oldest son of the house. A sudden hush fell on the room, and then all servants began scurrying, hurrying to get to whatever task was assigned to them, and vacated the room before they got in trouble. Dawn followed the Bortan woman outside, the cool air refreshing after breathing in the grease-filled warm air in the kitchen. Greneen had a thin sky, with trees everywhere. The small planet was so different from Poltar, its air heavy and cold. She was grateful for the weight of the fabric for blocking some of the cold that wrapped around her. “Were you able to get some medicine to treat your arm?” she asked, not sure what else to say to the woman, but not wanting to be left alone. Dawn definitely felt like she was on enemy ground here. “I’m fine.” Borna continued to walk away from the house, seeming to know where she was going. Dawn followed, not having anything else to do. Glancing around, she realized they were on the back side of the house. They reached the side and continued their trek along a well-kept path. The house was large, and the shadows cold, but her attention was sidetracked with reaching the front of the house. It didn’t surprise her when they did that Trent’s carrier was gone. She couldn’t believe he would just leave her there. Another carrier was parked there and she guessed it belonged to Borna. “Leaving us already?” Zook spoke up from behind them. Dawn turned, staring into the face of the young man. Outside, with no hard glances warning her to behave, he didn’t intimidate her. Although taller, he didn’t have the powerful frame of Trent. Still a boy, but struggling to be a man, he straightened, his gaze not faltering. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” she asked, more curious to hear his answer than to challenge him. “It doesn’t matter to me either way if you stay or if you go.” He was lying although managed to keep his expression almost neutral. Dawn sensed something about him though, some kind of morbid curiosity she felt inclined to explore. After all, this was her half-brother. “How long have you known about me?” she asked. “We were told only yesterday,” he answered without hesitating. “Must have come as quite a shock.” She turned, realizing Borna hadn’t stopped, and hurried to catch up. Zook followed behind her. “How long have you known my father was your father?” he asked. “I’ve always known,” she told him, remembering the exact day her mother had told her, but not wanting

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to share the intimate moment that had given her so much hope, with this man who scorned her. It had been early in the morning, and she remembered when her mother had returned to the small cottage that they shared with several other slaves from Ryl Plantation. Dawn knew the routine of drawing bathwater for her mother and that morning hadn’t been much different. She’d filled the tub in the corner of the cottage just like her mother liked it and had it nice and steamy when she’d entered the cottage, naked, with handprints on her body. It wasn’t an unusual sight. And her mother’s state never seemed to bother her. Men would fondle her, use her as they wished, have her do all kinds of things, and her mother had never complained. If anything, she seemed to take pride in who she was. It was a trait that Dawn had admired and at the same time scorned. Her mother had no desire to be anything other than what she was, property to be used as the master saw fit. It was her mother’s peaceful contentment with life that Dawn had never mastered. “This is what we’re bred to do,” she had told Dawn in one of her many efforts to try and get her daughter to succumb to her life as a sex slave. That particular morning her mother had been glowing when she returned to the cottage, all smiles and almost dancing her way inside the small room. “I saw your father last night,” she’d said while testing the water with her toes. Dawn had almost dropped the dish of soap. “I have a father?” She’d never thought about it, never given any thought to who might have sired her. The children of the slaves ran freely among all of the adults, little concern given as to who had planted the seed, or who had birthed them. None of that mattered since they would be sold, or taken to the house as soon as they reached the age where they could fuck. Her mother’s grin had been full of mischief as she sank into the steaming water. “You can’t say anything,” she’d whispered. “The master doesn’t want you to know. But your father is a very important man. He isn’t a slave like us.” Dawn hadn’t understood. She’d taken her mother’s words to memory, but at that moment they had meant nothing. It had been months, maybe years later, when she’d heard about him again. That time it had been after one of the encounters she’d had with the master. She’d been young, barely a teenager, and had fought the master’s first attempt to have sex with her. “I can’t believe you slapped him,” her mother had said through tears, the women around her trying to comfort her after she’d been whipped. The master hadn’t punished her but her mother. “Spread your legs and show me how well you can fuck and your mother won’t suffer.” Dawn had thrown up before she’d been able to give in. The other slaves hadn’t talked to her for at least a week after that. “You’ve got too much of your father’s blood in you,” one of the other slaves had scolded, before her mother had told the woman to shut up. “Who is my father?” Dawn had asked, but no one would answer her.

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Later that night, lying in bed next to her mother and doing her best not to touch her so that she wouldn’t hurt her after she’d been whipped, her mother had told her. “And he lives on a planet that is fifth in the Ryclox solar system, a place called Greneen,” her mother had said. “He’s very important, and when he visits, he always asks for me.” Even with the red welts traveling across her body, her mother had spoken with pride. Not pride that she had birthed a daughter of a very important man, but pride in that she could sexually please him better than any of the other slaves at Ryl Plantation. For some reason, that knowledge had always bothered Dawn. But at the same time, she’d secretly done everything she could to learn about the man who’d given her life. Sneaking into the master’s rooms when he wasn’t around, she’d looked at the maps, learned where her father lived, and done her best to learn about the Gren. It was after the night when she’d finally lost her virginity that her mom had told her. “Zahn Corl will never know you now. Now you are truly a sex slave.” Whether her mom had been saddened by that knowledge or not, Dawn had never been able to tell. She hurried along the path at the front of the house, walking toward the carrier that Borna had just opened up. “Where are you going?” she asked, not wanting to be left at her father’s home. After all the years of wanting to know about him, aching to learn how he lived, she now wanted nothing more than to leave and possibly never look back. This wasn’t her life. She knew she hadn’t found the life for her yet, but staying here and enduring people who barely tolerated her was no better than the life she’d had on Ryl Plantation. Borna had climbed into the carrier, and started the craft with one hand, holding the other to her side. “Do you have the chips?” she asked, ignoring the fact that Zook had come to stand beside Dawn. “No.” Dawn remembered Trent scooping them up when Zahn Corl had announced that the three of them would be shown to their rooms. She hadn’t seen them, or him since. “Well, apparently neither of us rated word as to what those two planned to do with them. That bothers me.” She glanced past Dawn to Zook, her brown eyes darkening while she spoke. “And I plan to find out what is going on.” “Take me with you.” Already Dawn had climbed into the carrier. There was the chance that Trent would return, wonder where she’d went. But damn it to all the hells, the man wouldn’t just leave her without word and expect her to sit and wait like a good girl. That wasn’t how it would be. She turned to see Zook take a step backward, his expression showing emotion that wasn’t characteristic of the Gren she’d known so far. And she knew what he was feeling. He craved adventure too, and had always been left behind. “I want you to know something,” she said to him. “I’m not sure what ceremony took place last night. Your ways are foreign to me, I don’t deny that. But it was never my intention to come here and take over

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as the oldest child.” Zook opened his mouth as if he would speak, and then closed it again. “I never meant to disrupt your family,” she added, meaning it. Zook nodded and then brought himself to attention, looking very much like the boy she realized that he still was. Living in his father’s shadow, he’d never been given the opportunity to grow up. “May your battles be successful,” he said, his face once again properly masked, showing no emotion. Dawn nodded, not sure of what the proper response was. Chapter Eighteen

“There’s trouble,” Borna said, only minutes after they were airborne. Dawn watched Borna work the controls with one hand, and tried to understand what she saw on the panels. “Can you work the search panel?” Borna asked, not looking at Dawn but paying attention to the controls in front of her. “Sure.” Dawn leaned forward, not having a clue how the equipment in the carrier worked, but damned determined to figure it out. She stared at the program Borna had brought up, looking at the screen that displayed blinking lights and a diagram that looked like a map of Greneen and the ships and space stations surrounding it. There seemed to be an awful lot of activity going on. “Here.” Borna pointed with her bad arm toward a group of buttons. “Pull up the communication at the space station.” Dawn did her best, with Borna guiding her, and soon they could hear the transmissions going on between the station that orbited Greneen, where her ship was, and the main outfit of military for Greneen. “We count ten ships in the first fleet. They left Bort less than an hour ago.” A man’s voice announced the information and Dawn frowned, glancing at Borna. “Damn it to all of the hells. I knew this would happen.” Borna hit the controls with her fist, anger flaring across her pretty face. “The Bortan have never attacked Greneen.” “Maybe they aren’t going to now.” Dawn couldn’t tolerate the thought of being on yet another planet that would be attacked by the nasty race. “There is only one way to find out.” Borna’s expression grew hard. “But I need a better communication system than this.” Dawn only had to think for a minute. “I have a TR-class ship orbiting this planet. It would have the

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equipment you need.” Borna turned at her, smiling. “We’re going to need it.” She accelerated quickly until they were out of the atmosphere of the planet and orbiting Greneen. Clarifying with the space station their intention, they were granted passage to board Dawn’s ship. Less than an hour later, the carrier slowed and came to a stop in the landing bay of Dawn’s ship. It felt damn good to be “home”. And that was exactly how she felt about her ship. Dawn led the way through the landing bay toward the command room of her ship. The controlled environment, her boots clicking on the solid floor, the smooth hum surrounding her of the ship’s engines, all of it offered a security that she was safe. However its emptiness nagged at her, memories of her friends from Poltar, of Trent, haunting her while she entered the ship’s main room. Borna made herself right at home, seeming to know more about Dawn’s ship than Dawn did. Her actions reminded Dawn of Trent, the way she quickly worked the controls and repeatedly glanced up at the large screen in front of them until she had the information that she wanted. “I can’t believe this,” she said, running her fingers through her thick hair. “What?” Dawn wished she had half of Borna’s warrior skills, her calm ways while staring at a panel that appeared to show almost a dozen Bort ships heading their way. “We will be annihilated,” Borna said, not looking up. “We?” Dawn asked. “Yes.” Borna gave her a hard look. “I don’t deny who I am. What my people are doing is wrong, but nonetheless, I’m Bortan. I’m not ashamed of that.” Dawn didn’t understand, but Borna looked away after a moment, and left her wondering what it would be like to be in torment with her own people. She barely focused on the panel in front of her when it dawned on her that she’d despised who she was too, yet still despised the Bortan for destroying her life. Glancing at Borna , she saw the woman in a new light. Proud of who she was, but despising what her people did, somehow hit a bit close to home. “Look at this.” Borna pointed, adjusting the controls and then looking up at the screen on the wall in front of them. Dawn felt the floor move under her feet when she stared into the star-filled space that appeared in front of her. Fighting off dizziness she managed to hold her ground when something flew past her ship. “What was that?” she whispered, realizing she white-knuckled the edge of the control panel. “Greneen is sending out fighter pilots.” Borna stood back from the panel, a look of disbelief crossing her face. “The Bortan are going to get their asses kicked.” Dawn glanced down at the panel, and then up at the screen in front of her. Several ships passed by them. Without another thought, she reached for the panel, engaging engines. “What are you doing?” Borna cried out.

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“Get in your seat.” Dawn took control of the ship, bringing it around, breaking orbit. “I’m sorry, Borna. But if the Bortan are going down today, I’m going to be a part of it.” “No!” Borna grabbed Dawn’s wrists, giving no sign that the quick action affected her injured arm. Determination made her expression hard. Her dark eyes burned with the intensity of emotions that crossed her face. “We will watch. But I can’t be a part of this fight.” Dawn had her ship out of orbit, moving into deeper space. Borna’s hands were cold against her wrists, but she hadn’t managed to prevent her from slowing the ship. “You’ve already announced that you disapprove of what your people have done.” Dawn managed to free her hands from Borna’s grasp and stared the woman in the face. “There is no way I can sit here and watch the Bortan send out more ships, ships that will destroy life, continue to take down the solar system.” “I don’t approve of what my people are doing. And I’ve made no secret of it.” Although shorter, Borna stood her ground in front of Dawn. Putting her hands on her hips, she glared at Dawn. “That doesn’t mean I wish my planet destroyed. You didn’t like being a slave, but the destruction of your home burns deep in your soul. Tell me that it doesn’t.” “And the Bortan did that to my home,” Dawn hissed, but then Borna’s words slowly drifted through her. She let out a sigh, running her fingers through her hair while she turned her attention to the screen that showed they were moving deeper into space, heading for the line of fire. A red light started flashing on the control panel, grabbing their attention. Someone was hailing the ship. Dawn slapped the button that would allow the transmission to come through. “Prepare to be boarded.” Trent’s voice filled the control room. At the same time the engines strained against a force field that forcibly slowed their ship. Dawn looked quickly at the screen, her heart suddenly racing at the realization that Trent had arrived. Yet at the same time wonder filled her that she hadn’t noticed another ship closing in on them. Borna moved quickly, decreasing engine speed. “The force field will tear at the exterior if we don’t slow down,” she explained. Dawn stood next to her, adjusting the view of the screen in front of them. A Gren ship paralleled them. While they watched a carrier left the ship, oddly appearing as if the ship had simply opened up and burped it out. Dawn opened communications. “Turn off your force field. We can’t open the landing bay for you until you do.” The engines lowered their hum while the instruments in front of her showed the force field had been dropped. At the same time, the ship paralleling them cut off to the side, leaving the carrier that approached them. Dawn pushed the necessary buttons and then turned to meet Trent. Waiting until the carrier was docked, and the landing bay doors shut, she pressed the button next to the door. It slid open silently, in time for

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her to see Trent Dar disembark from the carrier. Two other men were with him. His cape swarmed around him as he approached her, the two Gren behind him. In all black, with their boots clicking rhythmically against the floor, they appeared a dangerous lot. Their long capes made them appear larger than they were, and non-blinking black eyes appeared to miss nothing as they neared her. Dawn stepped to the side, allowing them entrance onto the main part of the ship. Trent barely acknowledged her, moving ahead purposely toward the helm. Just his scent, a mixture of Gren leather and something very much Trent, filled her senses, making it hard to do much more than stare at him for a moment. Her heart came to a stop, Trent filling her control room, appearing larger than life. “Pull this ship out of the line of battle,” he ordered, his tone fierce, demanding. The two men with him hurried to her control panels, ignoring both her and Borna. Suddenly Dawn’s heart began racing too fast. Her breath came to her so quickly she felt lightheaded. He was so tall, so powerful, so incredibly in charge. But this was her ship. Licking her lips, she knew she had to stand up to him, once again remind him that he couldn’t walk all over her, leave her and reenter her life without a word, taking over the second he was in her presence. She opened her mouth to tell him as much when he turned and acknowledged her for the first time. “Take over on weapons,” he instructed, his black eyes taking her in with a single glance. He’d barely had time to finish the task of destroying the Bortan chips when they’d received word of the ships leaving Bort. After parting ways with Zahn Corl, he knew that even though he’d tossed over his resignation to Command Center, there was no way he would sit out on this fight. It hadn’t taken much to manage a ship. Hoping to reach Dawn’s ship before it was endangered in its current orbit, he shouldn’t have been surprised to see that she was already aboard, and getting ready to stick her cute little ass where she had no right being. She looked ready to protest, her lips pursing with a defiant expression. If there had been time he would have loved to kiss that look right off of her face. But the Bortan were closing in. “We’ve got visuals on the Bortan.” Mash Ke, a Gren for hire that Trent had known for quite a while, stood to his left, monitoring their tracking devices. “I’m counting six ships approaching at high speed.” “They’ve sent out scopers.” Trent turned his attention to the screen in front of all of them. “Put it up on visuals.” “Scopers are a bad sign.” Borna had moved to the back of the room. She leaned against the wall, her arms crossed, silently stating she had no intention of helping them fight. Dawn had never been more out of her league. It had been one nightmare standing on the ground, watching the ships fly overhead, attacking and destroying, with no means of defense. Now she stood on the bridge of her ship, capable of attacking, of fighting back. Her heart raced so hard she could hardly breathe.

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Six long, thin ships, dark and menacing looking, appeared on the screen. “Magnify.” Trent leaned on his fists, staring at the screen. Dawn watched his profile, hard and focused, not a muscle twitching, his expression revealing nothing that might be going through his head. He’d shoved his cape over his shoulders, revealing his muscular arms and the width of his chest. The man took her breath away. Staring at him she could almost forget where she was, the incredible danger looming around them. Trent filled her bridge with his power, his domination, his ability to master a situation. He’d fought the Bortan before, faced them and taken them down. This was her first time. Dawn forced herself to focus on the screen, her stomach turning with nerves. She prayed she wouldn’t get sick. Defying the master had been one thing. Leaving Poltar for the first time, meeting her father, taking on the Corl family—all of that had challenged her. But none of it compared to what she feared she was about to experience. “They’re geared up to attack.” Trent looked at her, for a moment sensing her fear, seeing the nerves that ransacked her body and turned her expression pale. “Dawn. Load the missiles.” He watched her turn her back to him, not responding but simply carrying out the order. She wasn’t used to combat of any kind and shouldn’t even be near the controls. This ship was hers though, and he doubted she would leave without a fight. Borna’s silent retreat to the back of the room was statement enough. As much as he’d like to put her to use, knowing the woman had combat skills that were comparable to his own, he respected her decision. Whether she was proud of it or not, the Bortan were her people. Unless she offered, he wouldn’t ask her to be part of the attack. Watching Dawn reach for the controls, push the necessary buttons, he admired her determination. She stood tall, calmly carrying out the task, preparing the missiles and then turning, looking at him. Her gray eyes swarmed with emotions. Her brow creased with worry, her lips pursed with determination. There wasn’t time to learn why she had left Corl’s home. He’d learned of her departure when Zahn Corl’s son had contacted him, right before the man parted ways with him. Fire had raged through him that once again she’d run off without letting him know where she was going. He thought he had made it perfectly clear she wasn’t supposed to do that. The more he learned about her, the more he believed she had been one lousy-ass slave. She didn’t do a damn thing she was told to do. However, amazingly enough, so far, she seemed willing to take his orders. Damn good thing too. The last thing he needed right now was for her to get stubborn when they were nearing attack. A bright light filled the screen and he didn’t miss Dawn duck, suddenly covering her face with her arms. “They’ve attacked,” Rog Mor, the other man Trent had grabbed before heading for Dawn’s ship, yelled. “Open a channel to the Gren fighters. I want to hear all communications.” Trent issued the order and Mor pushed the necessary buttons. The bridge was suddenly full of excited voices, orders and demands flying back and forth as the Gren

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captains moved quickly to counterattack. Another explosion rattled the ship, the screen filling with light briefly as a nearby ship exploded. Tension filled the room, all members ready with their fingers on their controls while they watched the screen. “We’ve got a transmission coming in,” Mor announced. “Put it on broadcast.” Trent glanced over at Dawn, her expression taut with fear. “Who commands your ship?” It was the high commander of the Gren army, her face appearing on the screen as she searched her own screen. Her expression relaxed and she straightened. “Trent Dar. I won’t ask why you man a TR-class ship. We welcome your assistance.” Trent nodded, studying the warrior who stared at him over the large screen in front of them. He knew little about her, other than she was one of the many higher-ranking Gren who maintained the space immediately surrounding their planet. Another explosion rocked the ship, and he gripped the controls in front of him. Glancing around, everyone maintained their positions. Dawn’s back was to him, her hands white-knuckling the control panel in front of her. He turned his attention back to the commander. “Let us know how we can assist,” he told her, using his calm tone, knowing Dawn would do better if she didn’t realize the severity of their dilemma at the moment. They were in immediate line of fire. Another explosion shook the ship, way too close for comfort. Lights flickered around them, and the screen in front of them went blank. “Trent!” Dawn cried out, her fears climaxing in her tone. “Switch me over to manual communications,” Trent barked, pulling his comm from his pocket. He quickly wrapped it around his face and spoke to the commander through the small device. “The attack is directly on Greneen,” Mash Ke announced. “The scopers are surrounding us, and it appears there are at least ten more ships appearing on the scanners.” “Take out as many as you can,” Trent ordered and at the same time moved over to Dawn’s station. She hadn’t moved when he gave the order. Dawn sucked in air, fighting the panic that rushed through her. Bortan were everywhere—all over again. Trent was behind her immediately, his powerful arms reaching around her, his hands moving over hers as he reached for the buttons. “I can do it,” she whispered, almost more to herself than to him. She wouldn’t break. She wouldn’t let the Bortan get the better of her. If she was going to die today, she would be damned if she didn’t go down with a fight. Chapter Nineteen

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It could have been hours, or maybe days that passed and Dawn wasn’t sure. Her hair hung heavily around her face, nervous sweat coating her body. The temperature controls weren’t functioning properly. They couldn’t be. She was way too warm. Trent stayed close to her side, managing to move from the helm to her weapons panel with quick ease. He had to give it to her, Dawn was holding her own. A few times she hesitated, looking around her as if the walls would reveal what was going on around them in space. More than fear, he saw curiosity and wonder in those beautiful gray eyes. The men he had hired stayed close to their task, manning their position with skill and ease. Borna paced behind them, her nervous energy filtering around them. But Dawn had her attention everywhere as if she needed to see everything that happened around her and didn’t want to miss a thing. Her expression glowed with her emotions showing. She was more alive than he’d ever seen her. The attacks were serious, more Bortan ships had been sent out than he’d initially thought. Adrenaline pumped through him, ships blowing up around them, while continual transmissions flooded the airwaves. Calls for help, victory cries, all of it surrounded him, filling him with an energy that surged through his blood. Her ship was holding up. Monitoring the battle going on around them, Trent grieved silently with every Gren ship that exploded. They moved closer to victory, though, every time a Bortan ship exploded. Curiosity had the better of him, his warrior nature dying to know what compelled the race to launch the attack. He had his suspicions, which he kept to himself for the time being. There was no way to confirm at this point, even though he sensed victory would soon be theirs. With the initial attack against Gren over, he’d moved Dawn’s ship deeper into space, monitoring activity around the other planets. There was time now to focus on Dawn, her black hair shining down her back, her expression alive with the adrenaline he knew pumped through her. She kept her attention on the screen in front of them, although all it showed was deep space. Dawn wished she knew what was going on. Time no longer seemed to have meaning. Silence had loomed around the bridge for too long now. Glancing at the warriors Trent had brought with him, she saw the strain etched on their faces. These were Gren, trained warriors, yet they still showed the strain of having been in battle for so long. Borna didn’t say anything when she walked silently off of the bridge, disappearing through the doorway that led into the kitchen. Dawn stared at the door as it slid silently closed, wishing she could go with her, quench her thirst, sit for just a moment. Her entire body ached, her muscles cramping and her head aching. “We have an update.” Trent showed no excitement when he made the announcement, his tone calm, relaxed. Dawn looked over at him. At some point he’d removed his cape and his tall powerful body appeared as refreshed as if he’d just walked on to duty. Too many years as a warrior had seasoned him, made him immune to the stress that wrenched through her. “Apparently the Bortan attacked Poltar and Benox at the same time we were attacked,” he said, looking

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down at his controls as he pressed his comm to his ear, listening. “So far, all planets remain in control of themselves. The Bortan are weakening.” Dawn tried exhaling but it came out as a staggered breath. Trent went to her, knowing she couldn’t take much more without a break. A good warrior kept his crew refreshed, rotating them. He didn’t have that freedom, but he would give her this moment while they had it. “Come with me,” he told her, taking her arm and pulling her to him as he spoke. She didn’t fight him, didn’t ask any questions, but leaned against him as he walked off the bridge. His men would hold up for quite some time, but Dawn didn’t have their training, and he needed this moment alone with her. Borna glanced up at them, having taken respite at the round table in the kitchen area, and stood when they entered. He doubted she would man a post, but she left them, returning to the bridge when they entered. “I’m proud of you today, warrior,” he whispered, stroking a damp strand away from the side of her face. Running his hand over the side of her head, her silky hair soft against his palm, he brushed his knuckles against her cheek. She looked up at him, a mixture of worry and relief swarming in the depths of her gray orbs. Wrapping his arm around her, he stroked her chin with his fingers, leaning her head back further so that he had all of her attention. Silently she called out to him, luring him to her with a brush of her tongue over her lip. He took her mouth, relishing her taste, her heat, her determination to show him she was strong. She opened to him, her tongue reaching out to greet his, stroke his mouth, feed the hunger he hadn’t paid attention to over the past few hours. When she stretched against him, pressing her breasts against his chest, reaching up to wrap her arms around his neck, he could truly put the battle out of his head, feed off of her. Dawn was a gift he knew he could never let go. No woman could distract him like she could, offer him so much, and stand by his side during battle without a complaint. She wasn’t a warrior. She had no training in battle. Yet she didn’t panic, she didn’t beg to leave. Dawn was a natural-born fighter, a woman who knew what she wanted and wouldn’t settle for less. Something washed through him, an emotion he couldn’t name. Ownership—no, fulfillment. Dawn was his other half, the woman he needed with him to complete who he was. With slow realization, the fact that he loved her took over his thoughts. He wrapped both his arms around her, holding her so close he could feel her hipbones pressing against him, her breasts smashed into his chest, her slender body molding against him like a perfect fit, the gentle throb of her heart. “Damn,” he whispered into her mouth, opening his eyes to look down at her flushed expression. “Don’t let go,” she whispered, her lips glistening from his mouth. “I don’t plan on it.” And he meant it. For the first time in his life he knew he was where he belonged, holding the woman who embraced him

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with just as much desire for him as he had for her. “Do you think the battle is over?” she asked, tracing lines with her fingertips against his shoulders. She watched the action, feeling his muscles tighten and the quiver against her touch. He was so solid, yet she felt like she could reach right through him. For the first time since she’d met Trent Dar, she swore his emotions merged with her own. He watched her. She knew that without looking up at his face, he’d relaxed, still holding her against him, but she sensed something she hadn’t experienced with him yet. “We don’t have final reports in yet.” He knew it would take hours before everyone reported in, and he had a feeling the information wouldn’t be good. Never had the Bortan staged such a large attack. Something had triggered their wrath, their motivation to strike out at all planets at once. Either they were close to destruction, and making one final attempt to regain control. Or they had been so outraged by some occurrence that they had retaliated out of fury. He knew the answers would come soon. In the meantime, all he wanted was to hold Dawn, be as close to her as possible. Now wasn’t the time for lovemaking, which was what he wanted to do. He ached to take her into her bedroom, slowly undress her and enjoy every sultry curve of her body. Trent craved to be inside her, fuck her until she screamed. But he wanted—no, he needed so much more than that. He gave in to his thoughts. He wanted to make love to her, take her in a way he’d never had a woman before. He wanted her to know his feelings, his thoughts, and he needed to know hers. “How much time do we have?” She looked up at him with her long lashes fluttering over her gray eyes. Heat flushed her cheeks, adding to her sensuality. Her gaze was seductive, a look he prayed she’d never given another man. Gods. More than anything he wanted to know she was his that she would never turn to another man. He needed that information, that confirmation. Dawn moved against him. It was on the tip of her tongue to suggest they go to her bedroom. They wouldn’t be bothered. The men he’d brought with him wouldn’t dare disturb Trent Dar. And Borna would be fine. Dawn wasn’t worried about her. All she could think about was his hard cock that throbbed against her, letting her know that he needed her as much as she needed him. “Not enough time for that,” he told her, a growl escaping him before he could silence it. Dawn sighed, that growl of his soaking her pussy. A pressure began in her womb, building, intensifying, slowly consuming her until she swore she would cry out with the pain of needing him. “There’s got to be enough time for something.” She needed him more than she needed to breathe. Running her palms down his arms, gripping his hard muscles, feeling his strength, she looked up into those solid black eyes. Never had he looked at her the way he did right now. She dared to reach up, stroke his cheek, the smallest of muscles twitching when she stroked the bottom of his cheek. “Woman. You could make me forget our worlds are under attack.” She sighed, looking down. She was being selfish and he was right. Forcing herself to think of how her home had been destroyed, of all the bodies she had helped bury, she suddenly felt bad for wanting time

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alone with Trent. There were people dying because of the Bortan attacks. Possibly all planets had seen destruction. She didn’t know, and she should be trying to find out, not standing here trying to seduce Trent. A beeping sound grabbed both of their attention. The door to the bridge slid open and Rog Mor filled the entrance, his intent gaze not missing what was happening between the two of them. He cleared his voice. “Command Center is asking to open a line,” he said without giving any indication if catching them in a compromising position bothered him, or if the incoming transmission bothered him or not. “We can take it in here,” Dawn said, letting her hands fall free from Trent. Trent nodded to the Gren who took a step backward and then turned, the door to the kitchen sliding silently shut, leaving them alone once again. Trent moved away from her, turning his back to her as he faced the wall, pushing the buttons to accept the transmission. “This is Trent Dar,” he said, his voice so formal no one would have guessed moments before he’d been in her arms. She couldn’t help but take in his backside, his broad shoulders, the way his black hair fell down his neck. He was so powerful, could have anything he wanted, and the passion that burned through him to fight for any cause if he deemed it right made her heart swell with a realization that she didn’t want to live without him. Dawn sucked in a breath, the pressure that had consumed her turning into a painful need. Her heart stuttered through a few beats, her entire insides aching like they never had before. She wanted him—no, she needed him. Trent Dar had taken over her thoughts, her body, her entire sense of being. Dawn realized with a staggering realization that she might be experiencing love. She could be falling in love. The thought brought her pause. There was no way she’d ever experienced love. She’d cared for her mom, wanted no harm brought to her. But had she loved the woman who’d borne her, who’d given her life? If she had, it had never felt like this. “Dar. This is Mal Ree,” a woman’s voice said. “We’ve had quite a few casualties here and I’ve been asked to request you return to Molten.” “Where is Por Gree? How bad were you hit?” Trent asked, giving no sign that it mattered to him how bad the manmade satellite was hit. “Por Gree is dead. Our casualties are high.” The woman spoke with an eerie calmness that chilled Dawn’s blood. She moved closer to Trent, her thoughts immediately going to Pahr, Reen and Rayn. They had no way of defending themselves. She shouldn’t have left them when she knew they couldn’t manage without her. She ran her hand up his arm, gripping the solid muscle, needing his strength while she stared at the small panel on the wall. That piece of machinery embedded in the solid wall of her ship held the knowledge of whether the only people from her home still lived or not.

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“We need to go there,” she whispered, knowing she wouldn’t be able to think straight until she knew if her friends were safe or not. “I’ve been asked to seek your assistance,” the woman said. “For now, the Bortan have backed off. But most of our sensors are down, and we can’t determine if there will be another attack or not.” “On our way,” Trent said without ceremony. He quit the transmission and then turned, leaving her standing there while he returned to the bridge. “We’re headed to Poltar,” he announced to the small crew, taking his place at the helm, and staring at the main screen. He focused on no one, giving no indication of how the information had just affected him. Chapter Twenty

“We’re here!” Rayn clapped her hands, hurrying to the landing bay doors before Dawn had even stopped her ship. Several weeks had passed, and she felt nothing inside. Dawn knew there should be some sort of excitement, some sort of deep satisfaction in knowing the Bortan had been conquered, their ships had been destroyed and Poltar was now free of the disgusting race. She should be elated that she had the funds to rebuild Ryl, that she was returning to the only home she had ever known. It hadn’t been hard to find workers willing to help her rebuild the Ryl Plantation. Rayn, Pahr and Reen couldn’t wait to come home, see what had been done in restoring their home. Dawn wished she could feel just a bit of their excitement. She brought the ship to a halt, shutting down the engines once it rested on solid ground. Following her friends, she exited the place that felt more like home to her now than she feared any new home might. The brightness of the suns made her squint, warm air sinking into her skin. “We’re home,” Pahr said, wrapping his arm around her. His hug should have been reassuring. “It’s good to be here,” she said, managing a smile for all of them. They walked over the uneven ground, all of them focusing on the large structure that the people she had hired had managed to build in the past few weeks. It was far from being the home that once stood there, but they had come a long way. “I want to go inside.” Rayn clapped her hands together, turning with an eager grin toward all of them. “We’ve got smaller cottages suitable to house you for the time it takes to finish the main house.” A foreman had walked up to greet them, wiping his hands against his shirt. “That cook you hired does a

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mighty fine job, and the rooms in the cottages are clean. I’ll be happy to show you each to where you can stay for the time being.” Dawn didn’t care where she stayed. Returning to her ship would have been fine with her. But Poltar needed her. The people were rebuilding, seeing hope, taking back their towns and trying to reestablish a life for themselves. She glanced up at Molten, barely visible against the glare of the suns. Somewhere on that manmade satellite, Trent Dar oversaw the command position of Command Center. Having been offered the position if he would reenlist, Dawn had known Trent wouldn’t turn it down. She needed to be happy for him. And he wasn’t that far away, living and working on the moon that orbited her home planet. He might as well have been in another solar system though. She ached for him so desperately but knew he had his work up there, and her work was down here. Her people needed her, and she had plenty to do to keep her busy until she dropped from exhaustion at night. It was all that kept her going, and all that would keep her going. She wished she could regain her heart, recapture her ability to care. But Trent Dar had taken it, and she doubted she would feel again without him at her side. Walking across the land that she now officially owned, she strayed away from the others, her feet leading her to a private area without a thought entering her mind. Before she realized it, she stood alone in the quiet meadow, the hidden sanctuary where her mother rested. Sucking in a breath of warm air, she looked down at the simple grave marker. She blinked, her eyes suddenly burning from tears that refused to fall. “Hi, Mom,” she said, her voice cracking. “I’m home.” A warm breeze lifted the hair from her back, making it sway gently above her ass. Her skin was moist, the suns bearing down on her. She wore a dress made from the thin fabric so many Poltarian women wore. No longer did she dress like a slave. The slightly see-through fabric stayed in style so that women of culture could show off their lavish tattoos. Dawn had no desire to adorn her body with the beautiful ink drawings. But the thin material was suitable for her hot climate. She squatted in front of the large rock that marked where her mother lay in rest. She’d dug the grave herself, lifted her mother’s limp body and placed it in the hole in the ground. Tears had burned her eyes when she’d covered her mother with dirt, never to see her face again. “We’re going to make a good home here,” she said, brushing the dirt from the stone. “You would be proud of me.” She hoped that was the case. Sighing, she leaned back on her haunches, unable to keep her gaze from Molten, hovering above her, for very long. “Were you ever in love, Mom?” she whispered, stroking the rock, wishing she had someone to talk to about her feelings. “Did you love my father?” It had never been something she’d discussed with her mother, or with anyone. But right now, her mind filled with the image of Trent, she couldn’t stop the pulsing need that began in her pussy and worked its way through her body.

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More than anything she wanted to take a carrier to Molten, march into his office, and demand to know why he hadn’t contacted her over the past couple of weeks. Was she simply a fling that he now could so easily put out of his head? “If you were, I wish you would have warned me how painful it could be.” She stood slowly, the heat from the suns only adding to the fire that burned through her body. Need for Trent seemed to escalate with each day. She would’ve thought eventually it would go away, thoughts of him subsiding while her daily tasks took precedence. But so far, that hadn’t happened. Wiping moisture from her brow, she turned from the grave, not wanting to go back toward the workers she’d hired to bring Ryl Plantation back to life. She didn’t want to see anyone. The suns beat down on her with their heat while she traipsed across the meadow, the tall grass scraping against her bare legs. The thin sandals that barely covered her feet did little to protect her from the roughness of the untamed ground. This was the world she’d grown up on, though. And for all the years she’d ached to escape from it, to be free to explore the other planets, learn about other way of life, there was a twisted irony that she’d come back here by choice. Glancing ahead, waves of heat distorted the view in front of her. It took her a moment to realize a carrier had parked next to her ship. She paused, feeling the belt that hung loosely around her hips, where her laser was harnessed. Approaching slowly, she took in the terrain around her, spread out and open with no possibilities of anyone hiding from her, unless they were to lie flat in the grass. A drop of sweat trickled down her spine while her heart began beating faster. She paused, searching her surroundings, while pulling her laser from her belt at the same time. She saw no one. The carrier was Gren, she recognized the insignia. Her heart raced even faster at the possibility that it could be Trent. But anyone could be using a Gren carrier. They were common on Poltar. Besides, if Trent were here, he would have notified her that he was coming, let her know of his arrival so she could prepare herself. Walking the length of the carrier, she reached the landing bay entrance to her ship. It slid open silently, as if expecting her. The temperature controls had been adjusted and the cool air inside her ship attacked her senses momentarily. She walked into the landing bay, laser held out in front of her, moving silently until she reached the control panel on her ship. “Identify all members on board,” she said quietly into the speaker that triggered her ship’s computer. “Dawn Corl. Trent Dar.” The computer’s monotone sent shivers through her body. Her heart leapt to her throat. She wanted to run through the ship until she found him, leap into his arms, feel that powerful body pressed against hers.

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Forcing herself to breathe normally, she didn’t move for a moment. He’d made no attempt to contact her all this time. And now he simply showed up, entering her ship as if he owned it. She swallowed the lump in her throat and pressed the panel next to the door that led to the main part of her ship. Trent Dar stood on the bridge of Dawn’s ship, watching the controls in front of him that told him when Dawn had entered the ship, and when she’d decided to put her laser back on her hip. He waited patiently until the door slid open, and she appeared before him. The sight of her took his breath away. Wearing the trendy Poltarian style of a thin dress that was completely see-through, she moved like a goddess onto the bridge, her long black hair fanning down her front and parting over her shoulders to glide down her back. Soft gray eyes watched him, her slender body moving like the temptress he knew how well she was capable of being. The swell of her breasts, so firm with nipples hardening quickly while he watched, made every muscle inside of him harden. Her long slender legs, thin yet so well-toned, didn’t quite touch when he let his gaze lower to her shaven pussy, so easily visible through the thin sheath she wore. His cock sprang to life, instantly her captive and refusing to remain calm under his instruction. Trent took a step toward her, wanting more than anything to take her in his arms, carry her to her bedroom on the ship, and fuck her until neither of them had the energy to come anymore. Dawn stopped when he approached, her heart beating so hard that the blood pumped through her veins with a speed that left her lightheaded. Just the sight of him hardened her nipples into painful peaks. Her breasts swelled, aching for the heat of his mouth to soothe them, make her explode while he sucked and nibbled on each one. Her heartbeat matched the rapid pulsing that started in her clit, her pussy moistening while a pressure built inside her. Denied passion broke through the dam that had kept it at bay. Just looking at him made her cum. Damn it to all the hells. Trent Dar looked better than he had the last time she’d seen him. Standing in front of her, his cape hanging over his broad shoulders and parting just enough to allow her to see his muscular chest and fine-tuned body. The body of a warrior, alert and ready to pounce. And here she stood in front of him practically naked, and with no defenses, not even in her mind. “What are you doing here?” she asked, forcing herself to hold her position and not run into his arms. It tore her up inside but she didn’t know why he was here, or why he’d waited so long and not contacted her. She wouldn’t be able to handle the pain if he had come for military-related reasons. “You knew I would come for you.” He took a step closer, aware that her guard was up but more than willing to take it down. “Did I?” She raised an eyebrow, wishing she had known beyond a shadow of doubt that he would return for her. “You took long enough.” He fought the urge to grin. She was willing to take him on even as she stood before him, vulnerable and almost naked. He loved the fighter in her, the strong will that would never admit to fear, or worry. “There were matters to tend to.” He stood before her now, and still she didn’t move, made no attempt to touch him, yet stood before him as if she were a seasoned warrior not willing to break before him.

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“There will always be matters to tend to,” she whispered, a fiery spark igniting in her pretty gray eyes. “I won’t have a man who leaves me alone without a word.” “So now you have demands, do you?” He ached to claim her mouth, kiss that pouting expression right off of her face. “Yes. You are with me, or you’re not. And if you’re not, I’ll find someone who will be.” Her heart raced so hard in her chest she was sure he could see it pounding against her ribs. Standing up to him was harder to do than she’d imagined. She ran her tongue over her dry lips, almost melting inside when his gaze darted to the act and his lips parted just enough that she ached to lean into him and kiss him. “I don’t do ultimatums.” He reached for her, the urge to rip that flimsy dress from her body consuming him. She grabbed his wrist. “You will this time. If you want me, then you will promise right now that I will be by your side always.” Her fingers wrapped around his wrist did little to stop him. Grabbing the thin fabric that barely covered her body, he pulled hard. The material tore easily, and he ripped it away from the beautiful curves that tempted him underneath. “I already have you. You are mine. And I think you know that.” His growl should have terrified her. Tearing her clothes from her body should have been warning enough that she played with fire. But she took a step away from him, his male supremacy needing to be slapped down to size. Naked or not, he would see her mind, and see how it was going to be. She put her hands on her hips, glaring at him, mentally daring him to see her intelligence and not drool like a fool over her body. “And Trent Dar, you belong to me. If you wish to keep that honor, then you will promise not to leave me again, not to simply disappear like you have a habit of doing. You will stay with me, respect me, and treat me as an equal.” Her knees almost turned to jelly when he rushed toward her, moving so quickly that his cape billowed around him. Grabbing her, he lifted her off of her feet and moved quickly through her ship. She didn’t have time to cry out. He’d thrown her so off-guard with his quick actions that all she could do was hold on when he tossed her over his shoulder and marched from one room to the other until he had her in her bedroom. Throwing her onto the bed, his black eyes burned holes through her skin while he stared down at her, quickly removing his own clothing. She didn’t move, but simply lay there, captivated, until he stood naked before her. The magnificence of his body stole her breath. His cock was erect, bulging with life as it throbbed before her. He was hard as a rock from head to toe, muscles bulging everywhere, the prime example of raw, uncontrollable energy. Yet she would dare to control him, take him on, let him see that she wouldn’t be owned.

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When he came down over her, his moves were surprisingly slow, almost gentle. Cum soaked her pussy, dampening her inner thighs. She could barely breathe over her need to have him inside her, filling her, completing the vast emptiness that she’d known since he’d been gone. “Dawn Corl.” His voice had grown husky. “Don’t you see that you already own my heart?” She stared at him, her mouth suddenly too dry to speak. His expression softened, emotions showing on his face that she’d never seen before. “Do you love me?” she managed to whisper. “Very much so,” he whispered back, as if the confession ripped something from him. “Tell me that you love me too.” “I love you, Trent Dar.” She’d never voiced it out loud, although she’d known the truth in her heart for a while now. Trent felt a dam break inside of him. Suddenly he wanted her to know every thought in his mind, every one of his dreams, every moment that he’d thought of her while they’d been apart. But admitting his love was the first step. And he had a lifetime to share with her, and every moment of it would be with her by his side. Slowly, with intense deliberation, he slipped inside her, feeling her muscles soak his cock, constrict around him, and he knew he’d truly found his home.

About the author:

All my life, I’ve wondered at how people fall into the routines of life. The paths we travel seemed to be well-trodden by society. We go to school, fall in love, find a line of work (and hope and pray it is one we like), have children and do our best to mold them into good people who will travel the same path. This is the path so commonly referred to as the “real world”. The characters in my books are destined to stray down a different path other than the one society suggests. Each story leads the reader into a world altered slightly from the one they know. For me, this is what good fiction is about, an opportunity to escape from the daily grind and wander down someone else’s path. Lorie O’Clare lives in Kansas with her three sons.

Lorie welcomes mail from readers. You can write to her c/o Ellora’s Cave Publishing at 1337 Commerce Drive, #13, Stow, Ohio 44224. Also available Lorie O’Clare:

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Fallen Gods: Jaded Prey Fallen Gods: Tainted Purity Full Moon Rising Lunewulf 1: Pack Law Lunewulf 2: In Her Blood Lunewulf 3: In Her Dreams Lunewulf 4: In Her Nature Lunewulf 5: In Her Soul Sex Slaves 1: Sex Traders Sex Slaves 2: Waiting For Yesterday The First Time Things That Go Bump in the Night 2004 anthology Discover for yourself why readers can’t get enough of the multiple award-winning publisher Ellora’s Cave. Whether you prefer e-books or paperbacks, be sure to visit EC on the web at www.ellorascave.com for an erotic reading experience that will leave you breathless.

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