V'hor's Nestmate Page 3

  The slits of Peshla’s eyes flickered as she bared her fangs. “You must think your Matire a fool.”

  “Never.” He most definitely did not think that. But he also knew she would never risk someone seeing him without clothing. His physical flaw at birth was something she blamed on herself. A sign of her weakness she’d once explained in a rare moment of camaraderie when he was ten. In light of D’Lan’s revelation, V’hor now wondered if she’d been speaking of her past indiscretion.

  “You want to leave Serpine and become a soldier with allegiance to another military force. You, one of the best fighters your instructors have ever trained.”

  Surprise swelled his chest. V’hor had not heard this. The instructors were vicious in his lessons. More times than not he went home bloody and battered but had known better than to complain. Never had anyone complimented his performances directly to him.

  Peshla chuckled and leaned back on the chaise. As her laughter waned, her gaze sharpened. “No.”

  “Matire,” he protested instinctively. There was no way he could blindly follow the path set for him after last night. “The Jutak warriors are the best. If I can meet their standards, I would bring respect to our people.”

  Other worlds were not fond of Serpines. Their reputation for fighting on the wrong side of causes was well known. Betrayers, blackmailers and assassins were only a few of their preferred roles. He hoped by playing to his Matire’s pride, she’d weaken enough to let him go.

  “One condition. If you do this, choose other than blood...do not come back.” Her upper lip curled, “You will no longer be my son.”

  In other words, to pursue this new desire he wanted with a surprising determination it would carry a steep price. Though he knew better than to beg and reveal his desperation, V’hor bowed low, part respect and part grief in an effort to appeal to any parental love she retained for him. “Matire, please. Do not be overly harsh, please.”

  At this point in his life he knew he should be over his need for his Matire’s approval. Or the need for acceptance.

  He wasn’t.

  When he stood straight once more, his Matire’s eyes glinted with triumph, as if she knew she’d won. “Do you still wish to be this Jutak warrior? Is the cost worth it?”

  Her smirk spoke of victory, her tone one of arrogant pride. V’hor kept his face blank and withheld a sigh of frustration. Of course she’d take this action. Banishing him would hurt in a way that would linger.

  Opening his eyes, V’hor swallowed back the agony attempting to overtake him. Despite the verbal and emotional abuse he suffered at her hands, she was still his Matire. If he pursued this dream, he’d no longer be able to see her. His sisters. He caught sight of Sollee from the corner of his eyes.

  Right now his sweet sister gnawed her bottom lip, on the verge of defending him no doubt. He couldn’t allow that to happen. Sollee was not strong enough to endure discipline from their Matire.

  V’hor studied Peshla’s calculated expression. Did she want him to stay? What if the threat was the only way to save face in her efforts to keep him here? He had a split second to make his decision before she flatly refused. Taking a risk without guarantee of success, V’hor gave his answer. “Yes. I understand and agree.”

  She flicked her fingers at him. “Be gone.”

  Ignoring the varying range of emotions on his sisters’ faces and Sollee’s broken cry, V’hor turned on his heels and escaped before Peshla could change her mind. There would come a time when she wouldn’t always have the upper hand. One day, he’d be free of her control.

  ***

  Peshla watched her only son walk away with stiff legged pride. She’d angered him but there was nothing left to do about it. The gap between them widened every year. She no longer knew the young man he was becoming.

  A deliberate choice on her part. His stance today had her wondering if she’d come to regret the many other choices she’d made in raising him.

  Only time would tell and Peshla wasn’t sure she’d like the answer.

  ***

  7 years later

  Peshla Dahreel would not be deterred when she wanted something. She’d ignored V’hor during his time at the Jutak Academy. Ignored him as he began to make a name for himself with the Enotian military. Until recently. When she’d first reached out to him, V’hor had been hopeful it would end the breech between him and his family.

  Instead, she’d used obligation and loyalty to coerce him into doing secret missions for Serpine. Dangerous missions. And he’d done what she asked time and again to show he was still Serpine in his heart.

  But what she asked now, what she demanded was more than V’hor wanted to give.

  “Do you understand, V’hor?” Her face tightened at his lack of response to her latest dictate. “Niya is from an exceptional line and would be a perfect match for you.”

  No Serpine woman would ever be a perfect match for him. He’d secretly shared his physical anomaly among their kind with his oldest sister, Sollee, and she agreed he’d be publicly accepted for the connection to the Dahreel name. Then privately shunned by his nestmate if he agreed to any union his Matire proposed.

  “My answer is no. Let the Uladi family know I am thankful they consider me worthy but I must refuse.”

  A nestmate symbolized the one individual a male Serpine cherished above all others. It was a coveted relationship to their race and one of the few tenets he refused to break. Despite his belief such a person wasn’t in his future, he wouldn’t allow his Matire to steal the small chance away with her machinations.

  “What. Did. You. Say?”

  In the past, her cutting tone would have driven V’hor to backtrack or work harder to gain her favor. No more. Peshla had drained him of all the love he’d once had for her, leaving him unmoved by the anger suffusing her tan features.

  Calmly he repeated his denial. “No, Matire.”

  Her hiss across the line matched the brief spurt of rage she masked seconds later. To look at the Supreme Matire was to see a woman of power, a woman who’d flourished while crushing any and every opponent foolish enough to challenge her.

  As he’d just done.

  “You will end this childish rebellion and return home. I’ve let this go on far longer than I should have.”

  Rebellion. She deemed the work he did with the Jutak warriors as a rebellion. He didn’t need this after returning from a prolonged assignment investigating the Marenian slave ring. V’hor wished he’d followed his initial instinct to ignore the urgent summons Torkel had passed along to him.

  Too late for regrets. V’hor kept his gaze steady on her small image on the vid screen knowing his silence would carry more weight. His days of seeking her approval with his actions were many years behind him.

  The silence between them lengthened. Peshla’s eyes narrowed, her stare voicing the demand for him to give in.

  He did not.

  Finally she leaned back in the large high back chair and steepled her fingers in front of her, the tips pressed to her dainty chin. Age had been kind and her beauty was as graceful and contained as ever. “You have changed.”

  He inclined his head.

  Peshla sniffed and shook back a section of perfectly coiled hair over her shoulder. “Not for the better.”

  It was easy for V’hor to control his flinch. Nothing she said could hurt him any more. He was a respected soldier and understood his worth. Thanks to the Jutaks. Thanks to Torkel and his current Team Leader Rydak.

  “I regret the day I let you join their military forces. Enotia seeks to steal my son.”

  To that he could reply. “My Unit Leader gave leave for me to assist in any way you have need, Matire. I have honored that.”

  “Honor!” She snorted and flicked her hand at the screen. “Serpine needs you. I need you.”

  Against his will, the desire to please rose. V’hor crossed his arms behind his back and linked his hands. How could he forget her ability to tease him with his greatest want?
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  “You have my skills to call on at any time. I gave that willingly, but you do not get to choose my nestmate.”

  Hoping to divert her anger, he asked. “What of father?”

  Many of the staff in their home had considered C’Ri the voice of reason. If anyone could change his Matire’s mind, it was her devout nestmate.

  Unfortunately, Peshla exploded, features mottled as she slammed a fist to her chest with each pronouncement. “I make the decisions for our family! I am your Matire! I am the Supreme Matire and answer to no male!”

  Firing back, V’hor made his feelings clear. “You sent me away. You claimed I was no longer your son. That means I have no Matire.”

  Denying his lineage was a huge insult and V’hor realized he’d overstepped immediately. He’d been banished from Serpine, but Peshla had spoken of it to no one thus enabling her to keep him on a string dancing attendance to her whims.

  If evil had a feel, it slivered down V’hor’s spine now as his Matire slammed a palm down and pressed her face close to the vid-screen. Her voice was low and ugly as she threatened. “Perhaps, I should ask the Uladis if they have a male who would accept your sister.”

  V’hor bit off a snarl. There was only one of his sisters, yet to bond with a nestmate. “This is not about Sollee.”

  “It is about her, if you make it about her.”

  He’d stolen for Peshla. Lied. Killed a traitor plotting to overthrow her rule. Now she would threaten the only being who had shown him love growing up? The one who continued to secretly message him support from the time he’d left home.

  V’hor would never let anything happen to his oldest sibling. It didn’t matter that any male would worship Sollee as was their instinct with a nestmate. It didn’t matter because his sister deserved to choose on her own as Falla and Betta had.

  “It is past time for her to become a Matire in her own right, V’hor,” Peshla continued. “You may not follow our traditions any longer, but you are aware of them. A young female should not withhold blessing a male with her order and rule.”

  This wasn’t about tradition. It was about getting her way. Forcing him to her will.

  Sweat gathered at the base of his neck as his throat locked. It had been a long time since V’hor felt a true loss of control as he did in this moment. He swallowed and forced out the question he already knew the answer to. “What do you really want, Matire?”

  The triumph on her face declared her pleasure. She smoothed her hands down the front of the deep golden robe she wore, red cloth visible beneath the under tunic. “You are my only son. I want you here where you belong and nesting with a favorable Matire of my choosing to continue our line.”

  Two of his sisters did well enough with continuing their line having three children a piece already.

  “And my...flaw?” They didn’t speak of it, but surely she couldn’t expect him to hide from his nestmate.

  “Will not be a problem. You will take her to nest in the dark. Continue to be circumspect about your physical form at all other times.” Her fangs flashed. “Surely you’ve managed to do so all this time when satisfying your urges.”

  If he’d found any of this amusing, V’hor would have laughed in her face. She actually wanted him to lie in a matter involving one of their most sacred beliefs. Love could not flourish in a relationship formed on untruths. But then why would she doubt it? His very life was proof of her biggest lie of all.

  “Well?” she snapped, leaning back in her chair. “Are you in agreement?”

  Sacrifice his only chance of being loved or sacrifice his sister’s happiness. There was no choice. He dropped his arms and bowed, but didn’t lower his head. He wanted her to see the burning hatred in his gaze as he spoke. Hatred she created by forcing his hand in this. “It will be as you wish, Matire. I will be most honored to nest with Niya Uladi.”

  “I knew you’d understand.” Peshla clasped her hands together and smiled. She looked...loving. How could she be pleased with delivering such a vicious blow and stealing what should have been his birth right?

  “May I ask for more details on my future nestmate?” Inside his soul cried out in agony at the loss of further dreams he hadn’t dared let himself hope for.

  “Of course you can. I expect you will appreciate that I chose wisely. I do wish for you to be happy despite what you think. Niya is twelve and ripe for giving you many children.”

  “Thank you for your care, Matire.” V’hor barely managed to close out the transmission and race to the cleansing room where his stomach heaved and disposed of its contents.

  Afterwards, he washed his face with cold water and gathered himself. Control. He needed to regain control and bury the wildly surging emotions tempting him to break and release all the rage gathered from the years of being under Peshla’s power. He’d fooled himself. Being a Jutak hadn’t freed him, it had only created a false distance. Emotionally, he was still tied to his Matire, the unwanted bonds of nature strong between them.

  With his head bowed, he braced his balled hands on the counter and waited for the jagged beat of his heart to settle.

  Control. He dragged in a deep breath, let it out slowly. One by one he unclenched his fingers. The pale color at the knuckles flooded with his usual gold tones as the blood flow returned.

  Being a soldier was far easier than being son to a female who’d pledge him to a child half his age.

  Chapter 1

  Present day

  “I’m doing it and you should too.”

  Eva resisted rolling her eyes and accepted the brochures her friend and colleague handed her. Singles Program. The government’s answer to the shortage of men on Earth after a virus had almost decimated the male population.

  “You’re going to marry an alien stranger?” Her tone was skeptical, but Angie had been going on and on for weeks about the new program.

  “Come on, Eva. Don’t discount it right away.” She blinked big eyes, heavily made up and thickly lashed.

  “I don’t know, Angie. It’s a big step.” A pretty damn big one at that.

  “Eva Blake, you listen to me,” Angie started, narrowing her gaze with feigned disapproval. “What do you have to lose?”

  Eva smirked as she offered the retort. “Oh, I don’t know, everything maybe?”

  Chuckling, Angie slid over in her seat, drawing closer to Eva so no one else in the wireless café could hear their conversation. They’d chosen the place for lunch and easy walking distance from their office. “I’ve been saving for years since the program started. I want a family. Kids, Eva. You said you wanted the same. What else are you going to do with the money your aunt left you?”

  Blowing out a breath, Eva flipped through the first of the colorful paper flyers she’d been handed. Angie did have a point and she hated it. Her father might not be in her life because her mother had paid him to get pregnant but his sister, her sweet aunt, had the best revenge by leaving all of her money to Eva instead of him. She now had exactly twenty thousand dollars in her account.

  The same cost as the program to send Earth women into space to find a match for life. A one way ticket with no chance of returning home.

  “Okay, say I agree to this.” Eva really did want to settle down and have a family. That was never going to happen on Earth with men having the advantage of being in demand. They were loving the benefits of being in the minority and charging women for the chance to get pregnant by them. “Are we really talking about leaving Earth and marrying aliens?”

  Nodding her dark head, Angie agreed firmly. “Yes.”

  Excitement began to stir in her belly. Eva scanned the requirements. She had the money. She was within the under thirty years of age range and it would be a breeze to pass the health assessment. The advertisements for the program she’d seen in the past flashed through her mind. “Alright. Let’s do this.”

  Angie squealed, drawing gazes in their direction as she reached over and threw her arms about Eva’s shoulders. “I knew you’d agree. It make
s sense. Fuck Earth. Fuck the men. We are going to get us alien husbands and live the hell out of happy ever after.”

  Eva chuckled. It was hard to resist Angie’s brand of brash and humor. They’d met at their very boring processing center job a year ago and formed a friendship. Angie talked loud, laughed loud and played loud. Eva on the other hand was a little more reserved. She studied her friend who’d settled back in her seat and was now winking at a man across the café from them.

  The one thing they both had in common was their love of adventure and life. She tapped a finger on the papers for the SP as it was called. It wasn’t like sleeping around and having an occasional boyfriend had worked in her favor. None of them stuck when the playing field was so wide open.

  “Where do I sign up?” Eva asked, her mind brimming with possibilities.

  Angie rubbed her hands together gleefully, her smile broad and wicked. “We can register over our electronic data pads. I already have my health papers completed and narrowed my choices to two planets with close to human like appearances.”

  Eva hadn’t even thought about that. She snatched the paper up again and scanned to the segment on races and worlds. There were complete bios on the male aliens who’d volunteered to be a part of the program. Details all the way down to the world structure and societal standards.

  This was going to require a bit of research. If this was to be a life changing moment, she was not going to rush through it. It would be a careful, meticulous process.

  “We’ll meet up in two days and go for it.”

  Angie held up her hand for a high five and Eva smacked her palm against it. They shared a grin and quickly finished their lunch so they could return to work.

  A new beginning was on the horizon for her and Eva planned to make the most of it.

  ***

  Eva cursed the day she’d decided to settle down. If it wasn’t for the lure and temptation of the Singles Program, she might not have succumbed. But she did and here she was. Two weeks give or take her ability to track time accurately and she was a slave. No, not just a slave—a sex slave.