Zandian Masters

Chapter 2-3

He popped the leash toward him.

She flew forward onto her knees, pain flashing up her neck and into the base of her skull. Lights danced before her eyes.

~.~

Veck and excrement. He bent and picked up the weak human female from where she’d fallen to her knees. Dropping her back on her feet, he rubbed her nape to ease her pain.

VeckHe hadn’t meant to yank her so hard, had forgotten how little she weighed. Anger at himself quickly morphed into general irritation with the whole vecking situation. What was he doing with a vecking slave? He hadn’t the slightest idea how to train her or care for her well-being. He hadn’t even wanted offspring. He didn’t want any of this mess.

veckingveckingHe unclipped the leash and threw it on the floor. “I don’t need this damn leash. You will follow a step behind me or you’ll be beaten. Is that clear?” He shouldn’t yell at her. It wasn’t her fault he’d hurt her.

Her eyes swam with tears, and guilt stabbed at his consciousness.

“Why are you crying?”

“I’m not.”

For the love of his species, were they really playing this game again?

He ran his fingers around her collar, checking for wounds. “I hurt you?” Rug burns reddened her knees, but nothing terrible.

She shook her head. “I’m hungry, that’s all.” Her voice choked with tears.

The sound of it grated on him—made his chest tighten. She affected him in far too many ways. He wasn’t an emotional creature by nature. Not like a human. But, in the course of an hour, she’d inspired anger, frustration, and guilt. And yes, l**t. Because the sight of her n***d body had him itching to veck her senseless.

veck“And you don’t wish to cry, but still you do.” He growled with impatience and snapped her wrist cuffs together in front of her. “Follow.” He marched out of the room. He didn’t look back but her light footsteps padded right behind him.

His guards stole surreptitious glances as they passed. For some reason, it made his fists clench. They were lucky none of them openly gawked or he’d have their heads. He glanced over his shoulder and caught Gunt, the guard who stood at his chamber door, staring at Lamira’s n***d buttocks, which, of course, still glowed, painted red with his handprints. Gunt caught his glower and immediately shifted his gaze to the wall.

He grasped Lamira’s elbow and pulled her up to his side.

“You said to walk behind you, my lord,” she protested.

“Do not ever argue with me, slave. Your duty is to follow my lead at all times. I may change my mind or directions at a moment’s notice. You will adjust.”

When she didn’t answer, he halted and spun her around to face him, raising his eyebrows.

“Yes, my lord.” She sounded sullen, but her eyes remained lowered. It was a small step forward. He waited a moment longer for her to lift her eyes so he could give her a fierce glower of warning.

She blanched.

Good. She would learn. Hopefully sooner than later. He walked her to the kitchen.

Daneth, being the ever-capable advisor, had called ahead, and his servants there had already prepared several possibilities to feed her.

“Will this do, my lord?” Barr, the chef, asked, placing several plates piled with food on the counter. “Master Daneth was not certain what she would eat, but he suggested a few possibilities.” The chef’s eyes flicked to Lamira’s peach-tipped breasts and Zander’s horns twitched.

He wanted to throw the plates of food at the male. “She’ll eat what we feed her,” he growled, but he pushed her in front of the plates and allowed her to choose for herself.

He didn’t know what to expect, but she picked the same one he would have picked, had it been his day to eat—a meal of delicate birdflesh with fruit compote over a serving of grain.

She gazed up at him with a question in her eyes. Or was it a supplication? His horns leaned in her direction and his c**k stiffened. He enjoyed that look on her. He imagined her on her knees, pleading for his mercy, or for him to grant her a boon. He wasn’t sure what it was she wanted now, though.

She dropped her eyes back to her plate and grasped the curved utensil.

He suddenly understood. She wanted her wrists freed to eat.

“Release cuffs.”

Oh Zandian sun, she was beautiful. Her smile of gratitude sent a wave of something unfamiliar through the center of his chest. He didn’t like it. She was trouble. A pain in his backside. She lied. She deceived. She couldn’t control her wild human emotions. She would distract him from his work to no end. The last thing he needed was to feel pity or...anything else for this female.

He did not often visit the kitchen, but there were far more servants crowding into the space than belonged. All of them stole curious glances at Lamira and her n***d body.

She ate quickly, as if afraid someone might take the food away from her. She had been hungry.

had No, he wouldn’t feel guilty about that, either.

She finished one quarter of the food on the plate and set the utensil down, pushing the plate away. She flashed a brilliant smile at Barr, the only being who remained in the kitchen now. “Thank you. This is the most delicious meal I’ve ever had.”

He wanted to throat-punch the chef. Which wasn’t fair. His entire staff—every being in the pod—was made up of Zandians. Many of them were highly skilled professionals, but they’d chosen to take serving positions to be near him, or perhaps to be near the Zandian crystals in his possession. His species needed them to survive, so, when they’d evacuated Zandia, they’d taken a load of crystal as well.

“Please, my lady…er—” Barr’s eyes darted to Zander.

No, definitely not my lady. She was far from his mate. But he suddenly didn’t want his staff thinking of her as beneath them, either.

my lady“Lamira,” he corrected.

Barr bowed. “Lamira, please eat as much as you like…” he trailed off again, once more realizing he’d overstepped his bounds.

Zander gave him a cold stare. “She will require sustenance two to three times a day. She obviously eats very little at a time, however.”

Barr bobbed his head. “We will provide her with whatever she wishes.”

What emotions twisted around in his chest now? Some odd mixture of jealousy combined with satisfaction. He wanted Barr to care appropriately for his slave, but he didn’t like the way she smiled at him.

Stars. Having this vecking female created a starstorm of issues in his pod. She was not an honored guest here. She was a slave. Except only for him. “Treat her like a fellow staff member. No higher, no lower. She serves me like you do,” he snapped. He swept his gaze around the room, making sure they’d all heard it.

veckingEveryone nodded their assent.

And stared at her breasts.

Excrement. She would not be allowed out of his chamber unclothed again.

Excrement.~.~

She almost had to jog to keep up with Zander’s long strides back to his chamber. He refused to look at her, a muscle flexing in his temple. She couldn’t figure out why he’d be angry. She didn’t mind hurrying, though. Parading through the halls n***d with her freshly s*****d a*s hanging out for all to see was not her idea of fun. It was utterly humiliating. It also had her s*x wet again. Now that most of the pain had faded, the memory of the s******g strangely excited her. She imagined him doing it again, then forcing her to breed.

But no. She didn’t want that. She wasn’t supposed to want the attention of any male. Which might prove difficult here. From what she’d gathered, there were only males in Zander’s pod. And, yeah, the Zandian males were...very masculine. Something about being around so many huge, ripped bodies, giant c***s stuffed in tight pants, and horns pointed right at her while the beings stared at her body had her n*****s hard and her p***y damp. It had her skin flushing and tingling. It had her wondering how big and long the Zandian prince’s c**k might be.

The guard who stood outside Zander’s door grabbed her a*s when she passed him on her way into the room. No, he didn’t grab it. It was more of a grope. A fleeting touch—his fingers brushing her inflamed flesh, questing along her curves.

She turned and glared at him but, he stood staring straight ahead, as if nothing had happened. Should she tell Zander? But, no, he didn’t want her speaking unless spoken to.

“Door shut.” The door slid closed at Zander’s command. “In this chamber, you will always be n***d. When you leave this room, you will cover yourself.”

She lifted her arms and made a show of searching around her body. “With what?” It was the wrong thing to do—she certainly ought to know better.

But her claircognizance told her Zander wasn’t cruel. He wasn’t dangerous—not like the Ocretion foremen with their shocking devices. Maybe she sensed that underneath the arrogance and superiority, he was an honorable being. Maybe part of her thought it was fun to goad the prince who thought so little of her species. Or maybe she was just a stupid, crazy female who couldn’t suppress her macabre curiosity in receiving punishment at the prince’s hand. Because the pain and humiliation of the first s******g he’d given her had left her changed.

His expression hardened. He sat down on the hovering disk that served as his chair, snapped his fingers, and pointed at his feet.

She didn’t miss his meaning and didn’t have the nerve to pretend she didn’t understand. She lowered herself to her knees near his feet.

“Look at me.”

She craned her neck to meet his gaze.

“Lamira, you have tried my patience too many times already today. If I am to believe Daneth, you are not unintelligent. If you speak to me in a disrespectful tone again, I will make your earlier punishment seem like a caress. Do you understand?”

She swallowed. “I’m sorry, my lord.”

He stared at her for a beat. She gazed into his chocolate brown eyes and realized the outer ring and the pattern within the iris was pure violet. Incredible.

“Humans lie.”

“I’m not lying.” Was she pushing him too far again? Why couldn’t she stop herself?

He slapped her face.

It stung and brought tears to her eyes, even though she knew he might have struck her far harder.

“Why do you continue to fight me?”

“I don’t know,” she whispered, staring at the finely woven rug as hot tears slid down her burning face.

She wondered about her mother—if she even knew what had happened to her only daughter. If she’d ever see her again. How all this would turn out? Did she truly belong to Zander now? His s*x slave? His breeder?

Her father had revolted and given his life over his first daughter becoming a s*x slave. It would kill him to know his younger daughter also ended up with that fate, to be a breeder.

She hated the quivering place inside her that found the idea half-arousing. She should not be thinking of how it would feel to be strapped down and taken against her will by a giant Zandian male.