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In his office, perched on the white couch, I refused. “I don’t want to.”
“I’m here when you change your mind.”
I hated that he could be so nice when he was also so terrible. But I also didn’t resist when he sought to give me comfort in any way.
Against the wall, on his desk, atop the exact place on the floor he hurt me the first time.
Even there. There, I climaxed until I thought I might die.
Because I was a broken person starved for anything to make me feel better.
Each morning, I arrived at the academy with my stomach flat but had yet to leave once without my belly swollen and huge.
Between duties, I sought him for comfort. I sought him for company. I sought him out for pleasure when I was in the mood to play instead of brood.
I indulged in my addiction.
In his home, watching him cook for me gave me delight. His tricks with the knives, his terrible jokes, seeing the way he chugged down nutrient fluid, knowing he was preparing to fill me to bursting… all of it excited me.
After work hours, we enjoyed sweet moments of comfortable silence. Long walks past the hybrid reservoir, explorations of the interesting layout of our segment of the fascinating city. Maze-like streets designed to confuse the vorec should they break through the walls. Old remnants of the original settlement unpopular with humans yet embraced by my kind.
Fair General Aegir, stoic General Boreal, and deviously smirking General Murdoch hovered near wherever I went, watching me with that unblinking stare males preferred.
Men who I saw trailing us through the city, no matter where Cyderial had taken me. Who stalked me any moment I stepped a toe outside Cyderial’s home or the academy.
When I noted it in irritation to my mate, he brushed off my concern, happy to have three determined males working to ensure I was safe,so long as they kept their distance.
After all, my fertilized eggs might be their only hope for future partnership.
Their obsession with my safety was only rivaled by that of the male who could not keep his hands off me.
Who knew exactly how to distract me from my fears and concerns, and who showed me there could even be moments when I was at silent peace.
As if Cyderial could sense the second I was settled, he would often take those opportunities to taste me, regardless of onlookers. And I knew what he was doing, associating the action with my contentment. Training me.
Which was why, sometimes, I bit him.
Which only excited him all the more.
16
It was our second visit to the courtyard, a beautiful night where the fog rushed the distant filters withparticular violence. Rolling up, churning, and glimmering in the setting sun, it danced and dazzled. Though it was too far away to taste, I was mesmerized nonetheless, sipping a drink Cyderial had chosen for me and enjoying a moment of quiet.
The courtyard's other guests made their peace with our presence. The males less on guard, the women less insistent of my attention.
I would not doubt it if Cyderial contacted each individual and threatened them with consequences should they think to disrupt me a second time. Even Miranda only waved and smiled in insidious glee but did not so much as budge from her chair to fetch me.
The respite was appreciated.
For much weighed on my mind.
Earlier, Cyderial passed me a note written in Maeve’s hand.
I agree.
Two words that sealed my fate.
Maeve agreed to accept Thayer would take her, that she would be mated to a general, and that she would have to thrive despite circumstances, should she dislike him. Maeve would be the first unmated female to comprehend what some portion of her future would be in centuries.
