Lyko silently takes the machine from the box, hefting it as though it weighs nothing and placing it on the desk.
Piper studies the equipment for a second. “There it is,” she says, “Roth.” She points at one of the settings, and Lyko grunts his affirmation as she flicks a switch. Piper presses her face into the opening, and the machine whirs.
“That’s it?” she asks as it stops, then pulls back.
“Whoa,” Billie says. “That’s impressive.”
Piper gingerly touches her cheek. “How does it look?”
“Like the hologram,” Nydo says easily.
“Beautiful,” Lyko grunts.
In a matter of minutes, the three of us look like we’ve been paid a visit by the smokey-eye goth fairy. Dark, dark lips fight for attention with our black smudged smokey eyes.
“I don’t know how to braid,” I admit.
“I do,” Nydo says softly.
Piper’s blue eyes widen, and then Nydo’s behind me, expertly winding my hair into the elaborate braids the hologram woman wears. Lyko and Ayro watch in clear fascination for a moment.
“I think I see how to do it,” Lyko announces in his deep voice, and then turns to Piper. “I will arrange your hair for you.”
Ayro grins at Billie, who lets out a resigned sigh before plopping on the floor and motioning to him to go ahead. I pull the soft robe I threw on after the shower tighter around me, trying not to be affected by the feel of Nydo’s competent fingers in my hair, the warmth of his touch heating me from the inside out.
“This is some slumber party,” I finally say, attempting to break the weird silence.
Billie snorts. “Yeah, and we get to cap it off by trying to survive another Roth attack. We’re starting to make a habit of it.”
“As long as we don’t get captured and have hormones forced into us,” I try to joke, but it falls flat.
Piper clears her throat. “That’s not going to happen, right?” she asks, worry clear in her voice.
“No,” Nydo says shortly, and the heat blazing across my neck tells me he’s furious at the mere thought… which is strangely soothing.
“We will get the ships and aid we require, then move on to the other Roth settlements.” Lyro looks to Nydo, as his brother’s often do.
“We will split up,” Nydo announces. “It will be faster if we tackle each target separately.”
His words are met with utter silence, his brothers staring at him like he’s lost his damn mind.
“What?” Billie asks. “Why?”
“We need to present multiple targets. We will commandeer ships from this settlement, and it will be faster if we work to bring the other settlement sects into our fold separately. Lyko and Ayro, you will each take your princess and convince the sect leaders at the other, more populated settlements to follow us into battle against the Overlord. Leigh and I will head on to Roth to convince our home world to rise up.”
Lyko and Ayro nod.
Piper’s blue eyes fill with tears. “I don’t want to be separated,” she whispers.
“You’re going to look like a raccoon if you cry,” Billie tells her. “It’s already raccoon-y enough, okay? No trash panda!”
At that, Piper sniffles and lets out a reluctant laugh. “You’re right.” She raises her chin, and Lyko looks at her with starry eyes like… like she really is a princess.
When his eyes light orange, though, Nydo’s fingers tighten in my hair. “Ouch,” I yelp. “That’s attached to my head, my king,” I spit.
He gives a deep laugh, and Billie and Piper stare at me.
“You feeling alright?” Billie narrows her eyes at me. “Why are you calling him that?”
Ah, fuck.
“I thought I’d get into the role. You know, Roth queen, blah, blah, blah,” I sputter.
Nydo laughs again, then places his hands on my shoulders. “Done.”
So are the other males, in a matter of minutes, and I stare at the other women as Nydo picks through the crate of clothes from the tailor.
“These,” he says, and several layers of diaphanous black fabric puddle on the bed.
I sigh heavily. I want to tell him he’s a presumptuous asshole, but frankly, I didn’t want to deal with picking out what to wear anyway.
There’s too much riding on this little meet-and-greet to get anything wrong.
“Fine,” Billie says, then gestures at the males. “Now shoo, so we can get dressed.”
Ayro fixes her with a lascivious look, and she rolls her eyes when he licks his lips.
“Give us privacy,” I grit out.
Lyko is the first to obey, with Nydo bringing up the rear. “Ten minutes until you need to strap in for atmospheric reentry,” he says in a low voice.
His gaze skates across my face, and that familiar warmth dances across my skin. “You are stunning,” he finally says, and with that, he’s gone, leaving me cold in his absence.
“He’s into you,” Billie says, holding up a dress and handing it to Piper. “He wants to take you to pound town.”
“Of course he does,” I say, trying to play it off. My body is one hundred percent not trying to play it off. And I’m not completely sure if I can blame it on the stupid breeding hormones anymore.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
NYDO
I can’t tear my gaze away from her. What was our morning in space has turned to night on this planet, and she is a flaming star in the darkness.
Leigh. My queen.
She’s stunning in the black fabric, her thick red hair shining in the settlement firelight. The flames play off the gemstone-studded fabric underneath the high-slit skirt. There’s a thick, ropey scar that slides down her spine, but it only serves to heighten the warlike image she presents. Her features are striking and perfect without the traditional female Roth warpaint, but with it?
She is fantastic.
A dream come true.
I cannot wait to have her taste on my lips again, to feel her melt underneath me as she begs me for release.
Leigh’s nervous, though, and her fingers keep flitting to the plas rifle parts she’s strapped in covert places all over her body. The barrel on one thigh, a piece worn around her neck, another strapped to her ankle, and the plas energy barrel tucked away under her breasts.
My lip curls in a half-snarl as I remember the smooth, creamy skin there, the way her flesh felt between my teeth.
Nothing, though, was sweeter than her submission.
My king, she said. Of her own volition.
Roghat, the leader of this outpost and vocal critic of the Overlord, finally appears at the gates to the Roth settlement, and his dark eyes widen visibly as he takes in the three females with us.
His gaze falls on Leigh, and my entire body stiffens as his nostrils flare. Suddenly, I wish I hadn’t insisted on traditional Roth garb. I should have put a cloak around her, hidden her from view.
She is mine.
The air around me crackles, and Roghat tilts his head, as though gauging my worth, judging me, before finally inclining his head… just barely. His shoulder taps are perfunctory, not the demonstration of obeisance they should be.
I bare my teeth.
I should strike him down for that insolence alone.
Leigh’s cool fingers circle my wrist, and when I glance at her, her green eyes are troubled, her pretty mouth in a frown. “Cool your jets,” she hisses.