Wow. The claws had come out. The bitch was insinuating that I would be killing him if I didn’t let her come into the cell and fuck him, try to calm his beast. I imagined him with her and nearly threw up all over my pretty slippers. Deek was good in bed, no, incredible, but it was our connection that made it that way. We’d connected, perhaps not as mates, but in a way I never had before, with any other man. And that was why my heart was broken. I loved him. I’d given him more than my body. I’d given him my heart. My soul.
And now I had to watch him die.
Or, I could let him see if any of these Atlan females, including Seranda, were his real mate. If I was not his true mate, remaining within the cell with him was only guaranteeing his execution.
Instead of helping him, comforting him, I was condemning him.
I looked down at the cuffs about my wrists. I’d grown accustomed to the heavy weight of them, for they were a constant reminder of my connection to Deek.
Now though, they were like shackles, keeping him connected to me when I wasn’t the one for him. When my presence would mean his death.
I looked to Seranda. I was just like her. Yes, heavier, less pretty, and definitely not Atlan. I’d been brought to the cell by Dax and Sarah in the hopes that I would be a match, that my body would soothe the beast. The Bride Program had assured me of the match, but it was a computer program and certainly not infallible.
I was the same as Seranda, only less. A failure. The cuffs didn’t belong to me.
Deek didn’t belong to me.
I fiddled with a cuff, trying to figure out how to open it. Frustrated, I tugged and pulled at it, tears streaming down my face. I hadn’t cried before now, but the cuffs were all that was left between us. And now I was getting rid of them. Of us.
Finally, I found the strange indentation that released the latch and the cuff gave way. The second was much easier to remove. I placed them on the floor at my feet and wiped the tears from my cheeks.
“Call the guard, Seranda. Have the grav-wall dropped. Try to save him.”
She nodded, her expression grave, not victorious. She truly was sorry for me. I believed that she respected and admired Deek, that she truly wanted him, wanted to save him. And that made the whole damn thing hurt even more.
I waited for the grav-wall to be deactivated, then walked down the corridor. I glanced over my shoulder and saw Seranda tug the straps of her dress off her shoulders. I caught a glimpse of her perfect breasts before she stepped into Deek’s cell. I could envision her, naked and perfect, waking Deek from his sleep.
I turned and fled, knowing I belonged there no longer.
Chapter Eleven
Deek
I was exhausted, so weary that I didn’t wish to wake up. But Tiffani was in my arms. No, she was on top of me, kissing my neck and slowly unbuttoning my shirt. I made a sound of satisfaction, but my beast prowled, nudged me. It had prodded me to wake. Why? Why would my beast not settle and preen beneath Tiffani’s attentions?
“You’re so big.”
I stilled at the voice while my beast practically howled with rage.
The scent of turins, the seasonal flower that appeared at the beginning of the warm months on Atlan, was cloying.
I opened my eyes and saw pale hair. Someone, not Tiffani, was on top of me, sucking at the skin on my neck.
Finally wide awake, the beast growled and my chest rumbled. Grabbing the female about the waist—her bare waist—I lifted her up and off me, placed her on her feet to stand beside the bed.
I leapt to my feet and walked across the cell to get as much distance from her as possible. Raking my hand through my hair, I saw then that she was completely naked. She didn’t hide her body, but rolled her shoulders back and lifted her chin so I could see all of her… assets.
“Commander, I’m here to serve you,” she said, and there was no mistaking the manner in which she intended to serve.
“Where the hell is Tiffani?”
The cell wasn’t big. It wasn’t as if she were hiding beneath the bed.
“Gone.” She seductively ran her hands down her sides and over her hips, then bringing them back up her flat belly to stroke over her breasts. I watched as her nipples tightened. Any Atlan male would be aroused by her, but I was disgusted by her flaunting. She wasn’t what I wanted. I wanted brown hair and green eyes. I wanted soft and round, a woman to sink into, to dominate, not wrestle with in bed.
“Gone?” I asked as I went back to the bed, ripped the sheet off it and tossed it at her. “Cover yourself, female.”
“My name is Seranda, and I am here to soothe your beast,” she repeated.
She fumbled with the sheet and held it up in front of herself. Most of her body was hidden, but it still offered tantalizing glimpses of the curve of her hip and a bare shoulder.