Authors: Robin L. Rotham
She shook her head. “My mother would disown me.”
While Monica slid a cool cloth under her neck, Tysan looked at Cecine. “We need to administer a sedative and initiate the retrogression soon, Minister.”
“No sedatives,” Shelley barked. “And you talk to
me
. I’m the patient, not him.”
He tipped his head. “My apologies, Shelley. But a sedative is strongly advised—the infusion must be delivered directly to the bone and it’s quite painful. What follows is even more so.”
Her insides contracted with anxiety. She’d always had a low pain threshold and she didn’t really want to experience this. But she had to be strong, for her own protection. “No. God knows what else Cecine might decide I require. Like another hole,” she added with a scowl. “Don’t you fucking touch me down there, Tysan. Everything stays right where it is.”
“Oh, for Peserin’s sake,” Cecine said with a scowl of his own. “Dr. Tysan, I hereby authorize Shelley to make all decisions regarding her own medical care.”
“As if I’d trust you again,” she snorted. “You might change your mind the minute I go to sleep.”
“Then authorize someone you
do
trust to make decisions for you in the event you’re unable to make them for yourself,” Tysan said. “I’ll be legally bound to honor their decisions.”
Her heart pounding, she looked around. Cecine was once again impassive, as was the commander. Hastion was sad and worried, but trying to encourage her with his expression. His gaze flickered to Monica, who looked resolute as ever—no doubt she’d tear off heads to make sure nothing happened that Shelley didn’t want to happen.
But Shelley didn’t want to pit Monica against her own father, or against the commander, who might come down on Cecine’s side if there was a conflict.
“Hastion,” she said, looking into his shocked eyes. “I trust Hastion.”
His throat and jaw worked and he squeezed her hand for a moment before saying, “It’s an honor I don’t deserve, but you won’t have cause to regret it, Shelley. I won’t leave your side for a moment.”
“I know.” She didn’t doubt for a second that he’d die for her.
“May I speak to Shelley alone, please?” he asked Tysan.
“Of course.” He left immediately and Monica and the commander followed him, but Cecine didn’t budge. He just stood there watching Hastion with an expression that dared him to object.
Hastion stared back coolly, and their silent showdown made Shelley tense. Were they arguing over their cerecoms?
Finally Cecine turned and walked out without a word, and she wilted with relief. To her amazement, Hastion did the same, exhaling a shaky breath.
“You’ve got a hell of a poker face, Lieutenant,” she said. “Was he saying something?”
He shook his head. “No.”
“What would you have done if he refused to go?”
“I have no idea.” He hesitated. “Shelley, I know you don’t remember this, but the night the minister and I both took you…”
When he didn’t continue, she prodded, “What is it?”
“I’m trying not to make this sound as self-serving as it is.” He brought their linked hands to rest on his thigh. “When you and I mated face to face, I told you I had to be careful not to injure you with my spur and you claimed you wished you had a nook.”
Now why didn’t that surprise her? “Thank you for telling me. I guess I’m so focused on not giving Cecine an inch, I’m punishing you too. I do want a nook.”
“Don’t do it only for me, Shelley.”
“I’m not. I want to be able to make love with you face to face.”
He leaned over and kissed her softly. “I want that too.”
She waved at Tysan, who stood alone at the observation window.
“Okay, I changed my mind,” she told him when he led the procession back in. “A nook might come in handy.”
He looked surprised. “Very well. That’s the final stage of the process and it will definitely require anesthesia.”
“You can sedate me for the infusion, and use anesthesia for the nook, but I don’t want to be knocked out for days unless I absolutely have to.” When he opened his mouth, she added, “Trust me, if the pain gets too bad, I’ll be begging you to put me out.”
“As you wish.” He hesitated and then said, “Would you like to be implanted with a cerecom?”
“Why in God’s name would I want that?”
He exchanged a look with Cecine, who sighed and said, “Every Garathani must be implanted with a cerecom for communication and security purposes. The twins were cerecom-seeded shortly after birth.”
“What!” Heedless of her hospital gown, Shelley bounded off the bed and just about collapsed. “You fucked with my children’s
brains
?”
Hastion and Tysan grabbed her and held her up.
“Shelley, cerecom seeding is a routine procedure,” Tysan said as they helped her back onto the bunk. “All newborns are cerecom-seeded so that they can be monitored at all times. Wouldn’t you like to be able to speak with them right now, in the privacy of your own mind, and hear them in return?”
She gaped at him. “I could do that?”
“Of course. Right now they communicate more effectively via cerecom than they do verbally.”
“Really? What do they say?”
“Kallie is thinking about you, wondering where you are,” Cecine said. “Wyatt is contemplating pulling a planter off its base.”
Shelley teared up. “Oh my God, you can really hear them?”
“Of course. I wouldn’t let them out of my sight if I couldn’t.”
Hastion smiled. “I can hear them too. Wyatt thinks that because none of us are there and Janelle is watching him, he can do whatever he pleases.”
She smiled through her tears. “I miss them already.”
“It’s quick and painless, accomplished with a simple injection at the base of your skull,” Tysan tossed in.
“It’s safe?”
He smiled wryly. “Safer than the gene therapy. Though I must warn you, it will be several weeks before the implant fully integrates into your nervous system, so you shouldn’t expect to hear the twins immediately.”
She took a shuddering breath and nodded. “Okay.”
He went to the med cabinet and spent several minutes preparing infusers. Then he put his palm on a reader to open a metallic door. Tendrils of vapor wafted out of the icy chamber when he reached in and pulled out a vial. He attached the vial to another infuser and approached her.
“All right, Shelley. Are you ready to proceed?”
She gulped. “Just like that? No prep?”
“None is necessary. Afterward, you should shower. It might be your last opportunity for a few days.”
“Can Hastion still hold my hand?”
“He can hold
you
, if you’d like.”
Hastion immediately pulled her onto his lap, taking care to keep her gown modestly arranged, then leaned down to give her a lingering kiss.
When he pulled away, Shelley laid her head on his chest and was immediately enchanted by the strong thud of his heartbeat in her ear. “Thank you.”
Then she caught sight of Cecine and saw pain on his face for just an instant. Did he actually care, about her or Hastion? If so, would either of them ever know?
She sighed. “Okay, I’m ready.”
Tysan smiled reassuringly. “All will be well, Shelley…”
Chapter Twenty-One
Cecine swore inwardly. It had been more than thirty hours since the retrogression process was initiated and Shelley still hadn’t given in to the need for sedation. She lay on her bunk, her hair bound up in a messy knot on top of her head, sweating profusely, occasionally moaning and writhing. Though she’d accepted the pain relief measures Tysan offered, they weren’t enough—she was already looking bruised in places, and her flesh was so painfully sensitive Hastion could no longer blot her brow or comfort her with cool compresses.
So Cecine waited, feeling utterly powerless. He’d sworn never to be under the control of another female, and yet somehow, even as she lay there weak, helpless and in pain…Shelley controlled him.
Her body jerked, and she began to weep.
“Shelley, let Tysan sedate you,” he ground out.
“No,” she sobbed.
“You’re only doing this to punish me.”
She gave a choked laugh. “Yeah, because this is all about you.”
“Leave her alone,” Hastion said from chair on the other side of her.
“You don’t have to stay, you know,” Shelley said.
“Yes, I do.”
“No. You don’t. In fact, I’d rather you didn’t.” She keened and turned away from him, curling on her side.
Hastion carefully stroked her hair. “My precious Shelley, I wish I could hold you.”
“Me too.”
Choking on anger and bitter envy, Cecine looked away. United now by their distrust of him, they had become completely and exclusively each other’s rather than his.
“Sir, your pheromones would help ease her distress,”
Tysan sent.
Cecine gave him a hard look through the observation window.
“My mood really isn’t conducive to pheromone emission.”
“Neither was Commander Kellen’s when Monica transitioned. But since she was obviously suffering even in her induced coma, he and Lieutenant Shauss found ways to stimulate their pheromone emissions for her.”
“What ways?”
“I believe they tried fantasizing first, but it became more effective when Shauss began enumerating aloud the acts he intended to perpetrate on Monica.”
“That’s my daughter you’re talking about,”
Cecine reminded him wearily.
Tysan shrugged.
“It was successful. She was much less agitated for hours afterward.”
Frowning, Cecine looked at Shelley. In her present condition, he couldn’t even fantasize about perpetrating sexual acts on her.
Hastion, on the other hand… His feelings for the young male might be in complete disarray, and more than a little conflicted at the moment, but that lessened none of the urge to have him again. And to make it last this time, to punish him, to make him beg and plead for his release. To see how far he could be pushed.
And why shouldn’t he? Clearly neither Hastion nor Shelley had any interest in seeing his side of the situation. What more did he have to lose?
Before he finished the thought, Hastion looked at him and froze as though he’d realized he was in the sights of a predator.
“What would you do to relieve Shelley’s pain, Ensign?”
“Anything, sir.”
“Tysan suggests stimulating our pheromone streams.”
Although he looked wary, Hastion said,
“There’s nothing I won’t do for her.”
“Will you submit to me?”
“Haven’t I always, sir?”
“I want more.”
“What more could you want?”
“I want you under my control this time, not yours.”
His face shuttered immediately.
“I don’t know what you mean, sir.”
“I think you do, but let me spell it out for you.”
Cecine leaned toward him.
“I don’t want you grinding your teeth and clenching your fists and doing everything you can to conceal your reactions from me. I want to see you this time, Ensign—I want to hear you and know what you’re thinking and feeling. And if you think you can’t manage to give me that, I want permission to do whatever is required to force it from you.”
Hastion barely hesitated.
“You’re welcome to try, sir, but only on the condition that my obligation to serve you will be satisfied. After today, our bond will be converted to a traditional bond and you will treat me as you would any other second. Anything more must be negotiated.”
“Agreed.”
He wasn’t conceding anything he hadn’t already lost, and if he were ever to have Hastion again, he’d have him fully, without reservation, or not at all.
“Tysan, we require privacy.”
“I’ll be in the main lab until you summon me, sir. What about Dr. Teague?”
Cecine twitched. She was so quiet he’d forgotten she was asleep on the bunk behind him.
When he got up and touched her shoulder, Monica immediately rolled over. “What? Is Shelley okay?”
“We require privacy for at least an hour.”
She stiffened. “I told her I wouldn’t leave.”
“You don’t have to leave the ship. Just this lab.”
“Why?”
Cecine raised a brow at her. “In order to increase our pheromone emissions to ease Shelley’s pain, I’m going to perpetrate acts of a sexual nature on my second.”
“Oh.” She grimaced. “In that case, I guess I’ll go hang out with Tysan.”
“He’s next door in the lab.”
She left them alone without another word.
“Am I imagining things or did you just say you’re going to perform sexual acts on Hastion?” Shelley asked, shifting with obvious care to face him again. Though her eyes were ringed with dark circles, they’d brightened with interest.
Pleased with her response, he smiled. “I did, indeed. Stand up, Ensign.”