While Slade was busy recovering, Beth had jumped.
“We had an understanding, Slade. Did we not?”
Prick. “Yes,” Slade hisses through fangs that sprout with his emotions.
“Tsk, tsk, Slade. Find the hopper. Bring her back to her home world.”
Slade does not wish to hurt Beth Jasper. She has the bravest heart of any being he has ever encountered. He does not want to be the one who stops its beating.
He also does not wish Dimitri's threat against the Bloodlings to come to fruition. Their women have been captive since the great uprising after the death of Beth Jasper's mother.
The King of the Bloodlings, Slade's sire, had a warrior so fierce, he could kill twenty nightlopers with his own hands.
Then a female who reflected into the wrong sector compromised the warrior, Gunnar. Her death robbed him of his mind.
After the death of Slade's sire, Gunnar, Beth's father, was imprisoned.
Nothing consoles him, and he is too dangerous to set free.
With Slade's sire dead and their greatest warrior imprisoned, a slaver raid crippled the Bloodlings’ force of the warriors.
Now Dimitri holds the strings to Sector One. He enslaves the Bloodling females while their race dwindles without the normal birthing of offspring.
Beth Jasper is the key.
If Slade wins her trust then delivers her to Dimitri, he will release the Blooding females and allow the dying race to flourish once more.
It's rudimentary.
Except, Beth will become Dimitri's queen. Part Bloodling, part Reflective, she is a perfect blending of the species. Their offspring would bring all three species together. A being who is part nightloper, Bloodling, and Reflective could travel to other worlds and dominate them one by one.
Dimitri's progeny would be unstoppable. A Reflective is a neutral vessel. A Reflective who is also Bloodling is two thirds of the way to being a perfect catalyst for the domination of the thirteen sectors.
Beth can free the Bloodling race forever.
But Slade’s heart and mind will fail him with that choice. He clenches his fists, casting his eyes to the floor to hide the slide of his emotions across a face normally steeped in blankness.
Slade still remembers Beth's delicate body against his own—and her plea that Slade protect her from Ryan.
“Do not let him have me,” she asked in a voice breathless with exhaustion.
It made Slade harden to think of her body. Her voice.
Everything that she is.
Slade resists the truth, for it is too damning. He wants Beth Jasper for himself, to breed her and keep her as his mate.
“Will you do it, prince? Will you fetch the hopper for me?”
Slade's chin jerks up. He carefully schools his expression to nothingness once more. Though Dimitri's nostrils flare hard to catch the scent of Slade’s emotions, he will be unable to.
Slade is of royal blood, after all, and has a fine ability to scent-mask.
Dimitri watches him closely.
Slade leans back in a hard chair, and it groans under his weight. “Of course.”
His eyes narrow at Slade. “Do not fuck her, Slade, or I will cut off your prick.”
Slade’s heart speeds, but he sneers, “Is that all you think of?”
Dimitri tilts his chin, and golden eyes that speak of his lion heritage seem to debate the ceiling of the lair. “Mostly.”
“You are pathetic,” Slade says, fantasizing about beheading Dimitri with his bare talons.
A smile ghosts the slaver's lips. “You can hide most emotions, but lust is the strongest of all, and you reek of it, my friend.”
Slade stills, and Dimitri leans forward. “I would love to feel flattered, presuming you wish to pierce me with your sizeable attributes, but I have it on good authority, you fancy your sex from the fairer persuasion. So it is just the mention of Beth Jasper that gets you salivating like a rutting bull.”
Slade can't deny it, but he clamps down on his rage, and his apparent desire for Beth, with an effort. Casually, he leans back in the wooden chair, lacing his hands behind his head, and lifts a shoulder. “She is tempting, I'll admit, but she's just a hopper.”
Dimitri steeples his fingers beneath his chin. “Just a hopper?” He shakes his head, a sound of disbelief escaping his lips in a soft hiss. “This is where you stumble upon your words, Bloodling.”
Slade remains silent, continuing his feigned nonchalance.
“She is so much more than the sum of her genetics. Beth Jasper is the key to your females. She is the ultimate manipulator of Gunnar—the greatest war strategist of the millennium. Do you not think if he knew his union had produced a daughter, he could not be