Retribution (Kall Alien Warriors #3) - Sue Lyndon Page 0,40

have already decided. You will share my bed and you will obey me, human.”

“I see,” she whispered in a tone infused with bitterness.

Frustrated by her displeased reaction, he rose to his feet and departed the brig without another word.

Fluxx, he’d had no idea human females could be so stubborn.

A day passed, and then another, and still General Zamek didn’t visit Layla. She wasn’t sure what to think. Whenever she replayed their last conversation, she was left even more confused.

They’d only slept together once, yet he wanted to keep her as his mistress. Was it because he felt something for her, or because she was his only option for female companionship? His people believed he was cursed. He would likely never manage another marriage match, no matter how wealthy he might be or how high his status as a warrior.

Nevertheless, her heart ached for him. He’d lost two wives and hadn’t had children with either of them, which meant his prospects for a family had died with Shessema. Michael had taken that away from him.

The warship gave a sudden shudder, and she jumped to her feet and peered out into the corridor. She couldn’t see much, just the clear front walls of the smaller cells. Her stomach twisted with nerves. Was there a problem with the ship?

The next shudder caused her to fall backward. She landed with a sharp thud, then scrambled to her feet and went into the bathroom. She remembered hiding in the bathroom once as a child during a tornado, Aunt Colleen holding her tight as they hid in the shower together. It likely didn’t work that way on a spaceship if the vessel was experiencing problems or was under attack, but she still felt safer in the small, enclosed space of the bathroom.

She huddled on the floor of the shower, hugging her knees to her chest, as shudder after shudder rocked the Tammusha. Despite her conflicting feelings for General Zamek, she hoped nothing bad happened to him. Worry clenched in her gut at the possibility of him getting hurt during battle… or whatever it was that was happening out there.

Her sense of isolation increased. What if this part of the warship sustained damage and she died all alone? Her throat burned. Fuck if the general’s offer to make her his mistress didn’t sound good now.

Deep down, she knew a life as his mistress would be far easier than as a slave. Yet she hadn’t readily accepted his offer. Well, not that it was even an offer. He’d become agitated by her reluctance and told her outright that his decision had been made and she would become his mistress.

This time, he wasn’t giving her a choice.

Perhaps she’d wounded his pride and that was why he was avoiding her. Two days might not seem like a lot to him, but here in the brig, where she had no one to talk to but herself, it felt like a fucking eternity.

The shudders came less and less, but she still didn’t leave her spot on the shower floor. Was the general on the bridge, assisting his warriors? Even though she knew he had duties on the warship to which he must attend during an emergency, she experienced a brief stab of betrayal at being left all alone to worry.

What would he do or say the next time he saw her? Would he expect to have sex, just because he’d decided she was now his mistress? Though she’d very much enjoyed the intimacies they’d shared, she was seriously starting to regret it. Maybe if she hadn’t consented to his touch, the idea of making her his mistress wouldn’t have crossed his mind.

She tried to focus on the scary times with the general, hoping to distance herself from the warmth that usually filled her when she thought of him. She replayed the horrifying moment in the courtroom when she’d been so certain he was about to kill her, followed by the time he’d swung a sword at her neck, only to stop just in time. A shiver rushed through her. And then there was the whipping, the day he’d shown up in her cell holding that leather strap.

She forced herself to remember the fear and the pain. Each brutal lash on her bare back. Each cry that escaped her lips. Each silent prayer for help that she sent up to the universe.

But, even as she tried to focus on the fear and pain, her thoughts inevitably strayed to what had come after the