cyborgs. His brethren must be knowledgeable about her.
He scanned the databases, searching the combined histories of millions of cyborgs. There were multiple matches. All of the images belonged to one female. In one instant, her hair was blue. In another, it was pink. In several sightings, her hair was a brown matching her eyebrows. He projected that was her natural color.
In all of the images, she was the most beautiful being he’d ever seen anywhere in his long, death-filled lifespan. She was graceful and vibrant.
And regal.
His female was Princess Nanette of the planet Royaume.
“I won’t call you that…here.” He readily agreed to her stipulation. Because, fraggin’ hole, if any of the humanoids in the beverage outlet processed who she was, she’d be placed in peril.
Royaume had officially sided with the Humanoid Alliance. The entire universe was aware of that.
“You shouldn’t have come to this planet.” He lowered his voice. “You’re in grave danger.”
If she was another being, that prospect would thrill him. There would be a battle and the odds were against them. It would test his skills, give him the challenge he constantly sought.
But she was his female, was irreplaceable to him. And she was small, delicate, human. He couldn’t risk her lifespan.
“Who are you to tell one what one should or should not do?” She raised her chin, her unusual eyes flashing with defiance.
“My name is Truth and I’m your mercenary.” He reached for her leather-covered fingers.
One of the daggers pointed at him pricked his chin.
“She said to lower your weapons.” Truth didn’t wait for that to happen. He moved at cyborg speed, knocking the instruments out of their hands.
Metal clattered against stone as the blades hit the floor. His female’s three companions looked down at their weapons with open surprise, seemed shocked they’d been disarmed so quickly, so easily.
Which proved that his female needed him. Desperately.
As he needed her. He shifted in his chair. His cock was as hard as a dagger.
“As I was saying.” Truth returned his attention to his female, where it belonged. “I am your mercenary. You have what you’ve come here to find.”
I’m going on an adventure, J Model. He relayed that information to Dissent. You’ll have to return to the Reckless alone.
She’s your female? His friend sounded as surprised as Truth felt.
She’s my female. Not every cyborg met his genetic match. He had done that.
And she had come to the planet, looking for him. He would be her mercenary, would have one last expedition before he settled down.
With her, his female, his princess.
Chapter Four
Nancy gazed across the horizontal support at the male grinning at her.
He was devastatingly handsome, the smile curving his lips reaching his brilliant blue eyes. The rest of him was as monochrome as the planet they currently inhabited. His hair was thick and the blackest black. His skin was gray. The ink high on his cheek was the same color as his hair. The letter followed by numbers proclaimed to the universe who he was.
He was a cyborg, one of the warriors the Humanoid Alliance had manufactured to fight their wars, had released upon Royaume to control her and the beings under her queen’s rule.
And she wanted him. Her nipples had tightened upon his arrival. Her pussy was wet.
That disturbed her. Greatly.
She had to get rid of him. “You’re not the mercenary one is seeking.” She dismissed his ridiculous claim. “Your kind killed one’s kind, cyborg.”
“And your kind killed my brethren.” He shrugged his broad shoulders. His form was clad in black skintight body armor. “That is war.”
Her people had killed his kind…based on the intel she’d gathered. Guilt jabbed at her.
“You don’t care about your fellow machines?” She cared about the beings on Royaume. Very much. “Did the Humanoid Alliance not build empathy into your programming?”
He didn’t look like a machine. The humor in his countenance made him appear humanoid.
But that was what he was—a collection of bolts and circuits. It unsettled her that her body couldn’t tell the difference, that she desired him.
“Cyborgs aren’t machines.” His lips quirked upward. He seemed to find everything amusing. “We’re half organic, have brains as well as processors, flesh as well as frames.” He grasped her leather-clad hands.
Marthe clucked her tongue, expressing her disapproval.
Valentin hissed.
Claude grumbled.
Her entourage was upset with the cyborg’s handling of her. Nancy was a princess, was royalty. To touch her without permission was forbidden.
She tugged on her hands.
The cyborg didn’t release her. He didn’t care about protocol.
She found that exciting. To him, she was merely a female.
His