Fated Mate Conquered - Luna Voss Page 0,11

experience. My toes curl, and my sore butt rises off the bed as I arch my back, stifling a moan.

On the other side of the room, a picture hanging on the wall that I’ve never even noticed before falls to the ground with a crash. I look up, startled, and then return to what I was doing, too overcome by pleasure to think any more about it.

5

Turan

My claws itch as I walk up stairs of the Plaza Hotel. Room 371. That’s where they’re staying.

Those three spoiled human men who harassed Kora and Aspen earlier may have avoided meeting me this afternoon, but they’re going to meet me tonight. They need to know exactly how unacceptable it is for them to ever touch Vostra women.

The Butarza Family doesn’t own the Plaza Hotel, but we have enough influence in the city that it wasn’t difficult for me to acquire the room number. And on the off-chance my appearance causes a noisy commotion, my contact at the hotel will make sure the authorities aren’t called until I’m well out of the building.

Time to scare the shit out of some rich kids.

I stop outside the door, trying to decide how best to proceed. It’s been a while since I personally needed to intimidate someone like this. Probably since I was a recruit. Usually, lower-level vostrata take care of that kind of thing, not captains.

Not this time. This time is personal.

I decide to knock. No need to make things complicated. I wait calmly outside the door for it to open.

It does, and one of the men from earlier greets me. He’s shirtless and has a drink in his hand. He eyes me. I don’t think he was expecting to see a Voorian, much less an unsuppressed male.

“What the fuck do you want?” he says aggressively as he concludes that I’m not room service.

“I’m here to talk to you about what happened earlier,” I growl, pushing past him into the room.

“Hey, what the—” he tries to block me but I ignore him, shutting the door behind me.

He grabs my arm, apparently under the impression he has some kind of physical advantage. He doesn’t. I shake his grip off easily, then grab him by the neck and slam him against the wall. My claws extend, just slightly, just enough to poke dangerously into his skin without drawing blood.

“Henry, are you—” I turn just as the two other humans rush into the room. They freeze as they see me, identical expressions of shock on their dumb, pasty faces. One of them has a black eye and a bandage covering his nose, presumably from Aspen launching trash at him.

Without releasing the human whose name apparently is Henry, I simply use my other hand to draw my gun and point it at the other two.

“Don’t fucking move,” I growl.

They both freeze. I can tell from their reactions that this is the first time either one of them has ever been on the wrong side of a plasma pistol.

“Who... who are you?” one of them stutters, eyeing my weapon with fear.

“It doesn’t matter who I am,” I say. “It matters who I represent, and the lesson all three of you are about to learn.”

I let go of the human I’m holding and he slumps to the ground, panting and clutching his throat.

“Go over to your friends,” I order, gesturing with my gun.

Henry joins his companions, practically quivering. I lower my weapon, but keep it in my hand threateningly.

“Earlier today, you interacted with two women. You know what I’m talking about, don’t you?”

All three stare at me in confusion.

“Two women!” I roar, pointing my gun at them. “A Voorian and a half-Voorian. Tell me you know what the fuck I’m talking about or I swear one of you is getting shot in the kneecap.”

In actuality, I have no intention of discharging my weapon. But they don’t know that. The three men all start nodding so quickly they’re risking whiplash, assuring me that they do in fact know the women I’m referring to.

I guess they like their kneecaps.

“Those women are off-limits,” I growl. “In fact, all women are. As long as you’re on Doros, not one of you will interact with one single, solitary female except as necessary. And when you do, you will treat them with respect. No touching, no grabbing, no shitty comments. You’re going to treat every woman you meet like she’s your sister, or your mother, or someone in your life who you actually give a shit about.”

They all