He loved that I was twitching and tense, loved that no amount of sweet-scented air might change my growing sense of outrage.

  Flexing his power over me—how he made my body crave—was underhanded. Cruel dominance was established. Now, I knew. If I wanted him to pleasure me, I had to ask… or wait for heat. Until one of those two situations was present, he would not give.

  I would have to admit I had needs, even if they were needs I had not asked for.

  When the final spurt of white cream came, he caught it up with that demonic, long tongue, pulling it into his mouth.

  It was clear he meant to kiss me, stalking forward with a mouthful of what should have been mine. I was already snarling outrage when he dipped that coated tongue deep into my mouth and rolled his taste anywhere he might reach.

  Every bit of my brain screamed that I should have been disgusted, gagging or biting him in response to such an affront.

  But I was moaning against him, chasing his tongue for more.

  Why had I not fallen to my knees and sucked him dry when I had the chance?

  How long would I have to wait to get what I needed?

  Rubbing against him like a feral cat, slick ran hot down my thigh, but there was nothing to sate me.

  This wasn’t heat; it was something else.

  Something I could put an end to if I might just get myself under control.

  “That was so mean!” I whined when he pulled his tongue from my mouth.

  Smug, he licked his lips, backing away from where I had once again become one with the wall. “Now, imagine how I felt every time I heard your song over the last ten years and could not have you.”

  He sounded so relaxed, the exact opposite of my shrill complaint. “Was this some kind of punishment, because I don’t want to be with you at the academy?”

  “No.” Smug was not a strong enough word. Cyderial was in a state of full-blown arrogance. “You could have had me for the asking. You chose to pretend you do not desire your mate. From now on, if you find yourself eager for my cock, you ask for it. And if you do, I will fuck you until you see stars.”

  After the frustrating shower, my day took an unexpected turn.

  While blotting me dry with soft towels, he told me he had a surprise. “To show you that I do not intend to repeat the mistakes of my predecessors, we're going to get dressed, and I’m taking you to visit your mother.”

  Shrieking with unexpected joy, I smiled until my cheeks hurt. “But you don’t like humans!”

  “I will tolerate her for your sake.” Thoroughly pleased with himself, Cyderial ordered me to be still so he might finish removing all remaining water droplets. And then he gave me a wonderful gift.

  Female clothing.

  A very pretty dress. Soft pink, with gossamer layers that floated down to my knees. Cut to my exact measurements, so nothing pinched.

  And as it was designed for a woman, there was no need to bind my breasts.

  Instead, the garment enhanced my feminine form, made me feel utterly female. Yet it was modest and comfortable.

  And I could not stop smiling, the little tug at the corners of my lips refusing to fade even with my bashfulness that he could see how strongly such an offering affected me.

  This gave him more power over me, but it could not be helped.

  I loved female things!

  So much so that I submitted to him dressing me himself.

  And found such fabric was heaven on my skin.

  Stiff, scratchy, and hideous academy uniforms were a form of torture no girl should ever have to bear. Even the beloved garment I had sewn by hand was nothing to that soft pink material floating around me.

  “You look stunning.”

  I looked like a half-drowned rat with wet hair, but at least I was a very beautifully dressed half-drowned rat.

  Grabbing my damp strands, I began to squeeze the water out before they left a mark on the outfit, only for him to stop me, directing my attention to a machine. A magical device that instantly dried my long hair so it could softly hang down my back.

  Another simple pleasure females in the dormitories were denied. “Do you have any idea how hard it is to tend to our hair at the academy? Why refuse us such a simple kindness?”

  “It is complicated and has much to do with human perception of what we are doing there. Drawing government attention by placing large requisitions for luxury products would ultimately cause the girls harm. And, as you know, females are permitted to cut their hair short like the males.”

  “But we don’t want to be like men!”

  “Nor do we, your males, want you to be anything other than what you are. But most importantly, we want you to be safe.” Eyes earnest, he took the machine from my grip and set it aside. “Once mated, depending on the male’s ability to provide, it all changes. I can give you anything you want.”

  His boast was not missed, as I groused, “Or, you deny us these things so we might marvel and swoon when we’re finally treated with respect. I’m not stupid, Cyderial. You wield an advantage, seducing with dresses and magic machines.”

  “But you are still smiling, even if you know I’m doing everything in my power to win you. You can’t help yourself,” he teased, utterly charmed by my irritation.

  Yes, I could have two feelings at once. I was a higher lifeform, for goodness’ sake.

  “I have more prepared for you, my love.” The male waved his hand over a touchpad, and the bathroom counters unfolded to display drawers filled with ornaments for my hair and a variety of cosmetics. “If these are not to your liking, others can be procured.”

  Blinking at the collection, not having a clue what most of the cosmetics would be used for, I could not resist fingering such treasures… even as I narrowed my eyes at the man.

  But perhaps I had some deeply rooted personal flaw, because I could not keep my attention on him. Not with so many new things to experience.

  Oh, how I wanted to play!

  But the male continued standing there, leaning against the doorframe, watching me intently. The hovering was unwelcome, so I cut him a glare. “The way you are staring is making me uncomfortable. I want privacy.”

  To squeal and hoard and touch everything.

  Arms over his chest, staring in that hungry way of his, he refused me. “No.”

  He looked stately, even indolently leaning against the wall so he might watch.

  Meanwhile, I was trying not to appear gleeful that there were six shades of lipstick to choose from.

  While I chose a soft, neutral pink, he offered a low, “I would prefer if only I got to see your hair loose.”

  Leaning toward the mirror, lipstick at my cupid’s bow, I asked, “Why?”

  “It’s mine.”

  No, it was actually mine. He may have offered to let me outside, but that too should have been a natural right. Bargaining with him in this way was not going to be good for me later. Not after I lost so much footing in my exuberance for his gifts. “I’ll be keeping it down.”

  Grumbling from the corner, he gave me a not-so-subtle warning. “Are you sure that’s the choice you want to make?”

  Glaring, I smacked my freshly painted lips. “Yes. I don’t have any pictures to mimic, and I don’t know how to use any of these tools. And before you make a terrible suggestion, I am not wearing a regulation bun the first time I get to go out in real clothes. I’m not an academy recruit anymore; I’m a mate. That’s what you wanted. Deal with it.”

  “Fine.” But that irritated huff came with a clear suggestion that I would pay for it later.

  Smoothing my hair one last time, I pinched my cheeks to make them brighter and smiled at myself in the mirror.

  The pink, flowy dress was demure, covering everything, but it was so feminine I loved it in a way I could never have loved my precious black dress. It was a shame I had no polish for my talons, which remained unfiled since Cyderial stole me. They had grown wickedly long, deadly sharp. Flaring my fingers, I found I didn’t want to dull them, even if they were only dark-gray and not glittering ivory like fair Maeve’s.

  No one was going to measure my talons now. There would be no citations for lipstick, nor dresses, nor wearing my glorious hair down.

  “No more playing, kitten.” He pushed off the wall to steal me away from my new treasures and deliver me to my mother. “It’s time to take you out into the world.”

  3

  I should have known things would go wrong.

  “I wish for today to be a pleasure for you. Do not allow my agitation to take away from your moment of fun.” Lip curled, muscular frame dressed in a fresh uniform—shining ropes and glittering insignia leaving no doubt of his rank—the cold-blooded general marched me toward a waiting hover vehicle. “Yet I am finding removing you from our home more difficult than anticipated. I don’t want to share you, and the sensation is, frankly, painful.”

  No different than he, I was willing to fight dirty if that’s what it took to gain my freedom and remain outside. Staring forward as his driver opened a door for me, I hissed through my teeth, “But you love me, so you will do this.”

  And what was pain to those like us? Hybrids were designed to adapt to pain, suffer, and constantly knit ourselves back together.

  Jerking us both to a standstill, Cyderial halted our march. All seriousness, reaching for where my hand rested in the nook of his elbow, he commanded, “Say it again.”

  Confused, concerned I was about to be dragged back inside, I fumbled for words. “You love me?”

  “Yes. Remember that.” Every bit the cruel taskmaster I had known, the softness he might have shared with me when we were alone evaporated, and the hard, scary man I suffered since I was a child took his place. “If at any time you want to return to our home, you let me know.”

  Why would I do that? The city was remarkable, and I would not have to hide in the shadows to explore it. Adamant, I lifted my chin and gave him as good a stare as he gave me. “I want to see my mother.”

  Leaning forward to set his nose to my hair, he drew in a deep breath. “Do you feel feverish?”

  He was looking for excuses to deny me what he’d promised. And I had no pity for the beast within him. It already caused enough havoc in my life. Narrowing my eyes at his obvious ploy, I offered a smarmy smile. “No.”

  “Please, put your hair up.” A muscle in his jaw jumped.

  Agitated and embarrassed we had an audience in his driver, I snarled, “My mother is waiting for me. It’s too late for that now!”

  “I’ll have her brought here.”

  “Don’t you dare!” Miranda’s instructions were all I had to work with when it came to managing this man, and I was more than willing to bark at him if that ended this possessive insanity. “I want my mother, and she is waiting. You have kept me from her for long enough.” My voice dropped, vibrating with my thrum in a deep pitch I had not known myself capable of. “I order you to do what is best for me, not what is most comfortable for you.”

  Fighting every impulse to serve himself, Cyderial struggled for control. I could almost see him wrestling with the beast—the twitching around his eyes and the unnatural lack of blinking unsettling.

  But, with a few long minutes of tenuous silence, he won over the more primal parts of his brain. Silently, he handed me into the waiting vehicle, his every last glare threatening me a loss of all freedom should I disappoint him.

  And he kept up the simmering temper the whole twenty minutes it took to descend from his high tower to the misty midlevel housing.

  Unaware of the geography of the city, I spent my time marveling at the view from the window and ignoring his irritation as much as anyone trapped with a raging ogre might. Risa Colony lay at my feet, bustling and bursting at the seams. There were so many people moving in a lackadaisical dance. Like glittering insects crawling all over one another. Full of life, of color, all surrounded in high walls of fog that undulated as the filters forced the toxic air upward.

  I gaped, whispering to myself, “There are so many of them.”

  “Many more of them than us. Remember that, Lorieyn.” Cyderial’s warning was laced with something that forced a shiver up my nape.

  Noted. But that didn’t make me like them any less. Glancing away from the window to take in the luxury of his transport—soft seats, the polished trim—I pursed my lips.

  Cyderial’s hover car was something that would make even the wealthiest human envious. Growing up with hundreds of girls, I knew inciting envy was a foolish choice. And this vehicle was flagrantly ostentatious.

  I didn’t like it at all.

  Especially considering the hints of human unrest both Miranda and Cyderial had pointedly driven home. I had to wonder at his logic for choosing such a luxurious hover car.

  Once again, it seemed he read my thoughts, his weighted glance at my confounded expression telling.

  Wanting an explanation, I said, “You claimed the humans were overcrowded and provisions were monitored.”

  With a nod, he confirmed my statement. “It’s a failing capitalist society. Those who have much, flaunt what they will never share. They feed the poor the idea that if a person works hard enough, if they play the game just right, they too might own a car trimmed in vorec hide and polished to a high shine.”

  No hybrid sister would have ever behaved in such a manner, flaunting anything above another. It was tasteless and cruel. “Why do you have this ugly car?”

  Reaching for where my hand rested on the seat between us, Cyderial began toying with my fingers, the male softening the moment he touched me. “The president ordered all hybrids of a certain rank to travel in cars of this style. We are told it is a benefit of our dedication.”

  And maybe to some hybrids, it was, but even I could see there was a hook in that bait. “Because he wants humans to dislike you? To set you apart?”

  “I don’t think you want me to answer that at this moment.” Cracking his neck with a series of audible pops, so tense his jacket looked near to ripping at the seams, he let out a long, pained breath. And when the car landed with a gentle dip, Cyderial announced, “We’re here.”

  His driver jumped out to open the door, the less savory midlevel air rushing in. Cyderial handed me out of the car, his posture overtly protective and somewhat ridiculous, yet still I beheld a wonder.

  And a new sensory experience.

  Humans closely packed together had an aroma that tickled the inside of my nose and left my eyes watering. It wasn’t necessarily bad, but it was absolutely alien.

  When I’d explored the city with Maeve, we’d kept our distance from the crowds. To be in the crush… was a next-level experience.

  I loved it!

  Middling, the buildings nearby were dingy white, with street markers and faded lighting—so much grander than the academy would ever be. There were market stalls lining the streets, humans hawking everything from fabric to food. So much noise!

  The landing was crowded with vendors, with businesspeople moving from place to place, with mothers and their children… all busy going about their lives until they saw who climbed out of the grand vehicle to stand at the center of their neighborhood landing port.

  The hybrid humans. The novel female. The high-ranking male.

  He gained their notice, loose jaws and confusion on the faces of many.

  And I stared right back, rapt attention and a grin on my face.

  My smile was not returned. Instead, suspicious stares ran over my pretty pink dress, eyes lingering on my hands.

  The long, dangerous talons a dead giveaway that I was different. Inhuman.

  And if I looked anything like Cyderial, the midday sun had set my occasional scales to glimmering.

  Yet, hushed mutterings of excitement faded until a few hissed curses hit my ears. At least one human called us abominations.

  As if talking to the farmers I’d known for years, I offered the stunned crowd a greeting, gesturing to a nearby food stall. “Hi there. I protect the Section 27 fields. It’s lovely to see your crops turned out so well.”

  Silence.

  Which was not going to alter, not with Cyderial practically growling at my side.

  Despite whatever tensions festered between hybrids and humankind, the lingering hush in that moment was his fault. Dressed in his finest, he was unapproachable. Spine ramrod-straight and severe, surveying the crowd as if waiting for someone, anyone, to give him reason to act, he behaved like a walking threat.

  And this would not do.

  “You don’t have to be so intimidating,” I hissed under my breath, going so far as to stroke a touch down his arm. “If the point is to get people to like you, you’re going about this the wrong way.”

  Where my hair had fallen over my shoulder, Cyderial took it in his fingers, delivering it to the mass hanging down my back, scowling all the while. “Which is why I declined an armed escort. Soldiers with drawn weapons patrolling the streets would cause trouble for your mother. But should anything go wrong, know that several of my people are here watching out of sight. You are safe.”

  “Don’t you think you’re being a bit paranoid?” Aware this man’s reaction could be completely over the top, I added, “Would you act this way if I were not here?”

  My question went unanswered, Cyderial overtly scanning the crowd. “Don’t let your guard down. We’re not in a bad area of town, but that doesn’t mean bad people do not live here. You will hear things. Do not engage with those who slander you.”

  “Okay.” I could give him that.

  “And you will stay with me at all times.”

  What would be the point of running, if heat would drag me right back to him? And what of his reaction should I make such a foolish choice? I doubt I’d see the sky for a century. “Yes. I will stay with you.”

  Appeased, there on that platform where random humans congregated to stare, General Cyderial interlaced his fingers with mine.

  Just like I had seen lovers do in the city.

  I didn’t know why the simple gesture surprised me so much, but I caught myself looking down at our joined palms, confused by how intimate it felt… how warm his hand was surrounding mine. My hand was much smaller, the webbing between my fingers stretching to accommodate his grip. Yet, still we fit.