“I have all I need here.” He shrugged.

  That wasn’t a no. “We can’t return to Ahki.”

  Her father was reviled by the locals and Odoon would no longer shield them. That hatred would be transferred to her. Her male and her son would also be viewed as the enemy.

  Stealth nodded, his cheek sliding along hers. “Ahki wouldn’t be…optimal.” Pain edged his voice.

  It had been the site of his friends’ horrific deaths. Zebrina covered his hands with hers. She was an insensitive ass for considering the planet as a possible home.

  “Staying here is dangerous.” She looked at the smoke. It crept across the sky, a foreboding of events to come.

  “How large are the raiding parties?” Her warrior followed her gaze.

  “There have been as many as twenty Palavians spotted during each attack.” The reports varied. “They have four arms, can shoot multiple guns at the same time.” The humanoids were known for their savagery. “And there’s only three of us.”

  “That’s two more than necessary to defend ourselves.” Stealth glided his hands over his weapons, as though ensuring they were there. “We can stay here if that’s your desire. I can defeat twenty Palavians.”

  “Are we fighting the raiding parties?” Their son had joined them, his eyes glimmering with excitement, his flight suit dirtied beyond saving.

  “No.” She didn’t want him to fight anyone. “They haven’t attacked us.”

  “They’ve attacked other agri-lots.” Their son’s eagerness to engage with the enemy worried her. He viewed himself as a warrior, might take on a cause that wasn’t theirs.

  “Stay away from those agri-lots.” She waggled her finger at him. “The Ahkians are as likely to shoot you as they are to shoot the beings in the raiding party.”

  Vow opened his mouth.

  “Your mom is right.” Stealth defended her decision. “That isn’t our fight.”

  “Fuck,” their son muttered.

  “Language.” She and her warrior said that in unison.

  “But we should accelerate your training.” Stealth jumped to his booted feet, taking her with him. “Because they will attack us and when they do, we have to be ready for them.”

  “I’ll get my guns.” Their son rushed away from them, his excitement palpable.

  “Stealth.” Her stomach twisted, the thought of losing their only child making her ill.

  “I won’t allow him to be permanently damaged, my female.” He lowered her until her boots touched the ground, her form brushing over his. “The training will make that task easier. He’ll learn to protect himself and he’ll be…more predictable in battle.”

  “He’s impulsive.” She admitted that trait of his.

  “I’ll redirect that energy.” Her warrior skimmed his lips over hers, the contact comforting her.

  She clung to his shoulders and chased his kiss. He chuckled, his mirth vibrating her flesh. She pushed her tongue into his mouth, going on the offensive, claiming that terrain as her own.

  He tasted of spices and possibility. She sucked on him. He lifted her higher against him. Her booted feet dangled in the air, the power in his form exciting her.

  She had lost a friend this planet rotation. Her relationship with Odoon would never be the same.

  But she had made a commitment to Stealth, had cleared a space inside her for her cyborg. He could break her heart a second time.

  She’d take that risk. Being with her cyborg was good, was right. With him, she was sexier, more certain of herself, of what she wanted.

  During the solar cycles apart, she had merely existed. Now, she was vibrantly alive, all of her senses engaged.

  “My female.” He pulled away from her.

  Needing more, needing him, she grasped his face, holding him in place. He could have resisted. He was bigger, stronger. But he relented, his lips curving into a smile.

  She ravished his mouth, plunging into him again and again, shameless with passion. This was what she craved, what she—

  “We’re training.” Disgust wrapped around their son’s words. “There’s no kissing during training.”

  Oh, fuck. She burrowed her face into Stealth’s shoulder. Their son must have moved at cyborg speed. “You sensed him returning, didn’t you?” she murmured. That was why he had tried to break their embrace.

  And she, intent on sating her desires, hadn’t allowed him to withdraw. She’d attacked him.

  “Our son is very noisy.” Her warrior chuckled, finding the humor in the embarrassing situation.

  “I heard that.” Vow stomped around them.

  “I meant for you to hear that.” Stealth petted her hair, not releasing her. “Go back to the domicile and quietly approach us.”

  “You’re going to kiss her again, aren’t you?” Their son’s voice faded.

  “Yes.” Her male cupped her chin, raising her gaze. She squirmed, her mortification mixing with anticipation.

  “Ugh.” That response was barely audible. “She’s my mom.”

  Stealth laughed and covered her lips with his.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Four planet rotations later, Stealth continued to expand his son’s fighting skills. The previous rest cycle, the newly manufactured K Model had mastered throwing daggers at static targets. The challenge this rest cycle was hitting moving targets.

  “Mom is not going to like this.” His son juggled his weapons between his hands, his nervousness palpable.

  Stealth agreed with him. Zebrina wouldn’t like it, which was why he had waited until she had entered the domicile for the rest cycle to address this part of their son’s training.

  “This is how I learned.” The Humanoid Alliance trainers had thrown daggers at them for amusement. “You can’t damage me worse than the enemy had.”

  On the Homeland, warriors used simulations to train. Using himself as a target was the low-tech alternative.

  It had a cost attached to it.

  Although he was wearing body armor and should be protected, mistakes happened. Vow would hit his bare skin with at least one of his throws. That was 92.6315 percent certain.

  Stealth would endure that pain to improve his son’s skills.

  “Okay, I’ll do it.” His son threw both of his daggers, flinging them at cyborg speed.

  “Not okay.” Stealth snatched the blades out of the air before they struck his face. “Wait until I start moving.” He lobbed the weapons back to his son. “First, I’ll simulate human opponents.”

  He dashed around the agri-lot, varying his patterns, running at a variety of human speeds, making the challenge as unpredictable as an enemy would.

  The space was dark but that shouldn’t hinder his son much. Cyborgs’ visual systems operated well with limited light.

  He avoided his female’s beloved plants. She worked hard on her plots of soil and wouldn’t be pleased if she woke at sunrise and found the vegetation trampled.

  “Aim for the middle of the circle.” Stealth told his son. He’d decorated the body armor on his left arm with a red dot the size of his female’s fist. Eventually, as his son’s skills improved, it would be reduced to the width of a fingertip.

  Vow scrunched up his face, his concentration visible, and he hurled his daggers at him. He missed, the blades whizzing behind Stealth.

  “Fuck.” His son retrieved his weapons. He wiped the blades on his flight suit. His shoulders slumped.

  “No one succeeds on their first throw.” Stealth tried to repair some of the damage to his son’s self-confidence. “If the skill was natural, we wouldn’t require training.” Cyborgs would have been programmed with the ability. “Watch my feet. They’ll tell you where I’m heading.”

  His son tried again and again. His accuracy improved until he hit Stealth’s arm and finally the red dot.

  “I knew you could do it.” Stealth beamed at him, proud of his offspring.

  Vow grinned. “I’m getting good at this, aren’t I?”

  “You are.” He reassured his trainee, giving him the positive reinforcement he desperately needed. “Now, try again.”

  Stealth raised and lowered his body as he ran, adding that variable to the exercise, simulating opponents of different heights. Daggers bounced off his body armor.

  “Fuck.” His son cursed, retrieving his weapons.

  “A skilled opponent will be unpredictable. A warrior—”

  His lifeform scans indicated a humanoid approached the East wall. Stealth turned his head in that direction, straining his auditory system to hear the being, trying to identify him or her.

  His son, focused on his training, threw his daggers.

  Stealth caught one of them. The other blade skimmed his neck, leaving a trail of pain across his skin.

  Fraggin’ hole. He gritted his teeth. Wait, he transmitted, holding up one of his hands.

  I sense him. Vow jogged to his side, his eyes wide. Are we under attack?

  His stubborn son had finally communicated through the transmission lines. Stealth’s joy was tempered by concern. The humanoid traveled north along the wall. It could be an attack. The being could be looking for the best access point. Or it could be a perimeter check.

  A visual was needed. He grabbed a sturdy branch downed after the previous rest cycle’s windstorm, placed it across the trench to the south of the being. Setting a booted foot on the makeshift bridge, he tested it. It didn’t crack or bend.

  I’ll cross first, then you’ll follow. The branch wouldn’t hold both of them at the same time.

  His son nodded. His hands rested on his guns.

  Stealth rushed across the branch. The space between the trench and the wall was too narrow to stand on. He climbed halfway up the stacked rock, using grooves for handholds.

  His son crossed, extending his arms to balance his form. His skills on the vertical were stronger than on the horizontal. He climbed like a seasoned warrior.

  They reached the top, looked over the edge. A male was visible, carrying illumination, walking slowly, making no attempts to hide from view. His skin was pale blue. His hair was a couple of shades darker.

  He’s an Ahkian. Vow identified him.

  They’re completing perimeter checks. That was prudent of the humanoids but it would make Stealth’s task of monitoring his female’s agri-lot more difficult. Mere lifeform scans wouldn’t be sufficient to keep the beings he loved safe. We’ll have to verify their identities every time.

  Every time? His son lifted his eyebrows. They’re humanoid. They’ll have a set schedule for perimeter checks.

  A savvy attacker would maintain that same schedule. Palavians are humanoids also. A cyborg’s lifeform scans couldn’t differentiate between the various humanoid species. They could kill an Ahkian at a point earlier in his route, take his place, and our scans wouldn’t detect that. That was what he’d do. Never assume anything. That’s how beings die.

  Being a warrior involves much more than killing, doesn’t it? His son’s tone lilted with interest. There are many components we must master.

  A warrior protects. Killing might be what others perceived the role to be but it didn’t reflect reality. That’s our primary mission. Protecting others and ourselves might involve ending lifespans or it might not. We use the tools we require to fulfill our mission.

  Stealth climbed down the wall and crossed the trench. After his son had done the same, he removed the branch, taking that option away from any potential attacker.

  He glanced toward the domicile, where his female waited for him. During previous rest cycles, he had trained his son until sunrise and then joined Zebrina in her chambers.

  That schedule wasn’t maintainable now. He had to be present for the perimeter checks, couldn’t yet project how often the Ahkians would perform them.

  Balance the branch between two rocks. Vary the angles and practice crossing as quickly as possible. He gave his son a skill to master while he visited with Zebrina. An attacker might move at cyborg speed.

  Modified humanoids move as quickly as we do. His son had been accessing the cyborg databases.

  There might be other species with the same abilities. Much of the universe remains unexplored. There are potential enemies who don’t appear in any database. Stealth strode toward the domicile. Notify me if you detect beings or sense any suspicious activity. He’d be monitoring their surroundings also.

  Yes, sir. Vow straightened.

  He hadn’t yet earned the usage of Dad or Father by his son. Stealth entered the structure. As he hadn’t yet earned the human love words from his female.

  He slipped into her chamber. “My female.”

  She rolled onto her side, her eyes wide, her lush body bare. “You’re early. Is something wrong?” She illuminated the chamber, blinking at the sudden brightness. “Is our son okay?”

  “He’s undamaged.” Stealth removed his body armor and his boots. “There’s no need for alarm.”

  “Thank the stars.” She blew out her breath.

  He’d worried his female unnecessarily. “I will protect him.”

  “You’ll protect him from others.” The certainty in her voice warmed his chest. “Our son is skilled at finding ways to hurt himself. He once took apart a projectile. That was a disaster.”

  Stealth tilted his head, not processing the correlation between the statements. “Taking apart a projectile shouldn’t have been dangerous.”

  “He utilized a rock to dissect it.” Her lips flattened. “The projectile blew up in his face. I saw his frame. That was how deep his wounds were.”

  “Our son repaired.” He sat on the edge of the sleeping support, set one of his hands on her hip. His female had required assistance with their offspring and he hadn’t been available. He regretted that. “Cyborgs function best when their systems are fully utilized.”

  “I tried to keep him busy.” She shook her head. “But I had to sleep and he never stopped moving. Even as an infant, his little arms and legs would constantly thrash the air, like he was fighting an unseen enemy. It was adorable but tiring.”

  Fighting was what they were manufactured to do. “I should have been by your side.”

  “You’re here now.” She gazed at him, speculation in her eyes.

  His female continued to doubt him.

  “I won’t leave you.” He would tell her that as many times as it took to make her believe it.

  “I hope you don’t.” Her voice was soft. “Your son cares for you. He might never tell you that but he does. I’ve never seen him this happy.”

  Stealth had never been this happy also. He had a female and an offspring. There was no killing, no death, no loss. And he was free, beholden only to the beings he cared about. “Our son communicated through the transmission lines moments ago.”

  “Finally.” She smiled, her happiness illuminating her beautiful face. “I knew he’d see the advantages of communicating that way. He’s very intelligent, our son.”

  “He has a wise mother.” He stroked her side, savoring the smoothness of her skin. “She’s beautiful and brave and strong.” He turned toward her. “I—”

  “You’re bleeding.” She sat upright. “You were the being hurt.” She touched his neck.

  “It’s minor damage.” It no longer pained him.

  “Let me see it.” She grabbed a cleaning cloth from the horizontal support positioned close to them and dabbed his skin with a corner of the cloth. “It’s sealing but you need a pain inhibitor.”

  “No pain inhibitors.” He didn’t require them. “They won’t allow me to feel this.” He cupped the back of her head and covered her lips with his.

  She embraced their kiss, her eagerness, her sweetness exciting him. The cleaning cloth fell to the floor. Her fingers crept up his chest. His muscles flexed in response, his circuits buzzing.

  He lowered her onto her back, bracing himself above her, the length of him overlaying the length of her. Her curves cushioned him, the most welcoming sleeping support a male could ever have.

  And she was his, all his. There had been no contact from the Ahkian, his rival, for planet rotations. His female missed the male. Once or twice, he had spotted her gazing at the adjoining wall, a wistful expression on her face. For that, he was sorry.

  But he celebrated being chosen, relished being the male she welcomed into her chamber, shared her concerns with, whispered her secrets to. It was an honor he would be vigilant in deserving.

  He would prove himself worthy again and again until she gave him all of her, the human love words, her heart, her soul. Then he would protect that gift by being the male she deserved.

  He mouthed over her chin, down her neck. She moaned and arched her back, presenting her body to him, her breasts full, her nipples tight.

  “You’re beautiful.” He nuzzled between her breasts.

  She squeezed her curves together, smothering him with softness. Fraggin’ hole. If he could choose a way to die, death by his female’s breasts would be it.

  He inhaled her musk, licked the salt off her skin. She trembled, the motion brushing her skin against his cheeks, buffing him with the most decadent material in the universe.

  “Need to feel more of you.” He lowered, pressing his form against hers, his shaft connecting with her wetness. She sucked in her breath, wiggling under him, the motion flooding his senses with bliss.

  He lifted his head and gazed at her. Her eyes were darker than the sky. Her face was flushed, her mouth open. His female was as aroused as he was.

  She rubbed against him, dragging her nipples along his chest, branding his cock with her juices. He gritted his teeth, the pressure at the base of his simulated spine building.

  “Zebrina.” His voice was husky with wanting. “My female.”

  “Stealth.” Her inner thighs pressed against his hips, her knees bent. “My male.” She rocked, taking her pleasure from him, a female in her prime, grown, confident, skilled.

  It aroused him to the point of pain. He ground into her movements and a tremor swept over her. Her eyes widened. Her grip on his shoulders intensified.

  “Inside me.” She panted. “I want your cock inside me.”

  “Yes.” He wanted that also. Pulling back, he aligned himself with her entrance, bumping his cock head against her deliberately, teasing his female.