DRAEK

The woman who is to be my queen digs the heels of her palms into the tense muscles of my back. Her touch is familiar, steady.

I will never tell her, but the reason I accept her is because she is one of the few women who doesn't shy away from my touch. She is not a classical beauty according to Schovali men. Too tall, too muscular.

I have never cared much about physical appearances.

"Does that feel good, my lord?" Eildan purrs.

"It does."

"My poor husband-to-be. So much stress is carried on your shoulders. Your strong, steady shoulders. What a lucky woman I am to have such a man as my future master."

Such words are common enough with Eildan. I accept the praise with a grunt. No matter how often I tell her not to refer to me as 'master' she insists on doing so. It is in her training. Since it makes her uncomfortable to use my name, I have stopped asking her to.

Her hands slide over my shoulders, before she moves down my spine to glide over my buttocks, her touch light. Her signal that she wishes for me to initiate sex.

Once we are married, she will be within her right to initiate it herself. For now, though, it is seen as inappropriate. Women are not supposed to be sexual creatures. In betrothals, they may accept sex if they desire but it is not until marriage that they are meant to be overt with their husbands.

I ignore her hint. Though my body stirs at the thought of sex, I have too much on my mind.

"Does my husband-to-be wish to confide in his future wife?" Eildan asks, rubbing her hands down my back now.

Though I am nude, she will not see the evidence of desire from her touch. I lay face-down, my head on my folded arms.

If Eildan had not felt neglected of late, I would have refused the massage.

My wife-to-be was chosen for me by my father. The arrangements were made between him and Eildan's father. The daughter of a high-ranking official in Father's court, our union would increase her family's power and my father's support.

She isn't my first choice, as she is too reliant on her training. And, I have to admit, not even close to my intellectual equal, Eildan holds true to the lack of education as is fashionable for noble women. She cannot even repair a child's toy.

But not only does she enjoy my touch, she craves it. She does not hold my mother's heritage against me. It is as much as I can ask.

"I am thinking of the trade with humans my father has set me in charge of," I tell her.

Eildan's hands falter.

I cannot blame her. It is a reminder that, although she will be queen, there is one thing she cannot give me. Heirs.

A child has not been born to a Schovali mother and father for twenty years. The last I know of is my half sister. After the continual Ghengor attacks, my father decreed we would seek out other species to mate with. A controversial mandate but a necessary one.

Pure-blooded Schovali die.

Hybrids, at least, have a chance of survival.

I push myself to a sitting position. Eildan lowers her gaze and folds her hands in front of her as she steps back. She wears a thin nightdress, showing her lovely lavender breasts with their plump, violet nipples. Her long, midnight-blue hair falls to her waist and a dark triangle of curls sits between her legs.

"I will be leaving soon to meet with the human delegations and receive the trade," I tell her as I reach for my loose-fitted trousers. "Have you decided whether you wish to join me on the voyage?"

I want her to. I am going to select my breeding mate, along with the rest of my hand-picked warriors. I very much wish to have Eildan's opinion on the woman who will be sharing our bed.

Eildan peers up at me, her lavender cheeks turning pale pink with a blush. "If you wish me to, I will come. I have many duties here, but my first duty is to please you."

I let out an aggravated sigh. It was her way of saying she does not want to come. Why can't women just say what they think, rather than this double-speak?

"Have I displeased you?" Eildan asks, worried.

I pull a tunic on and belt it at my waist. "No, Eildan. You have not displeased me. I am angered that such trades are necessary in the first place."

Her clear eyes blink rapidly. "You disagree with your father?

"Of course not. The humans represent a new opportunity to increase our populations. A human female can produce a new child every year-cycle. Sometimes even more than one."

Eildan slides her hands down her stomach. A Schovali woman can only have one child every two-to-three years.

"All the same, I would prefer to turn our attention to finding a way to prevent the Ghengors from finding our cities, rather than dealing with a species fresh to space travel," I continue.

"Rebuilding our population seems as important as stopping the Ghengors. At least, it is what my father says," Eildan adds quickly. She bites her lip as she glances up at me from the top corner of her eyes. "I did not mean to speak out of turn."

I smile reassuringly at her. "You did not speak out of turn."

"I did."

"You did not—you reminded me of why this is important. Since humans have the shortest breeding cycles of any species we have met, they will quickly refill our nurseries."

"And once you have an heir?" Eildan presses.

"Then I will turn my focus on defeating the Ghengors."

Eildan kneels to help me put my shoes on. "Then I hope your breeding mate soon gets with child."

"As do I. So I can stop defending against the Ghengors and start destroying them."

It is not entirely true.

While I do wish we could build better defenses against our ancient enemy, that wasn't the reason I was dreading this trade.

My breeding mate will be just that. A human female I sleep with, impregnate, and use to produce my children. Nothing more. She will not even have the status of being a wife.

What sort of woman will she be? As meek as Eildan? Perhaps even meeker?

Will she be repulsed by me?

Regardless, I will do my duty, such as I have done all my life. Just as the female will.

"Your children will be strong and proud, like their father and grandfather," Eildan tells me.

I am dressed but she still wears the sheer fabric. I cannot tell if she is praising me or reassuring me. It would be an insult to suggest I am not confident about this.

I touch her cheek, willing her to look me in the eye. Her gaze remains down, toward the floor. "Take care of the city while I'm gone."

She is not truly in charge of anyone but the women. Eildan has gotten used to treating the city as her domain, though. I have no doubt that, if she decides my right-hand man is not doing a good enough job, she will find a way to let him know.

Eildan leans into my touch. "Of course, my lord. I am proud that you place so much trust in me."

"Of course." I wrap my arms around her, pulling her closer, as I revel in her receptivity to me. "What I find most enticing about this program is it will prevent the jealousy other city-heads have had with their breeding-wives."

Eildan's long fingers push under my shirt, igniting my blood. "I know my place. She will know hers."

"My queen." I bend, nibbling at her neck.

My queen who cannot bear my children. And the breeding mate who will give me my heirs but will receive no status herself from it.

What is there for either of them to be jealous of?

My personal communication unit flashes and beeps. Eildan glances at it.

"My father," I say as I pick up the unit.

Eildan bows and hastily escapes through the door attaching her chambers to mine. I watch her go, waiting until the door is shut before I answer Father's call. It is not appropriate for a woman, even my future queen, to witness to such a communication.

Brilliantly orange eyes peer from the wall screen as soon as I answer.

I bow respectfully. "Father. It is an honor to receive this communication."

The various city-ships that hold our people rarely contact one another. Communications make it easier for the Ghengors to track us.

"Draek, it is good to see you, my son." Father's mouth is set in his version of a smile. "How soon will you be going to collect the human breeding-females?"

"I am set to leave this day-cycle." I stand straight, keeping my own expression neutral. "I once again wish to thank you for entrusting these negotiations to me, Father."

He nods, his expression clearly indicating that he thinks it is a high honor indeed. His presumption rankles me.

Previously, the women traded between our species and others have been wives to the warriors they were assigned to. With such high positions, they have influenced our society for the better.

The human women will receive no such honors. Their purpose is to have as many children as their bodies will allow before being returned to Earth.

Their bodies are made to produce such large broods of children.

I still believe they deserve more for their services to the repopulations of our cities. That is, if the human-hybrid infants survive.

That is yet to be seen.

"My son," Father says, "I know you will not let me down. This alliance is too important for the Schovali. And you must lead by example. I expect to hear your breeding mate is pregnant by the end of the year-cycle. A strong son to carry on the legacy of my name."

I bow again to hide my annoyance. His name is all that is important. If my younger sister had been born a son, I would not be his heir. But he will not allow a female to succeed him and shortly after her birth he was rendered incapable of producing more children.

So I am his heir. I am the one who must produce his grandchildren.

Sometimes I feel as though I am as much breeding stock as the human females will be.

"I can assure you that every effort will be made to start reproduction as quickly as possible," I say. "Our people will be stronger through your efforts to make this alliance."

Buttering him up is the best way to soften the blow of what I will say next.

"The human women will be paired with their warriors and breeding will start when we are all ready for it. As Earth culture must be very different from our ways, I will give them time to adjust and a chance to ensure they do not regret agreeing to this trade before they are to breed."

Disapproval flashes across Father's face. Even without words, I know he thinks I am showing femininity in this decision. He blames the influence of my mother.

My mother. If she stood here now, she would speak her mind. As she always did. Her rebellious behavior remains a needle in Father's sole. Even all these years after her death.

A woman is meant to do as she is told. A woman's greatest joy is to please her man. A woman's body is designed for two things—to provide pleasure and to carry young. Her mind is not capable of making hard decisions. She is never happier than when a man makes these decisions for her.

These are the things my father believes. The things he tries to make me believe too.

My mother taught me otherwise. Women have as much intelligence as man, they are only denied the opportunity to use their intelligence.

Women's bodies are designed to receive pleasure as well as give it. As a wife has duties to her husband, so should a husband have duties to his wife.

Father has no reason to change his thinking. I know better. How are we to thrive when half of our dwindling population isn't permitted to contribute to our success?

"It is a great task," I continue before he has a chance to chastise me, "and we cannot have weak females breeding with our men. Any woman who cannot adjust to our customs will make a poor mother for future generations."

Father visibly relaxes. "So she will be. But do not take too long weeding out the weak, Draek. The Ghengors' violence is increasing. We need more sons born to us. Otherwise we will cease to exist in a single generation."

The communications cut out. I clench my hands, breathing deeply to calm myself. I always find myself in this state after talking with my father.

If he had another son and heir, I would be more than happy never to see his face again.

A soft knock comes on the door between my chambers and Eildan's. I call for her to enter.

She slips in, chewing her lip. She has changed her clothing into a modest dress that covers her from collarbone to ankle. Another sign of her status. Only women forced to work for their own support wear trousers.

"How much did you hear?" I ask her.

"I didn't hear anything."

I doubt that. How else would she know the exact moment to come back in? "Are you looking forward to meeting my breeding mate, Eildan?"

"Of course. I am excited for your children to be born." She blushes and ducks her head before peeking up at me through the corners of her eyes. She looks so meek and bashful, as though this is her first time meeting me.

"But are you excited to meet my breeding mate?"

"I just said—"

"You were excited to meet my children. What about their mother?" I ask impatiently. Why can't she just give me a yes or no?

Eildan twists her midnight-blue hair between her fingers. "I am eager for our nurseries to be filled."

"Does it not bother you that I'll be bedding another woman?" I press.

"Why would it bother me?" she answers demurely. "My duty is to serve, my lord. I am eager for your children to be born and to help you raise them to be strong sons and gentle daughters."

"That is not an answer."

Eildan's shoulders start to hunch inward. "I wish for you to be happy. Won't your breeding mate make you happy?"

I do not answer. She is saying the same things she has been saying from the start of this. It does not tell me how she feels about this situation.

"My lord," Eildan purrs as she slides closer, "you are so tense. Let me help you to relax."

She does not mean a massage this time. She lays on my bed, her knees bent. Her skirt falls to her waist, revealing she wears nothing beneath.

"I am pleased with you, Eildan," I tell her as I tug my belt loose. "I enjoy when you are bold with me."

I take myself in hand as she makes herself comfortable.

What will my breeding mate be like? Will she be bold like this? Will she be as easily pleased as Eildan?

I reach out, touching my queen-to-be, finding the small nub of nerves that will give her pleasure. Her eyes close in pleasure. Back arching. The curled hair at her sex is rough beneath my palm.

Am I being a fool when I tell myself neither Eildan nor my breeding mate will be jealous? Will she enjoy sex as much as Eildan? Will they expect me to bed them both at once?

Eildan becomes slick as I become hard. I set aside thoughts, welcoming the distraction that pleasure brings to us both. As I move my hand from myself to her dress, unfastening her bodice, I find myself staring at her closed eyes.

"I wish for you to come with me to collect the human females."

Her eyes open, her body stiffening. "My lord...you said you wish for me to look after the city."

"I did," I agree, nudging her knees open as I continue to work her. "I more so desire for your input in my breeding mate. You know women better than I. You will best know who will make a good mate."

Eildan rests her head on the pillow and closes her eyes once more. She lifts her hips for me, and I hold her rump as I position myself.

"I am pleased to know you have such high esteem for my abilities," she says.

I accept that as enough.

As I enter her, my mind turns once more to my breeding mate.

Will I even like her?