B Cubed #3 Borg (3 page)

Her eyes slid to Lewin who was watching her
carefully. Maybe Dayen of the Bred and Borg alliances would be like him. Kind,
reassuring, considerate. A man like that wouldn’t be too dreadful. Maybe he’d
be patient and wait for her to be ready to share her body with him.

She snorted. And maybe the earth would start
spinning again of its own volition.

The tunneler slowed to a stop. Her teeth sank
into her lower lip and she waited and tried valiantly to steady her nerves. Da
had taught her that it was best to bulldoze through unpleasant tasks, to get
past them as quickly as possible. Endure what could not be overcome and move on
to the next phase of her life.

The Bred guards exited first, followed by Uncle
Rand, who didn’t spare her a glance. Uncaring if she got dog hair all over the
precious dress, Sage scooped Lily up and held her close. Her furry companion
shook, probably sensing her mistress’s anxiety.

Just have to endure it. Then move on to the next
phase.

The being a Borg whore phase.

Fuck it.
Sage lost her battle with her tears and sobbed
into Lily’s soft fur, hating herself for being completely helpless and more
scared then she’d ever been.  She wasn’t strong enough to see what awaited her
outside.

Perhaps they’ll forget about me.

Even as she thought it though, she knew her
uncle wouldn’t forget. But too damn bad. If Dayen wanted her—and his absence
from both the summit and the retrieval party suggested he didn’t—he’d have to
come in and drag her out by her hair.

Before she could think it through, she lunged
for the now empty cockpit and punched in the sequence the way she’d seen the
pilot do. The shocked expressions on the men’s faces were almost comical as the
doors sealed shut. But it was the cold fury on Rand’s features that made her
heart speed up. Deep down, Sage knew that if she opened the doors now he’d
throttle her for embarrassing him that way, wedding and treaty be damned

Oh, mercy what have I done?

Chapter Two

Under normal circumstances, Dayen avoided
crowds. More people meant more minds churning and buzzing with unrestrained
thoughts.  The press of too many images was like a riptide that would grab hold
and do its damndest to mentally drown him.

These circumstances were far from normal.

His bride-to-be had locked herself inside a
tunneler and refused to come out.  He kept expecting to hear the whirr of the engine
and see the spiral tip aim for freedom. Could she simply have cold feet?
Somehow he didn’t think so. What had frightened her so?

A crowd had gathered around the tunneler, but
moved aside as he approached. His enhanced vision recognized the man pounding
on the door as the leader of the Born colony and his mate’s uncle, Rand. The
man’s face was contorted with rage as he pummeled the immobile vehicle.

“Open this door, immediately or I swear you will
regret this.” Instead of shouting, Rand spoke quietly but there was no
mistaking the edge of menace in his voice. Dayen caught a glimpse of the man’s
thoughts and the beast inside him roared to the fore to protect his mate from
any man who meant her harm.

He lunged forward, unsure of what he intended,
but his father got there first. With a hand on the Born’s shoulder his father
spoke quietly, though Dayen could still hear, even over the murmuring crowd.

“She’s obviously frightened. I suggest we give
her time to work this out.” Cormack caught his eye and indicated he could
handle the Born leader.  The beast wanted blood, but Dayen wrestled it for
control. He’d ruin the treaty and possibly doom them all if he gave in to his
rabid fury.

“She agreed to this,” Rand seethed. “Agreed to
abide by the terms.”

“I’m sure she will. It’s just a case of the
jitters. Come, let’s look over the contracts and give her a little room to
breathe.”

The bastard clearly wanted to argue but he
didn’t. Dayen picked up on the thoughts that flashed through his mind, the
options Rand considered and discarded. He also discovered the man’s distaste
for the factions other than the Born. His prejudice was sour, but not half as
awful as the punishments he planned for Sage.

Dayen clenched his fists, his control fraying.
He’ll
never get the chance.

Allora arrived and banished the crowd with a
haughty look and a loudly uttered “Don’t you all have work to be about?” For
once, his mother’s overwhelming personality was a relief instead of a barb. She
cleared obstacles from his path. Dayen’s gaze returned to the tunneler where
his woman was held up.

Mine,
the beast snarled. It wanted to tear the vehicle
apart to retrieve her but Dayen convinced it to let him try first. She was safe
enough and apparently not intending to flee. He reached forwarded to lay a hand
against the smooth metal door that separated them. She was so close, almost
his.

But what would he do with her? The beast craved
her body, his cock ached for her, but if they touched, her thoughts would
invade his mind to a deafening degree. What sort of man couldn’t make love to
his woman?

A broken one.

Without the distraction of the crowd, her
thoughts were already tumbling around in his head.  Not electric like his
mother’s, less volatile but more ethereal and intangible.  She thought in
images as well as words. Through her mind’s eye he saw a dog in her arms,
longing for her father, felt the fear of her uncle. The man had beaten her
before, for some offense she didn’t recall.

And she was afraid of Dayen.  He was the reason
she’d locked herself in the tunneler, had braved her uncle’s wrath and her
people’s demise. She’d rather face the consequences of her brash actions than
him.

Her pure terror of him stung, the cyborg she was
promised to but hadn’t met. She had as many questions as he, all jumbled up in
the unrefined way of a person on the verge of panic. Would he be kind to her,
or was she in store for more abuse? She worried that he would force intimacy on
her.  Dayen laid his head against the door. She was there,
right
there
and she dreaded meeting him.

The few glimpses of her he’d caught from a
distance hadn’t been enough. He wanted to strip her down to her skin and study
every inch of her at his leisure. Staying away from her had been a new kind of
torture but he knew his possessive inner nature would have ruined the
negotiations.  And she feared intimacy with him, sex with him. Her mind flashed
to the terrifying images he’d dreamt and he wanted to roar in agony. She’d been
raped. Some male had hurt his mate.

Some soon to be dead male.

He’d almost decided to give over to the mindless
beast, to let it seek vengeance, when her voice called through the door.

“Is anyone there?”

He closed his eyes and swayed a bit. If her
thoughts had been chaotic her words were a soft flowing river of warmth,
bathing him in a golden light.

“Me,” he replied, so that he could hear her
again.

A pause and he sensed her moving closer to the
door. “Who are you?”

If he told her his name, she’d know who he was
and she was so on edge that her fear would unleash the beast. That would be the
worst outcome because the monster wanted to destroy any who threatened its
mate. It didn’t understand that she feared him, that she needed to be reassured.
Control was what was called for, not bloodshed. So instead of identifying
himself he called out.  “A friend.”

“Is my uncle still out there?” There was a
tremor in her voice as she asked.

“No one is out here but me, sweet. Are you all
right? Can I bring you anything?”

“I’m fine.” It was a lie, she was anything but
fine. He knew her dress, the one the Born bastard had insisted she wear chafed,
that she was cold and hungry and frightened. And worried over her dog, of all
things. She knew her uncle wouldn’t hurt her in front of the other factions,
but she feared he’d take his wrath out on Lily. Dayen wouldn’t let that happen,
but had no way to reassure her without revealing himself.

He regretted agreeing to the marriage clause
without consideration for what she would think. Though he had no way of knowing
she’d be coerced into it at the time. He’d simply been relieved that he would
get to make such a public claim on her.

Dayen remembered the first moment he’d
recognized her as his. He’d been spying above ground with Aunt Cass, gathering
information for the upcoming summit.  Sage had grabbed his attention the minute
he’d seen her working in the small garden. He’d felt her first, her thoughts
calm and tranquil, so different from her current scattered upheaval. Her hands
were dirty, and her dark hair shone under the artificial lights that nourished
the Born’s meager crops. A decade before, Bred minions would’ve toiled to
provide for the Born, but their emancipation meant the Born had to work for
themselves. The labor was hard, but she didn’t mind, enjoyed the solitude.

She’d stood from her work and placed hands at
the small of her back, stretching sore muscles and inadvertently displaying her
lush figure.

Mine.
It had been the first time the beast had spoken.
The first moment Dayen recognized something primal lived within him. Before,
he’d always blamed his temper on his telepathy. The constant deluge of other
people’s thoughts that invaded his skull would have anyone on edge. But looking
at Sage, he’d recognized her for what she was—the beast’s mate.

He would have gone to her then, but Cass had
grabbed his arm and whispered, “Bide your time. She will be yours soon enough.”

“I want her,” he growled low.

“And how will you bind her to you if you can’t
touch her?” Cass asked. “You must learn some control over your abilities first.
For both your sakes.”

Shame made him hold his ground. “What if she
chooses another?”

Cass had held his gaze. “If she is yours, she
will always come to you. If not, you have no way to keep her.”

Regret ate at him as he pulled his awareness
back to the present. Damn Cass’s interference! If he’d taken Sage then she
wouldn’t have been hurt, wouldn’t be so afraid that she locked herself in a
tunneler to postpone their union.

He heard movement inside the tunneler, heard her
coming closer.  His patience was paying off because her wariness abated. He
sensed her reach her hand to the door, placed it against the cool, smooth metal
directly opposite his.

“What do you want?” She asked softly.

Only you, luscious.

But she didn’t want him, didn’t want any man.
All she wanted was her freedom. He could relate, the mantle of destiny lay
heavy on his shoulders. He’d been born and bred and raised as a cyborg to be
humanity’s savior. But he was a freak who couldn’t bear touch, not even hers.

Would knowing that he couldn’t consummate their
mating soothe her? Whether it would or not, it wasn’t a secret he was ready to
share. His mother and Cass had fought to hide his disability from the cyborgs and
he didn’t know if he could trust Sage yet.

A cornered animal was a dangerous one.

So instead, he lied. “I need the tunneler.”

Panic flared in her thoughts but not in her
reluctant voice. “Oh. I suppose I need to let you in then, if you have
something to do.”

“You could come with me,” he offered. Maybe
getting away from the crowd, the pressure of their destinies and the weight of
expectations that others heaped on them would ease them both.

“I can’t. I mean I’m supposed to get
married…er…mated today. My uncle will be furious if I leave.”

“I’ll handle him.” Dayen couldn’t keep the snarl
from his voice.

“My fiancée—” she stopped. “This is stupid, I
can’t hide in here forever.”

He heard the thought she didn’t voice.
No
matter how much I want to.

“I promise you, you will meet all your
obligations. Just a quick trip and we’ll return here in time for your mating.”
Hopefully, with a less reluctant bride.

He sensed her decision a second before the door
slid open. Dayen’s eyes went wide as he beheld her closer than he ever had.

Long, dark hair fell nearly to her waist in a
river of night. Big blue eyes full of caution and curiosity.  Pale skin with a
light dusting of freckles across her upturned nose and sweet full pink lips he
longed to taste. The fluffy gown she loathed clung to her generous curves and
Dayen longed to tear it from her body so he could see every bit of her.

            Utterly
lovely. Completely terrified.

            Mine.

Her scent was fresh and clean, unlike anything
he’d ever known. It reminded him of green and growing things, like in her
hothouse garden. Her little dog circled around her ankles staring at him with
the same wariness exhibited by her mistress.

Belatedly, he realized he held a hand out to
him. “My name is Sage.”

He knew, oh how he knew. And yet, he couldn’t
reveal his identity now, nor could he touch her.  He only hoped she’d
eventually forgive him for his lies.

“Mine’s Berrick. Pleased to meet you.”

****

            Sage
stepped back into the tunneler so Berrick wouldn’t crowd her. His massive form
filled the small space until she could barely breathe. She wasn’t exactly
petite but he was too tall to stand upright in the tunneler without bashing his
head. Broad shoulders filled the small space but it was his domineering
presence that really spread out so no place was safe.

            His
face was too rugged to be truly handsome and his dark hair was longish but
jagged on the ends, cut haphazardly, like he’d done it himself with a
switchblade when it had grown too long to be ignored.  His eyes were his most electric
feature, a deep green like healthy plant leaves.  She could glean nothing from
his reserved expression, not intent or emotion of any kind. She saw no sign of
technology about his person, so he must be another former Bred slave. He didn’t
take her proffered hand and after an awkward moment, she let it drop.

            Which
was more foolish, locking herself in the tunneler or agreeing to accompany such
a large man to wherever he was going? Danger clung to him along with innate
sensuality. She didn’t think she’d ever noticed the play of a man’s muscles
before, but even the slightest shift made her keenly aware that he was male. He
was bigger than any man she’d seen before, bigger than her uncle or the Bred
escort, even bigger than the ones who’d…

            She
derailed that thought before it dragged her down.

            “I
won’t hurt you.” Berrick’s green eyes had a ring of gold around them that
seemed to expand as he spoke. Without the door between them, his deep, husky
voice stroked over her like a caress.

            She
figured he was reading her wimpy body language, just like her Bred escort had.
Sick of cowering, Sage forced her shoulders back and lifted her chin. “I never
thought you would.”