Miranda bit her plump lower lip. “No. That’s ridiculous. That was the point.”
He took a step toward her and partially blocked her from my view. Damn him. “Mate. I feel you, remember that. I feel your need for him. I also feel the hurt. It’s the pain I’ve sensed all along.”
She craned her neck to look at me, nodded.
“I will kill him.”
He might be bigger, but that was not happening.
“Trist, no. I don’t want him dead.”
“What do you want?” he asked.
“She wants me to adorn her, to give her nipple rings and my medallion to mark her as mine.”
Miranda gasped. Trist—that was the fucker’s name—growled.
“She is mine, doctor. Take one step closer to her, assert your claim one more time, and I will kill you.”
“That would hurt her, Captain. She loves me. She’s mine.”
Trist turned on his heel, facing me. I expected rage. Passion. A lust to kill. Instead I was met with cold, calculating precision. Ice. He was fucking ice. Unbreakable. Unbendable. Solid.
Miranda glided to his side and slipped her hand in his, whether for her own comfort or to prevent the Prillon from carrying out his threat to end my life, I wasn’t sure. But there was no doubt now, she was his. It was in the way she leaned into him, obeyed his commands, the way she looked at him, touched him.
Fark. A change in strategy was in order…
10
Miranda
* * *
I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. The room, if that’s what it could be called after these two had destroyed it, looked like a dumping ground for broken things. The table was smashed, the sofa torn in multiple places. Anything fragile or breakable was in pieces on the floor and both of the males I cared about were bleeding from cuts and scrapes all over their faces, arms and fists.
No doubt, they were hurting and bruised on the inside as well.
Idiots.
I held Trist’s hand and leaned into him as the tension faded from the room. This was something I had never imagined happening. Not in a million, billion years. Never. I loved them both. Which sucked, because I could only keep one of them, and with Trist’s hand in mine, I knew who I would choose if I had to. His devotion to me, his care, his strength of will is what I needed more than I needed hot sex, nipple clamps and leather straps tying me to the table as Brax fucked me.
Both would be nice. I wasn’t one to lie to myself. But that didn’t look like it was going to be in the cards for me. And I would be okay with that. I had to be.
“What the hell do you two think you are doing?” I put my hands on my hips, felt the silken softness of the dark green gown beneath my palms. Trist had placed me in this gown earlier this morning. He’d taken his time, washing every inch of me in their strange shower tube, then ordered the dress from the odd black square S-Gen machine in the corner of our bedroom. Everything was different on a battleship. Smaller, more compact, except for the Prillon’s themselves. Then everything was bigger, including the size of the room itself. Our bedroom. Our bed. Something I’d never had with Brax, something I had needed to fill the empty ache inside me. Not the bedroom, duh, but the long-term sharing.
I’d come here, to these guest quarters Brax had been assigned, to explain that to him. I wasn’t going back to Trion with him. I still loved him. I couldn’t help it. I’d given him my body without reservation and come to respect him as not just a lover, but as an honorable male. He was a doctor and a warrior, but I wasn’t ever going to come first with him. I’d made peace with that. Even gotten tested, matched and transported halfway across the galaxy.
The care Trist had shown me since my arrival had gone a long way toward healing the wound Brax had left behind. The gown was soft and every bit as beautiful as anything I would have worn on Trion. I felt like a sex goddess for the first time ever. And it was because of Trist. I was familiar with the S-Gen technology. They had S-Gen on Trion as well, but I’d only ever used the one in the kitchens, and they were smaller, not designed for full body scans. Trist had pointed out that the color of the dress matched his collar, a small detail I had already noticed. In his own way, he was adorning me as a Trion would, marking me as his in front of the others, and I loved it. Loved that he was broadcasting his dedication and connection to me.
Unlike the sober-faced fool from Trion who was spitting blood and wobbling as he attempted to remain standing. He must have been hurt more than I thought because he had to shake his head a few times before he pulled himself to together.
Trist, however, seemed to get an extra surge of wrath. He had moved almost instantly, blocking my view of Brax completely. I had no doubt that Brax wasn’t going to get near me unless Trist allowed it. He was protecting me and even though I still had feelings for Brax, that one move, and the fierceness and protective rage I felt through the collar, gave me the confidence I needed to walk to Trist’s side and stare down at the male who had broken my heart. Trist was mine now. I still cared for Brax, but Trist had stolen an equal share of my heart, and I wasn’t going to give that up. He was mine. Brax would have to deal. He’d had his chance.
“Do not even think about getting near my mate, Trion, or you will need someone to carry you to a ReGen pod.”
“She’s mine, Prillon. She had no right to sign up for the Brides Program. She shouldn’t even be here.”
Trist tensed at Brax’s words, and I felt the need to attack burning through him. I didn’t belong to Brax, but I didn’t want him to get hurt either. I placed my hand on Trist’s arm and held him still with that one small touch. He was so sensitive to my mood, my needs, that he quieted instantly and looked down at me.