Chapter Ten

"Your whole family was in the military? Including your mother?"

Erybet grinned as he escorted Conyod from the sim arena, where squads in basic training could fight holographic enemies in a myriad of simulated settings. "She was a specialist who tracked enemy movements remotely and kept battalions informed."

"She never saw battle then."

"No, but she was combat trained. Back when she enlisted, there were only two squads of Mataras in the ground forces. The military kept them from actual fighting, of course, but they went through boot camp the same as the men."

"I bet there aren't females now in any capacity."

"They're so few, and they're too precious to chance no matter how safe we feel we can keep them." He felt a twinge of sorrow for his mother and her career, cut off too soon. "The ground forces forcibly retired the last of them twenty years ago…my mother dressed her high commander down for it in no uncertain terms, but it was out of his hands."

It was on the tip of Erybet's tongue to invite Conyod to meet his parents, but he knew it was early for such a move. Especially if Sletran came along, which the Dramok suspected Conyod would want.

Erybet had experienced his share of infatuations. He knew how intense obsession with a new lover could be. Wasn't it the case now for him where the handsome Imdiko was concerned? Though he could see it developing into more as they spent time together.

He'd grabbed the opportunity to get Conyod alone when Sletran had to report for battleground drills in the field. Conyod had been agreeable to the tour, especially where the base's mental health facility was concerned. It was where Erybet was leading him.

Erybet was almost certain he could build on the interest he had in Conyod. He was older and had no expectations of perfection when it came to a potential clanmate. Attraction, respect, and the nameless something that felt better than right when one enjoyed the company of another…he felt those were the ingredients capable of building a lasting relationship and ensure love. Unlike infatuation, the hungry feeling in a man's heart that often burned out after a few months.

He had the desperate gnawing sensation for Conyod, but beneath the dizzying fascination were the important pieces, the real foundation for a long-term bond.

Conyod was smart but young. He'd admitted Sletran was his first important relationship. Erybet figured the Imdiko's infatuation for the Nobek hadn't established the building blocks necessary for an enduring connection. Conyod had spoken of Sletran as his hero…certainly an overblown description reality would eventually tarnish. Sletran was a fine officer and a decent man…but Conyod's adoration had the markings of a mere head-over-heels crush. Erybet couldn't take it seriously.

"Here we are," he smiled at the Imdiko whom he increasingly hoped to entice to a real love affair. He escorted him into the state-of-the-art mental health facility Sletran had neglected to show Conyod on his previous visits.

Conyod couldn't help but be impressed by the tour Erybet took him on. The base was more than a mere physical training facility for soldiers, which had been his impression beforehand. During past visits, Sletran had taken him to the safe locations where he drilled his soldiers, his office, and the mess hall, so those areas were familiar to Conyod. As were his quarters, where they tended to rush as soon as possible when Sletran's duties were finished for the day. They saw too little of each other in the flesh. Lovemaking was usually their focus when they could manage it, as well as the intimate talks in sex's sweet aftermath.

Erybet showed him areas he'd had little care for in Sletran's company. He was amazed by the technological side of battleground warfare, by the intellectual training that was just as vigorous as the physical preparation, by the support facilities without which successful combat and care for the troops couldn't be achieved.

He was dazzled by Erybet. The man's beauty was matched by his careful attention to Conyod and how easy the Imdiko found him to talk to. There was a sense of respect from the group commander. He never talked down to Conyod's ignorance of how the ground forces performed their duty to the empire. He spoke to him as an equal, though there was a sense of him assuming casual control…similar to Tuher's easy Dramok command of his ranch and clan.

Conyod had been wrapped up in Sletran for so long, he hadn't considered any Dramok for a romantic partner until recently. Erybet, who'd interested him from the start, was making major inroads to challenge his past lack of noticing the leader breed.

"How often do you get called to actually fight?" he asked when they stopped for a snack in a small shop on the site.

"In the last decade, about once every couple of years. Bi'is and Asicar have been fairly quiet as of late, so our battalions cycle through the bases on the border with them every six months…my group isn't due for its turn for a couple of years if our enemies don't start serous shit."

"The Tragooms?"

"Only when we discover they've entrenched themselves on a planet or moon near the empire or Plasius or Joshada. If the fleet can't simply blast their ships and call it done, we go in and remind the bastards where they belong…in pieces."

"It sounds like it doesn't come up much."

"The flyboys are pretty good about keeping tabs on where the Tragoom chieftains are cruising. The last time I was called to fight them, I was still just a squad leader. It was a couple years ago."

Conyod thought. He recalled Sletran had been off-planet around that time for a four-week stretch, though the Nobek hadn't said why. He must have been part of the force Erybet was discussing.

"It's a good thing you don't have clanmates stuck on Kalquor while you maintain the empire's safety for the rest of us. They'd be worried sick while you're gone." The idea of Sletran having to fight murderous enemies while Conyod waited and wondered if he'd return home brought him pause. The idea of falling for a second clanmate in the military and agonizing over him too…

"I'd stay in touch as much as possible to keep my clanmate left at home at ease." Erybet's fingertips briefly touched Conyod's arm as it rested on the low table they sat at. "Sometimes there are top secret missions, and we have to hide our whereabouts, even from clanmates. Fortunately, it doesn't happen often. Almost never, in fact."

"Good." Conyod smiled. "Otherwise, the wonderful mental health facility you showed me would have to take on the civilian clanmates losing their shit."

"Any soldier who has a clanmate who cares so much is a lucky man, and I envy him."

Erybet's gaze on him was intense. Conyod wondered if his statement was in general…or if he were speaking of how he'd feel if he were Conyod's Dramok.

Chapter Ten

"Where are you?" Sletran asked.

As if he didn't know where Conyod had gone…or at least, whom he'd gone with. Squad leaders Decta and Redop had strolled up to him between troop exercises to tease earlier that day.

"Nice bait you've set to catch yourself a Dramok," Decta had smirked, though there'd been a gleam of envy in his eye.

"Hitching yourself to a group commander is certainly a good move where rising in rank is concerned," Redop agreed. "Your Imdiko friend has excellent points beyond the obvious."

Sletran had immediately realized Conyod had been seen on the grounds in Erybet's company. Though a spark of pleasure flashed at the information, he leveled a glare at Redop. "Do you doubt I'd deserve any promotion I may receive?"

Redop met his challenging stare with one of his own before bursting into laughter and slapping Sletran on the back. "Don't get your hackles up, old friend. Anyone who has eyes realizes the soldier you are. No one can doubt you earn your bars."

"Although there'll be jealous bastards if you and the group commander become a genuine item," Decta had said. "It'll be fun watching you shut their mouths."

"Maybe a certain Nobek group commander's too. Word is Tox is trying to pick up where he and Erybet left off last time.

"Tox, huh?" Sletran was vaguely aware there'd been rumors of a past encounter between the pair. It hadn't sounded very serious.

"They've been off and on the past couple of years. If Erybet's returning his current interest, I haven't seen it. He's too wrapped up in your boyfriend."

Sletran had silently agreed with Decta's assessment. He doubted Tox was anywhere on Erybet's radar while Conyod was an option.

Now he stood in his quarters, where he hadn't found the Imdiko at the end of his shift. Conyod had picked up the instant he'd buzzed his com.

"I'm in Erybet's office. He says hurry here so we can figure out where to have dinner."

Dinner in the company of the Dramok again. Sletran wondered if Erybet was serious about pursuing possible clanship. He experienced a slight twinge of conscience since his main interest in his superior officer was the hope of forming a clan and making Conyod his for life.

I like Erybet, though. I don't doubt it has the chance to go beyond mere liking.

"I'll be right there. Give me a few minutes to shower," he said, hope lifting his already high spirits.

* * * *

Conyod caught himself laughing too hard at something Sletran had said. Diners at nearby tables glance at him. He quieted, his face heating.

I've had too much to drink. Judging from the amused glances from his dinner partners, they'd noticed.

At least they were in a more casual restaurant than the one they'd gone to the night before. There were a large number of soldiers present, still in their uniforms. Most crowded the bar in the middle of the establishment, but half the tables were taken by those who'd obviously come from the nearby base.

"Sorry," he mumbled. "I'm done where bohut's concerned, I guess."

"You're fine. I fully endorse you enjoying yourself." Erybet patted his back. The Dramok hadn't been shy when it came to touching him during the meal, whether brushing Conyod's hand, squeezing his shoulder, or patting his back.

Conyod hadn't minded in the slightest, especially since Sletran seemed to view the attention as a challenge to make frequent contact as well. The Nobek visibly brightened when Erybet occasionally gripped the Nobek's shoulder as they chuckled at some shared battle experience.

We make a good trio.Conyod hoped it was a valid observation rather than booze asserting its filmy filters on their camaraderie.

Imposing good sense on his tipsy state, he said, "I return to work tomorrow. The last thing I need is the sort of hangover stim tabs and pain inhibitor can't cure."

"You haven't had that much," Sletran said. "You're safe with me, so no worries you'll end up where you shouldn't. Besides, you have the cutest giggle when you're drunk."

"I don't giggle!"

"I heard a giggle last night at dinner. At least two tonight. It is cute," Erybet snickered. "Hey, Sletran, he isn't ticklish by any chance, is he?"

"His feet and behind his knees. Endless giggling. He sounds like a Plasian girl when he gets going."

"You're jerks." Conyod pushed his half-full glass away. He was definitely done drinking.

"Aw, Conyod. Don't be grumpy and force me to tickle you." Erybet leaned close and nuzzled his ear.

"You'd hate to be tickled in front of everyone here." Sletran's arm curled around his waist as he too leaned against the Imdiko.

"Don't make me tell you to take me home. We haven't had dessert, and this poor underfed doctor who hasn't quite completed his internship needs to take full advantage of the group commander paying for his dinner."

"Oh, you're angling for dessert by taking advantage of me?" Erybet's innuendo couldn't have been more obvious if had been a public advertisement.

"I want dessert, then I want to take advantage of you both. If you're up for it." He could be as bold as them when it came to flirting. But he also lusted for the rich and spongy cake covered in glazed fruit he'd seen someone at the next table eat.

"I think you know me well enough to not need an answer," Sletran snorted. He hesitated as he gazed at the man on Conyod's opposite side. "What about you, Dramok?"

Erybet grinned, his lovely features taking a turn for the gorgeous. "Let's order dessert quickly before he changes his mind."

* * * *

Conyod was grateful he'd stopped drinking when he had. The bohut blur in his brain was starting to ebb when Erybet ushered him and Sletran into his quarters on the base. He was able to walk in a straight line, and he hadn't subsided to laughter again…certainly not giggles…since the teasing at the restaurant. His speech slurred only occasionally, so that was all right.

He wasn't sure if the warmth in his gut was from the booze or looking forward to the coming night. Erybet had been added to the mix, an enthralling development. Conyod kept checking on Sletran, concerned his lover might not be on the same page when it came to making their recent pairing a threesome so soon. He was relieved again and again when he found the Nobek's expression intent, a sure sign he was excited. The spicy musk scent he'd detected as they'd walked from town to the base was reassuring. Sletran was eager to bring Erybet in.

Conyod blinked as the lights to Erybet's quarters came up, their illumination bright after half an hour under the stars. It took a second for his sight to adjust.

"Living on the base means little in the way of luxurious homes," Erybet said. "Don't walk into the furniture."

"Bigger than a squad leader's rooms," Sletran noted. He openly ogled the vid and audio equipment set up in the common area. "Nice entertainment system."

"And seating." Conyod ran his palm on the back of the massive lounger taking up major footage in the apartment. He was no expert when it came to high-end furnishings, having grown up on a ranch where everything suffered frequent cleanings and rough use. Nonetheless, Erybet's belongings showed attention to detail in their construction, even to his untrained eye. "The décor looks straight out of a showroom."

"My tastes might be a bit extravagant," the Dramok chuckled. "Once I make it to company commander rank, I'll buy a home next to the beach…or at the top of a mountain, if I'm stationed elsewhere. Somewhere nice, anyway."

"Company commander," Sletran mused. "While I can appreciate the excitement of tactical planning and the perks of such a rank, it would probably be more paperwork than it's worth."

"It is a lot of documentation and the like," Erybet acknowledged. "I was a high commander's assistant after my first promotion, and you wouldn't believe how much time he and his staff had to spend on computers writing up reports. The other assistants, all Nobeks, were in a constant state of irritation."

Conyod half-listened. His feet had begun wandering of their own volition, touring him around the space that included a small but efficient kitchen filled with high-end appliances and an inviting dining nook. Erybet did have good taste.

"The sleeping room's behind you," the Dramok advised him.

Conyod turned toward the closed door opposite the entrance they'd come in through. "Here?" he said, inching close to it. "Is it as nice as the rest?"

"Nicer once you walk in."

"Smooth line," Conyod laughed. He stepped close enough to trigger the automatic door to open. Flashing a smirk at the grinning pair watching him, he went in.

Again, the furniture was grand for the small space it occupied. Erybet's sleeping mat, which stretched across the floor, was accompanied by only two small tables on either side of its padded headboard. The pillows were thick, billowy mounds. Conyod, who couldn't seem to stop touching everything, found the cover whisper soft. Perfect for wallowing on in the company of two gorgeous men.

A finger ran down his spine, electrifying him. He whirled to find Erybet had come up on him, as silent as Sletran had ever managed. "You should see how the linens feel when you're naked."

"Want to help?"

"I insist on it."

Even Sletran, who'd followed Erybet and stood behind him looking over his shoulder, stilled and directed his attention when the Dramok spoke in the commanding tone. Part of Conyod wondered if his beloved's breath had stopped briefly, as his had.

He couldn't imagine how anyone had ever made the mistake of categorizing Erybet as a Nobek. Unlike the primal ferocity of the warrior breed, his was a calculating assurance of utter domination.

Gazing intently at Conyod's face, Erybet pulled the collar of his shirt, parting its resealable seam down the front. He peeled it off the younger man's shoulders and arms and tossed it to the corner of the mat before lowering his stare to inspect the Imdiko's torso. Erybet's pupils widened, and he licked his lips.

"A lot of gorgeous man here. How do you manage to let him leave your bed, Sletran?"

"It isn't always easy, but sometimes I need the break. He has the libido typical of a male in his mid-twenties."

Erybet softly growled as he traced rough fingertips along the swells of Conyod's pectoral muscles. "Quick recovery, huh?"

"He could put teenage Nobeks to shame." Sletran chuckled and winked at Conyod. His expression was the merriest the bruiser could manage, but his eyes were as dark as Erybet's while he watched the Dramok touch Conyod.

"Good thing there are two of us to keep up with you, Imdiko."

Erybet suddenly kissed him. It was no tentative buss, but a passionate taking, reeling his senses. Conyod found his arms pinned to his sides by the Dramok's, his lips claimed in heady possession.

Not just his lips. Erybet's tongue took advantage of Conyod's startled gasp, plunging in his mouth. Again, it was far from a careful tasting. He was devoured with authority. It weakened his knees and brought desire surging to the fore.

Conyod had more muscle than his taller admirer, but no part of him had any intention of breaking free. He gripped Erybet's waist instead, having just enough freedom in the Dramok's grip to do so.

His thoughts broke apart under the demanding kiss. Only instinct prompted him to return it in kind, his tongue stroking its invading twin as it went on and on.

When Erybet finally ended it, leaving Conyod's lips feeling swollen, the Imdiko was grateful he was holding him so tightly. The room rocked unsteadily around them, and he was certain his drinking at dinner had no part of it. No, it was all the work of the beautiful man who gazed at him, desire filling his eyes.

"I've been dying to do that for weeks," Erybet said. "Damn if it wasn't as amazing as I'd hoped."

He let Conyod go and gave him a push. It wasn't a hard shove…rather gentle, in fact…but the Imdiko was so off-balance, he crashed to the mat behind him. He lay staring at the men looming at its foot.

Sletran continued to stand back. He seemed content to watch as the encounter unfolded, his tongue peeking out to wet his lips. Conyod didn't miss the tented crotch of his lover's pants. Sletran was enjoying the show.

I bet he won't lift a finger to stop Erybet from doing whatever he likes to me.The idea excited Conyod, though he knew if he demanded the Dramok cease, Sletran would support his wishes.

He couldn't imagine calling a halt to what was happening.

Erybet grabbed his leg and lifted it to pull Conyod's ankle boot off. Then he stripped him of the second shoe.

"Don't move." His tone froze Conyod to the spot. Erybet rubbed the Imdiko's inner thighs up and down, coming a hairsbreadth from touching the telltale swelling shouting Conyod's enthusiasm. "Stay right where you are. This is where I want you."

A fine trembling broke over Conyod, especially when Erybet seized him in another brain-melting kiss, still massaging his inner thighs. Thanks to the heady kiss, the strong hands rubbing so close where excitement lived took on greater importance. Conyod wadded the soft bed coverings in his fists so he wouldn't grab the other man. He fought against straining to win contact where he desired it most.

Erybet released his mouth but continued to kiss. He nipped Conyod's chin, then his lips moved softly on the Imdiko's throat. The contact grew hotter and wetter when Erybet's mouth opened, and Conyod detected the hardness of the other man's teeth, as if he readied to tear into his throat. Electric eagerness coursed through him.

Erybet moved lower, arrowing toward a dark nipple. Conyod waited for him to kiss, bite, or lick it in anxious anticipation, but it was the Dramok cupping his avid crotch that made him jerk in shock.

"Be still," Erybet growled. His palm worked Conyod's eagerness, making it impossible to obey despite the previously irresistible Dramok tone. Conyod kept his hands fisted on the linens, but his legs kicked, and his hips rose to greet the delicious contact.

"Is he usually so badly behaved?" Erybet glared at Sletran over his shoulder, as if the Nobek had been remiss in teaching his lover better.

"I warned you about those youthful hormones. Once his cocks get involved, discipline and self-control go out the window."

"I see. We'll teach him better. There's a drawer in the wall behind you. I'd appreciate you using the hovercuffs you'll find in it on his ankles."

Sletran did so, setting them to respond to his and Erybet's commands and physical prompts to move. Meanwhile, the Dramok's tongue tasted Conyod's nipples. His attention alternated between gentle and rough while he continued to apply friction to the Imdiko's groin. Conyod writhed despite his attempts to remain in place as he'd been commanded.

He'd managed to keep his hands from touching Erybet as he was desperate to. Nonetheless, once Sletran had his legs incapacitated, their host told the Nobek, "Would you mind pinning his wrists for me? I'd like to see him stretched helpless across the bed."

"I'd be delighted." Grinning hugely, Sletran quickly maneuvered Conyod so he lay with his arms extended over his head. Erybet positioned the Imdiko's legs so they splayed in a narrow vee.

"Freeze subject," the Dramok told the cuffs as he eyed his squirming prize. "Now I can enjoy him at my leisure rather than deal with his disobedience."

He lay between Conyod's legs. Conyod still wore his trousers, and Erybet mouthed his engorged crotch, wetting the fabric so it darkened. Conyod was equal parts titillated and deprived by the nearness of oral pleasuring he could only detect by the pressure. His legs fought to kick and went nowhere.

"So hard," Erybet mumbled against him, setting off vibrations that elicited a moan. "I bet I could get him off in his pants."

"Would be a waste," Sletran said. "He's a tasty one."

"I'll admit he smells delicious. Guess I'd better find out for myself."

Erybet pulled open Conyod's pants. The Imdiko's eager shafts fairly leapt from their prison, standing straight up barely an inch from his tormentor's nose. Erybet inhaled deeply as he eyed the engorged cocks.

"Nice. Definitely deserving of a lick or two." Which he proceeded to do to the smaller of the pair.

Conyod's head slammed to the bed as he groaned. The sizzle of pleasure the Dramok's tongue gave shot straight up his spine. Sletran chuckled.

Erybet grinned, his face hovering above Conyod's need. "Enjoy yourself, Sletran, while I do the same. Be warned I'm in no hurry."

"Understood." Sletran stretched beside his captive and kissed him as Erybet began tasting in earnest.

Conyod's uncontrollable wiggling grew stronger as the Dramok swallowed first his secondary, then his primary. He moved back and forth between the clamoring pair, his rough tongue applying toe-curling excitement. Meanwhile, Sletran's tongue plundered Conyod's mouth, as if they'd never kissed before and he was intent on discovering the intimacy. Every cell of Conyod's body was alight and growing more acute under the carnal assault.

The Imdiko was incredibly aware of his helplessness against the two men determined to devour him. It made every nuance of their lovemaking come into laser-sharp focus. He swore he could feel every bump of their tongues on him.

Erybet not only licked and swallowed, but he sucked hard when he slowly released Conyod. His lips were excruciatingly tight around his girths. The wet warmth and leisurely friction as he took his time bobbing over Conyod's groin uncoupled his brain. The Imdiko was unable to establish a clear thought beyond the repeated internal mantra of more, more, more, more.

Behind the desperate and silent plea, he heard something crackle. "I saw this in the drawer," Sletran said when he paused his voracious kissing. His gaze was directed over his shoulder in Erybet's direction. "If you don't mind me using it, I'll buy you another."

"Use it, enjoy it, and don't worry about a replacement," came the response before the Dramok's wicked mouth surrounded Conyod's primary.

More crackling, unimportant when the Dramok was sucking the sense from his mind. His tongue danced on Conyod's primary's slit, encouraging small eruptions of pre-cum. He groaned loudly, his mouth wide, his hips jerking…but not getting far, because Erybet pinned them.

When Conyod's jaw relaxed from his cry, he found it wedged open. "Your turn to taste," Sletran told him, his voice rumbling. He tossed aside the packaging of a mouth brace after letting Conyod see it.

Sletran's gaze was dark and lustful as he drew upward. He pinned Conyod's wrists as he straddled his chest and brought his cocks, released from the trousers he'd shoved down his hips, to his prisoner's mouth. He slid them on Conyod's parted lips, coating them in his wet excitement.

The trapped Imdiko was reminded of how vulnerable he was to the tough soldiers. He couldn't protest since his jaw was locked open by the brace that would allow Sletran to fuck his mouth. It brought a shiver of nervousness…and a jolt of pure exhilaration. No matter what, he was theirs to visit any shameless urges upon. They had control. He held none.

The fact it was Sletran and Erybet he was forced to surrender to made him dizzy from anticipation. It was a fantasy made real.

Sletran's hips rocked, feeding Conyod the tip of his primary as his smaller cock slid under the Imdiko's chin, forging a wet trail. A spicy bite of sweetness tickled his tongue. A bit of saltiness was added as pre-cum spurted. Under Sletran's intent gaze, it trickled to the back of his throat, forcing Conyod to swallow convulsively.

"That's it. Swallow what you're given, naughty Imdiko," the Nobek breathed. His hips dipped lower, invading.

Conyod's shattered attention was divided between the shaft inching along his tongue and the mouth pulling on his own cocks. He no longer merely trembled but quaked under the force of his growing lust. Erybet's attention was incredible, but he maintained a pace so Conyod's release was denied. Somehow intuiting how exciting the Imdiko found Sletran's decision to insist on an oral fuck, he'd eased his already leisurely fellating to a slower tempo.

They held Conyod in a tormented thrall, subjecting him to excruciating pleasure. His always impatient libido was forced to wait as they continued the deliberate rhythm. It tried to insist he could come, especially when Sletran paused, fully embedded so the Imdiko choked. Being mastered by the pair enhanced his eagerness, but Sletran always slid out when Conyod thought he might climax.

They kept at him until he was wailing between desperate coughs. His cocks, so carefully ministered to by Erybet for so long, ached in need. Then the Dramok did something so awful, Conyod truly fought the cuffs and Sletran's iron hold: he stopped sucking.

"Demanding young man. You'd think he was of my breed," Erybet chuckled. "He's helping me discover my more sadistic side."

"He has the tendency," Sletran agreed, quieting Conyod's cries by sliding in deep. Conyod gagged and writhed to no avail.

"You'll have to wait longer, Imdiko. My primary is begging for your ass. Do keep straining and fighting, however. It's exciting," Erybet told him.

Sletran slowly retreated, his jerking cock sliding along Conyod's tongue, coating it in pre-cum. The younger man was too busy catching his breath to resume his expressions of dismay.

Erybet shifted him, bringing his knees up so his ass lifted from the bed. Conyod's gaze was full of Sletran's lower torso and the length slowly emerging from his mouth. He felt hot prodding at his ass.

Erybet slid in, giving the Imdiko no chance to adjust. In his state of extreme arousal, the hurt of taking what was an incredibly thick shaft translated to a thunderous shock of rapture. Especially incredible was how it rubbed his prostate. Conyod squalled, and Sletran silenced him by filling his mouth too.

They stilled as he choked and swallowed and writhed. His sexes clamored, driven to the edge of ecstatic release.

Somehow over the pounding of his heart in his head, he heard Erybet's uncompromising command. "Do not come, Conyod."

He fought to scream, his throat clutching the cock in it. He urged his clamoring body to disobey, to relieve the hellish pressure driving him insane. Some other instinct recognized the order of the dominant personality, however. Brutal hunger notched down, easing from the point of no return.

He was damned near sobbing when Sletran drew outward, allowing him to breathe. He couldn't believe he'd gotten so close to orgasm, only to be denied.

"You'll learn control," Erybet encouraged, slowly rocking against him. The unhurried pace kept climax at bay, but barely. The Dramok's girth electrified Conyod as it massaged his cumspot.

"Even if it kills you," Sletran sighed, fucking the Imdiko's mouth at an identical speed. "Which it probably feels like it is."

"Teaching younglings to obey when they're topped has always been a weakness of mine. Especially the stubborn ones. Damn, his ass looks good taking my cock. If we'd established enough trust, I would have gotten vid footage of it. It's something to shoot for in the future."

The idea of Erybet recording himself fucking Conyod brought a jolt of nervous excitement. None of his sexual encounters had been put on vid.

Sletran's rhythm picked up slightly. "Never thought of doing that, and I love to watch people fuck."

"You should try it. What's fun is replaying a previous session and having your lover watch while you fuck him. Or teasing him during enforced orgasm denial and being made to see himself getting off. Drives him crazy. You've never heard such begging."

"You have a bit of sadist in you, don't you?" Sletran's tone was admiring.

"If I'm in the mood and my partner's agreeable…or very badly misbehaved. I think it comes from having to fight so often for my place among mean-ass Nobeks."

Conyod might have thought there was too much talking, especially when his body screamed for climax, but the subject matter was enthralling. Not to just him, but the pair fucking him. Their pace was quickening as they discussed the games Erybet enjoyed playing in the sleeping room.

A sudden grip on his primary made him wail. A rush of purest bliss shot down his spine. Erybet pumped once, then grasped the base of his larger cock tightly as a wave of rapture shot from his secondary. He was coming.

The practiced clasp had him at just the right place and strength to thwart the eruption. Climax was right there, but Erybet wouldn't allow it. Conyod shrieked around his mouthful of Sletran. The Nobek groaned.

"I won't last much longer if you keep doing that to him."

Erybet's answer was a snicker. "Go ahead. I want your mouth on him when he tries to come and I keep him from doing so."

Sletran's cock jolted a warning. "Shit. You are a sadist."

Conyod uttered a pleading sound and fought to break free. Breathing hard, Sletran's hips pumped, forcing him to be quiet. The Nobek yelped suddenly.

"Are you biting my ass, you monster?"

"Shut up and fuck. Fill his mouth with cum."

"Shit." Sletran's pace quickened.

Conyod had to concentrate on swallowing, or he'd have gagged. Thinking at any level was difficult as Erybet rutted his ass, sending delicious friction to his cumspot. The uncompromising grip on his primary kept the demanding climax at bay. Meanwhile, Sletran's rhythm was becoming erratic, and his moans announced he was on the verge of losing control. He muttered a mantra of "fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck." Every now and then, a "fuck" was louder than usual, and Conyod had the dim notion Erybet was biting him at those moments.

Then Sletran uttered a long groan. His primary jolted. In an instant, his spicy-salty-sweet passion flooded Conyod's mouth. The Imdiko felt he'd never stop swallowing the hot spend as Sletran shuddered against his face.

At last, the flood ended. Sighing, the Nobek slid free. He stroked Conyod's cheek, then removed the mouth brace.

The first strangled word from Conyod's lips was, "Please." He was in an agony of yearning, his groin aching from denied climax.

Erybet chose to ignore him. "Sletran, give him a good excuse to beg."

Sletran chuffed a short laugh. He moved to Conyod's side, where he could crouch and slide his mouth on him, still imprisoning his wrists in his powerful hands.

Conyod's hips jerked, but they kept him nearly motionless. Now he could see Erybet, gloriously nude, between his legs. His elegant, toned body loomed high over those he commanded, an uncompromising god. The beautiful tormentor grinned at Conyod, though tension in his jaw betrayed he was having to fight off his own release. His groin slapped the Imdiko's ass in a steady tattoo, filling him again and again.

"Please," Conyod croaked, surges of need rocketing through his entire body.

"You can do better than that."

In the end, he did. Sletran's mouth was hot, his tongue wicked, the pull of his sucking driving Conyod beyond sanity as Erybet fucked him harder with each passing second. Conyod's yells rebounded off the walls as he pleaded for mercy, all semblance of dignity and self-possession gone.

At last, Erybet spoke through gritted teeth. "I'm letting go, Sletran. I want to watch him come before I do."

The Nobek responded by sucking down Conyod to the Dramok's fist, which dammed him. When Erybet relaxed his grip, Sletran swallowed the entirety of the clamoring cock, his mouth and throat tight.

Conyod lost all sense of his companions and surroundings as lightning flashed and he exploded. Rapture descended on him in vicious quakes. Chaotic pleasure claimed him and swept him into a maelstrom of heaving bliss.

He heard his own breathless moans before he regained sight as the surges began to ease. Little by little, the view of Sletran bent to his crotch and Erybet framed by his thighs cleared.

Erybet was still fucking him, the feeling of his primary rubbing Conyod's cumspot extending the quieting pulses, but his eyelids were fluttering. His breath caught suddenly, and he stiffened, his rhythm stuttering. A jolt in Conyod's ass and a burst of warmth announced the Dramok's release. His head fell back. His face suffused in bliss, and Conyod thought he'd never seen anyone more beautiful.

Erybet swayed drunkenly after a stretch of nearly a minute. Sletran, who'd sat up and was stroking Conyod's trembling figure, chuckled and offered a steadying hand. Grinning, the Dramok shook his head. His hands rubbed Conyod's thighs as his attention zeroed in on him.

"That was amazing. You're amazing. Are you all right?"

Conyod discovered he could speak, though his voice had taken on a distinctive croak. "I'm incredible. How soon can we go again?"

"Shit." Erybet fell over in exaggerated horror as Sletran roared laughter.

* * * *

Conyod went to work at the hospital's mental health ward feeling energetic, courtesy of stim tabs and pain reliever. He greeted patients brightly, and his upbeat mood seemed to infect them and his fellow staff. Though he had moments during which he was distracted, no one minded in the environment of his happy presence.

The night of lovemaking put a glow on Conyod's surroundings. He knew it was too early to think about their future, but he felt a certainty anyway. He, Sletran, and Erybet been so good together. His feet barely touched the floor as he walked the corridors between appointments. He was tempted to com the pair throughout the day, but as a newer staff member, it would have been frowned upon. He let the anticipation build instead.

When he got home to his small apartment, he was a little let down to be alone. When he checked his personal com unit, he found both Nobek and Dramok had left him warm messages. "I can't wait to see you," Erybet had said. "Let me know as soon as you can come back."

"I couldn't wait until later to tell you last night was terrific," Sletran told him. "Com me at the usual time tonight. Erybet said he wasn't available, so I'll be waiting."

The com messages from his mother insisting he call as soon as possible, all seven of them, couldn't shake him from his bliss. He checked the time. Seeing he had an hour before he was due to talk to Sletran, he decided to deal with whatever she was so eager to tell him first.

"Finally!" Lafec said as her greeting. "Why did it take you so long to com me?"

"I was at work. I figured following the emergency leave, I'd better concentrate on my job rather than answering personal coms." He let humor color his tone, refusing to be drawn in whatever drama she was eager to share.

"It could have been an emergency."

"If so, it wouldn"t have been just you trying to get hold of me. Is Dresk okay?"

"Yes, and so am I and your fathers," she said significantly.

Conyod winced, a jab of guilt disturbing his mood. "Sorry. I didn't mean it to sound as if I were more interested in his welfare than yours…it's just he was the one who was recently sick."

She sighed. "He's doing well. Chasing the mares, as if he wasn't hanging on by a thread only days ago. Typical male beast."

"What else is going on?"

"The ghost."

A thread of disquiet wove in Conyod's gut. "It's back?"

"Someone's roaming the stables. Both Noref and Rata saw the boy in white the night you left."

"Vel says they're the most likely to get drunk once they knock off for the day."

"Then who's leaving bero sticks in the kestarsh stalls? We don't have any bero to feed them because we ran out earlier this week."

Conyod blinked. Plenty of the farms near Clan Tuher's ranch grew the root vegetable, but his parents didn't. His Imdiko father was in charge of supplies. "Maybe Sema bought it and didn't tell you?"

"He scheduled delivery for today. We had plenty of the other feed, but not bero until this afternoon." Her voice lowered. "Most of the leaves, which the kestarsh won't eat, were in Yemasel's stall."

"Huh."

"You know the kestarsh she resembles."

His discomfort increased because he did. "She looks like tons of other kestarsh. Her coloring is fairly typical."

"She's the same height and build as Ges. Yemasel sleeps in her old stall. Ges was his favorite. And he always snuck her extra bero."

"Did Noref and Rata get a good look—"

"Tuher, Conyod's on the com. Come say hello." Her voice was abruptly cheerful, letting him know she didn't want his Dramok father to learn she'd been talking about the strange visitation.

The men spoke briefly, and Tuher confirmed Dresk was behaving as if he'd never been sick a day in his life. Nothing else about the ghost boy was said.

Chapter Eleven

Sletran left Medical and decided to walk his report to Erybet's office rather than send it via com channels. He hadn't seen his commanding officer since the night they'd spent with Conyod. After the morning he'd had…and the morning was only half done…he needed a lift. He hoped visiting the man he increasingly hoped would become his and Conyod's third would provide much needed encouragement.

"Idiots," he muttered as he stalked toward the offices of the base's three dozen group commanders. Two of his advanced trainee soldiers had been sloppy on the explosives range, leading to an incident. No one had been killed, thank the ancestors and sheer dumb luck, but a full half dozen of the company would be spending the rest of the day in the infirmary receiving skin grafts. Including the pair of morons who'd fucked up. Sletran had every intention of putting them right back in their medi-beds when they were cleared by the doctors.

"Squad leader Sletran," Erybet's head assistant Arima greeted when he came in. "I heard you had some excitement."

"I thought it best to report in person," Sletran growled. "Is the group commander available?"

"Group Commander Tox is with him—oh, here he is." Arima jumped up to bow as Sletran did to the Nobek who exited Erybet's office when the door opened.

"At ease, gentlemen." Tox didn't pause to say anything else. He departed, a slight smile creasing his face.

He left a familiar scent in his wake. Sletran suddenly had the feeling his day had just gotten worse.

"I'll ask if Group Commander Erybet can speak to you now." Arima knocked on the frame of the still-open door and went into the office.

Erybet and I aren't clanned. Hell, we aren't even promised. I have no reason to care if he and another Nobek are intimate.

Nonetheless, Sletran's stomach churned. Had Erybet decided he wasn't interested in him and Conyod after all?

"The commander will see you, Squad Leader Sletran." Arima returned to his post.

Sletran entered. Erybet sat behind his desk. He stood briefly to return the required bow. "Hello, Squad Leader. I heard sirens for a medical emergency go off an hour ago. The initial report said it was one of your trainee squads, but you had it in hand."

"Yes, sir." Briefly, Sletran explained the incident. He tried to set aside the mingled scents of Erybet and Tox and the distinctive aroma of intimacy.

If Erybet was concerned he'd picked up on the recent activity in his office, he showed none of it. He was all business. "You've had that pair on report in the past, if I remember correctly."

"A year ago. They'd seemed to correct their shortcomings, but here we are again."

"I trust you won't go easy on them."

"I won't. If there's an additional incident, they'll face charges."

"Are they lost causes?"

Sletran shrugged. "I continue to have hope for Nobek Gavia. He's smart enough, and when motivated, a good soldier. Toli tends to bring out the worst in him, however. I'd like to move Toli down to the basic skills squad and learn if Gavia can do better apart from his influence."

"Approved. Send me the transfer paperwork, and I'll sign off on it. Your incident report?"

"You'll have it before the end of the day. I believed it best to give you the story in person, however."

"I appreciate it. Thank you, Squad Leader."

Erybet turned to his computer, signaling the end of the conversation. Sletran started to bow, then hesitated. He swallowed.

"Sir, on a personal note?"

Erybet's gaze slid to meet Sletran's. "Yes?"

"Are you no longer interested in Conyod and myself? You appear to have begun relations with Group Commander Tox."

"I'm unclanned, Sletran." The tone was forbidding. "I'm allowed to keep my options open."

"Indeed. However, Conyod has enjoyed your company a great deal. He's…he's enthusiastic."

"I'm glad to hear it. I'm not entertaining other Imdikos, nor do I intend to."

Sletran's heart plunged. Erybet was interested in Conyod, and Conyod only. He bowed stiffly. "I understand. I'll return to my duties now."

Erybet afforded him a curt nod and focused on his computer again. Sletran wheeled and exited the office, keeping his thoughts and disappointment at bay.

* * * *

"Erybet isn't there?" Conyod asked in surprise as he gazed at Sletran's vid-com image.

"I'm on my own and missing you more than a Nobek should say."

Sletran's grin was strained. He strove to be light, but Conyod noted the tension in his voice. "What's going on, my Nobek?"

Perhaps hearing him claim him as his clanmate was why Sletran's smile closed in on the real thing. "I hate to upset you over what might be nothing. But…well, Erybet is seeing another Nobek. He's still attracted to you. I don't think I'm quite what he's looking for, however."

"That's…that's ridiculous. How can anyone compare to you?" Conyod wasn't trying to console or compliment Sletran. He was sincere.

No Nobek was Sletran's equal. There had to be a mistake.

"I've learned Erybet and this other guy have a history. Until he clans a Nobek, he can enjoy as many others as he wishes. Besides, this other guy has higher rank than I—"

"Screw rank. He isn't you."

Sletran chuckled. His whole demeanor had lightened under Conyod's heated protest. "It could be Erybet hopes to introduce you to him."

Conyod snorted. "No thanks. As far as I'm concerned, you and I are a package deal. If he doesn't have the sense to want you, then I don't want him."

Except he did. His attachment to Erybet was growing strong. Nonetheless, he couldn't imagine life without Sletran after waiting so long for the Nobek to realize they could have a relationship. The idea of losing Erybet as a potential Dramok hurt…Mother of All, it hurt like hell…but he'd never give up Sletran.

An hour of talking to Sletran had kept the depressed feelings minimal, but they woke in full after their com ended. Conyod stared into space, his mind not registering anything in his small common room. All he saw was Sletran and Erybet sitting next to him in the restaurant, laughing and talking of the many experiences they had in common.

He'd thought the pair had hit it off. Given what Sletran had said later, when Erybet wasn't present, he was certain his Nobek love had believed it as well. Hadn't they three been in perfect sync when it came to physical relations? It sure as hell had felt so. How had Sletran fallen short?

He didn't.

Conyod blew a heavy breath and gazed at the com unit in his hand. Erybet had left a message earlier, telling Conyod he was looking forward to his next visit and to please contact him. "I need to hear your voice, even if you can't com until late," the Dramok had said, feeling filling his voice.

Do you? Or am I just being na?ve in thinking we had a chance for the whole deal?

There was only one way to find out. Conyod wasn't sure he wished to know for certain, but it was better to learn the truth now before he invested anymore in Erybet.

"The trouble is, I'm uninterested in casual relationships," he breathed to the room. "Maybe I'm in the minority when affairs of heart are involved. Maybe I am na?ve to dream the first Dramok I became attached to would be the man to love. As I did Sletran."

He wondered if it was something he should bring up to Dr. Hupsan. Was he a hopeless romantic or too grasping when it came to relationships?

He was sure of one thing: if Erybet rejected Sletran as a potential clanmate, it was the same as rejecting Conyod. There was no question in his mind where his Nobek was concerned.

"Com Erybet," he told the unit. "Vid access."

As if he'd been waiting, Erybet shimmered into view a mere second later. "There you are! I was wondering if you'd com tonight."

Conyod swallowed at the sight of the beautiful man who appeared so glad to speak to him. "Hey. I was talking to Sletran for a while."

The Dramok's expression failed to change. "Oh. Yeah, he had a tough day in the field. Did he tell you about the morons who tried to blow up their squad?"

"He had a few choice words."

"I imagine he did. I do too, but there's no hope for a perfect trainee squad. The shallow end of the gene pool shows up in every place in some fashion."

"I suppose. He also mentioned you're less serious than we'd assumed when it comes to our potential relationship. I guess I read your intentions wrong?"

Erybet's gaze was intent. "You didn't, Conyod. I'm very interested in continuing to explore our relationship…yours and mine. Sletran is a great guy, an impressive soldier, and as good a Nobek as can be found…but as my future Nobek? I'm uncertain it would work."

"I promise you won't find a better member of the warrior caste. Sletran is definitely the best of his breed." Conyod decided to be as clear as possible. "I can't imagine anyone else for my Nobek."

Erybet smiled at him. Conyod thought he saw some condescension in his regard, a look he'd never gotten from the Dramok before. "I'm sure it feels that way. He's your first significant relationship, isn't he? The first is special, no doubt. But you're young. And please understand I mean no offense when I say this, you're also inexperienced when it comes to these matters."

"I won't argue those points, but the fact is, I've been in love with Sletran since I was fifteen. There's never been another Nobek. There never will be."

"Conyod, you can't mean it. You're a psychologist, and you understand how emotions work. You're infatuated, so it feels like you can't love anyone else of his breed. It fades when you get bored or someone better comes along. For instance, I have this friend who's a fellow group commander—"

"Excuse me for interrupting you, Erybet, but I need to be clear. Sletran isn't a mere crush. You are." Hurt and anger made Conyod sharp. "Sletran is my clanmate in all but name. We have a commitment that can't be broken. If you aren't willing to give my Nobek a real chance…then there's no point in us continuing to see you."

"Whoa, hold on, Conyod," Erybet broke in, a trace of alarm flitting across his face. "Okay, I realize this is upsetting you. I'm sorry if I said anything to make you feel I don't take you seriously. I do. Let's just slow down for a bit. Of course I'm happy to give Sletran a chance. I have every intention of doing so."

Relief settled over Conyod. "You do?"

"Like I said, he's terrific. I just need more time where he's concerned. I know and am friendly with several Nobeks. Maybe there's something I've missed to help him stand out from the rest."

"He's head and shoulders above any Nobek you've encountered." Conyod grinned. "You'll see."

"All right. Such a glowing recommendation deserves my full attention. When do you plan to visit us again?"

Reassured and relieved, Conyod spent nearly an hour chatting with the charming Dramok.

* * * *

One month later

It took all Conyod's self-control to keep from leaping in Sletran's open arms when he left his shuttle on the base's visitors pad at his next visit. The past week had felt like an eternity despite their nightly coms.

Sletran swallowed him in a hug and kissed his ear before whispering, "I've been counting the minutes."

"Me too." Conyod had to dampen a surge of emotion to hear his Nobek speak so sentimentally, though he'd done so quietly thanks to the man who'd approached a few steps behind him.

Conyod grinned at Erybet when Sletran released him. After an instant's hesitation and a quick glance at the Nobek, the Dramok also hugged him. "It's so good to finally have you back here."

"Thanks." Some of Conyod's enthusiasm was dimmed to note the tension between the two men he adored.

Erybet had been warmer to Sletran since his and Conyod's conversation about giving the Nobek fair consideration where a significant relationship was concerned. They'd had drinks a couple of times and dinner once. However, Erybet was also still seeing Group Commander Tox.

"He has every right to do so while evaluating me, and I'm trying not to be territorial…" Sletran had told Conyod during their last conversation.

"But it's tough when you've made even a slight commitment to him," the Imdiko finished for him.

"It's tough when I know he's serious about you. The urge to campaign for his affections feels both important and beneath me. It seems as if I'm begging him to like me, and I don't enjoy it."

"It is beneath you to jump through rings." Conyod had been firm. "Be yourself, my Nobek. Don't behave differently to impress him. You're perfect as you are."

If only Erybet would acknowledge Sletran's perfection Conyod thought now as he smiled up at the lovely features beaming at him.

"Do you mind an early lunch?" Erybet invited them. "It'll have to be mess hall chow, because Sletran and I are both due to be elsewhere in an hour, but it's ronka stew."

"Which is impossible to screw up badly," Sletran laughed.

"It sounds perfect." Conyod linked his arms in theirs. "Let's eat."

* * * *

"I can't believe they're making a case of this. It could be because he's a Dramok. Certain people have had it out for him simply because of his breed. I've always suspected it of High Commander Zyrf."

"Don't read too much into it. It was a major incident, though luckily no one was permanently hurt. Erybet's a big boy. He'll do fine." Conyod was confident.

He and Sletran were alone in the Nobek's quarters. Erybet had commed earlier, his tone disgusted as he'd apologized for having to attend an official meeting that had indications of going late.

"He's there because of those two ronkas' asses who almost blew up their squad. He shouldn't have to answer for it when I was in charge on the field." Sletran wasn't fretting, but he was angry. He paced the floor of his living space.

"He said he has your back. He read the reports from the witnesses and knows you aren't responsible."

"It's his ass the high commander will be kicking when it should be mine. It isn't right."

"He's your immediate superior. You told me he goes to bat for his guys when they deserve it, and this situation fits the bill. Even if you weren't on his radar as a potential clanmate, he'd jump to defend you."

"He might not be so thrilled with me by the time Zyrf is through." Sletran halted and gazed at Conyod. "I can't be sure if this is working between him and me."

Conyod wasn't sure either. Wishing for it wouldn't make a relationship happen between his lovers, and he ached to admit it to himself.

I have to come to terms with it, though.

For Sletran, he projected optimism. "He's angry his and his star squad leader's impeccable records are being challenged. Did you hear what he said? ‘No one's blaming the best men they've got for this bullshit.' He included you, Sletran."

The Nobek was silent for several seconds, continuing to look at Conyod, his stare evaluating. Finally, he said, "Erybet will go all the way, you realize. He has what it takes to become a high commander, right under the Imperial ruler."

"Sure he will. You'll be a success yourself. You'll earn as much rank as you wish."

"He'd be an excellent Dramok for you. I can see it so clearly."

Conyod scowled. "As long as he's your Dramok as well. Don't act noble and tell me to choose him over you if he forces the issue. It won't happen."

Sletran stepped close and gripped his shoulders. "He cares for you. I don't believe it's a matter of winning a rare Imdiko any longer, perfect as you are. I think he's falling in love."

"Sletran—"

"At lunch, he couldn't take his eyes off you. He hung on your every word. I've never heard of Erybet being as intent on anyone as he is for you."

Conyod stared at him. Was it true? Did Erybet regard him as more than merely a potential clanmate?

Sletran kissed his forehead. "I want you to have the best chance at a happy future. No matter what it means, I want you to have the life and clan you deserve."

Conyod stroked the Nobek's jaw. His heart felt it could burst. "I don't know what I deserve, but I know who my future must include. It's you. Maybe Erybet someday too if he comes to his senses where you're concerned. Whether he does or doesn't, you are my future, my Nobek. You might as well get it through your thick skull."

The warrior's tough exterior softened. He pulled Conyod in close. His kiss seared thought from the younger man's brain.

"Don't move," Sletran said when the kiss ended an eternity later. "I can't take this for granted. I need to show you what you mean to me."

Breathless, Conyod could only nod. The Nobek's longing gaze held him a silent prisoner.

Sletran undressed him in the middle of the living space, pulling his shoes and clothes off and tossing them aside. Then he examined him with the care of a surgeon, taking in every detail, walking around him to inspect Conyod's naked, eager body. A fine trembling ran through the Imdiko to be so minutely evaluated.

He ached for Sletran to touch him. Anywhere would do fine; it didn't have to be his cocks. They were engorged despite no contact having been made since his trousers had been stripped from him. His very skin seemed to tug toward his lover, starving for his mouth and hands.

At last, Sletran stood before him, his eyes dark as they peered into Conyod's. His rough fingertips stroked the Imdiko's cheeks. They traveled to his temples to draw his long hair from his face, baring him. Conyod strained forward, desperate for his kiss.

Sletran's grip tightened. "Remain still, my Imdiko. Let me appreciate all I can about you."

When Conyod reluctantly subsided, Sletran rewarded him by delivering another toe-curling kiss. Awash in desire, the younger man's fists clenched at his sides as he fought to obey his Nobek's wishes. He voiced a pleading whimper.

"I know," Sletran reassured him between nips to his lower lip and chin. "Your wanting me so much is a gift, my Conyod. I'm grateful, and I'll show you. But you must be patient."

His calloused palms slid to cup the back of Conyod's neck as he mouthed a warm, wet trail along his throat to his chest.

By the time he finished kissing, licking, and biting the Imdiko's nipples, Conyod was quaking. His pulse pounded in his slickened cocks, and he kept unconsciously rising on his toes. His brain swam in yearning from the slow, deliberate teasing Sletran subjected him to.

"Poor boy," the Nobek growled, his own arousal scent coming off him in waves despite the fact he was fully clothed. "So young and full of need, and I'm nowhere close to being done with you."

"My Nobek," Conyod groaned.

"My Imdiko. Come to the lounger. Sit." Sletran half-helped, half-pushed him to the large piece of furniture and lowered him to its surface. "There. Spread your legs wide enough for me to fit between."

The bigger man knelt on the floor, bracketed by Conyod's knees. The Imdiko's ass jerked clear off the lounger when his lover's fist circled the bases of his cocks. Chuckling, Sletran pushed his hips down.

"Hands at your sides. Keep them there."

Conyod's fists grasped the seat cushion as Sletran's head lowered. His hips tried to buck when the Nobek's tongue drew a slow circle around the tip of his secondary. His lover kept them from doing so, his grasp on Conyod's shafts careful but firm.

He lapped the Imdiko's smaller length lovingly, claiming the wetness beading from his pores. Sletran's eyes half-closed in pleasure as he claimed every emerging drop of excitement, his tongue deliciously rough as it licked and licked and licked. Conyod couldn't help but squirm. Sletran controlled him, keeping him in place and adding to his arousal.

His attention shifted to the younger man's primary. He eyed the drop of pre-cum glistening on its slit opening in proprietary satisfaction before slowly dragging his tongue over to claim it. Conyod's feet thumped the floor, able to move up only an inch or two thanks to Sletran's beefy arms weighing his legs down.

"Fuck," Conyod groaned.

"Eventually." Sletran licked the length of his larger cock, and Conyod stomped the floor again.

The Nobek's mouthings grew in passion as the minutes passed. His pace remained leisurely, however, and Conyod couldn't help but notice every nuance of his tongue's travels on his livid flesh. The lovemaking was excruciating in its detailed bliss, arousing him as much as a determined rhythm or demanding pace would have. His cocks jerked, and his heartbeat seemed to originate from his sexes rather than his chest. Spasms of sheer pleasure rocketed through Conyod's groin. Sletran's grip at the roots of his shafts had a secondary effect besides keeping the Imdiko's hips pinned to the lounger. It thwarted him from coming as he was growing more and more desperate to do.

It was the ingredient that drove him crazy with desire and agony: his lover controlling him utterly. Sletran forcing him to submit excited Conyod to no end, but until the Nobek allowed him release, he'd suffer. The exquisite torture had him begging his master to let him come, please let him come.

"Always so eager," Sletran chuckled. "I'm going to miss the fun when you gain better control. Keep those hands where I told you, or I'll do this to you all night."

Had he tormented Conyod before? He went to work on him with a will, his head fairly bouncing over the Imdiko's crotch as he sucked his primary hard. Conyod squalled. His feet pounded the floor. He fought to keep his hands where they clawed the cushion They twisted the fabric as he hung on for dear life. Sletran had picked up a few sadistic tendencies since their nights in Erybet's company. Conyod didn't put it past him to make good on his threat.

The Imdiko's cries were echoing off the walls of the small room when Sletran's hold eased and he swallowed the entirety of Conyod's primary. A roiling blast of heat shot through his cocks as he let go in shattering bursts down the Nobek's steadily pulling throat.

Conyod's body was heavy and unmoving when the pulses finally ceased. His head lolled, the brain in it empty of thought. His view of the ceiling and far wall was blurred. The man who stood tall in front of him and began to shed his uniform was an indistinct shape in the aftermath of the violent climax.

He offered no resistance when the muscled behemoth bent over him. He had a dim understanding of being draped across Sletran's shoulder, of the Nobek walking him around to the rear of the lounger. He was set on his feet facing the sturdy piece of furniture. His legs had no strength to hold him up, but it didn't matter. He was folded at the waist on the back of the lounger, where he lay limp.

Rough hands spread his ass cheeks apart. Legs pushed space between his. Something traced the rim of his entrance as a sigh filled the air. "Beautiful."

Awareness was just beginning to encroach on Conyod's consciousness when a slick intruder began to burrow in him. Sheer reflex encouraged him to relax and yield to it. Sletran slowly teased his way in, entering and retreating and entering deeper at each stroke. His hands kept Conyod's ass spread, and the Imdiko had the vision of his lover watching himself disappearing in his accepting flesh as he fucked him.

He groaned when his own cocks responded to the idea, warming despite the devastating orgasm he'd suffered. His youthful libido and quick recoveries were often a trial rather than a pleasure since he and Sletran had become lovers.

His shafts perked up when Sletran's thickness slid along his prostate, sending electric bliss through them. "Unfair," he moaned.

"Ah, you're awake. In all ways?" Sletran maintained his grip on one ass cheek. The other hand grasped Conyod's primary and found it erect. He laughed, but there was a growl in the mirth. "I knew I could count on you."

"Mercy," Conyod pleaded as Sletran masturbated him in rhythm to his steady thrusts. "I can't come again so soon."

"Good. Hold out for something better than my hand."

Conyod wasn't sure he could. Sletran had released his ass because his groin was now slapping it as he drove deep. His engorged shaft rubbed the Imdiko's hotspot continuously.

To make it worse, Sletran started talking. "Look at you, bent over for me to fuck, so sweet and submissive. Offering your ass to me to shove in deep. Ancestors, it feels so amazing how tight you're gripping my cock. Squeezing it, begging me to fill you with an ocean of hot cum."

The description added to the growing hunger in Conyod's ever enthusiastic sexes. Strength was slowly returning to his body, but for the moment, he could only shudder as Sletran continued to praise his ass' embracing grasp and describe how he'd soon shoot his seed in him.

Not so soon that Conyod wasn't writhing frantically against Sletran's hold on the nape of his neck, his feet beating the floor and his fists pounding the lounger when the Nobek's primary finally jolted, unleashing a flood of passion that escaped Conyod's ass to slide warmly down his thighs. By then, Sletran was riding him hard, making it so Conyod would know well into the next day he'd been thoroughly fucked.

Sletran sank onto Conyod as the final tremors shivered through him. He'd halted pumping the Imdiko's primary while he'd climaxed, but he began once more. Pinned under his lover's muscled weight, Conyod couldn't escape the tormenting thrill despite his frantic bucking.

"Problem, my Imdiko?" Sletran teased.

"Please. You're killing me."

"I doubt it, but I am being cruel when it's actually the last thing I intended."

Sletran's heavy pressure lifted, and he scooped Conyod in his arms like he was a child. Despite the desperate sexual haze driving him crazy, Conyod found the wherewithal to marvel at his lover's strength.

Sletran carried him to his sleeping mat and set him on his back. Before Conyod could reach for him, he swung a leg over his hips. He knelt straddling the younger man, his ass hovering above Conyod's eager need.

"Yes," the Imdiko implored.

"Sweet Conyod. I was ready to give you up so you could have the clanmates you deserve…but now all I want to say is don't ever leave me."

How could Sletran think he would? His Nobek was perfect. "Never."

He had a mere moment to bask in Sletran's smile. Then his beloved sank down, enclosing him in the most delightful of embraces.

Had he not come earlier, Conyod would have done so in an instant. However, he managed a few incredible minutes of anticipation as Sletran rose and fell on him, whispering words most Nobeks would consider diminishing of their warrior status while gently caressing his face, throat, and torso. Conyod was well aware of his Nobek's gaze on him as he writhed under him, as desire reached its peak, as he shouted his overwhelming pleasure.

Later, when Sletran spooned him from behind, Conyod drifted among scattered thoughts. Among them was a prayer to any entities who might be listening for Erybet to realize how perfect the three of them would be together.

Chapter Twelve

Conyod left the mess hall after breakfast, hurrying toward the visitor's shuttle pad. He and Sletran had lingered at the meal until the Nobek had to rush off to start his shift for the day, so they'd said their goodbyes until the next time they could get together.

Conyod stopped in Sletran's quarters to grab his overnight bag. Whistling contentment, he was halfway to his shuttle when a voice hailed him.

Already smiling, he turned to see Erybet walking in his direction. His smile faltered for a second at the sight of a stranger keeping step with the Dramok. A Nobek, the insignia pins on his uniform identifying him as a fellow group commander.

He just happened to see me while already in the guy's company. This isn't Sletran's competition, Nobek Tox.

"Hey, you weren't running off without saying goodbye, were you?" Erybet's bright grin offset the demand as he and his companion drew close.

"I figured you were already neck deep at work. Did last night's meeting go okay?"

The Dramok's smile faltered for an instant, then returned in full force. He waved off the matter. "It was ronka shit. I'll live to fight another day. Hey, let me introduce you to an old friend. This is Group Commander Nobek Tox."

"Not so old, thanks." Tox chuckled and bowed.

He was nearly as tall as Sletran, but his physique was more streamlined, built for speed rather than strength. A crooked nose and a scar along his jaw didn't detract from otherwise appealing looks. In fact, they lent him character Conyod supposed would be attractive, had he been in the market for a lesser Nobek.

"A pleasure to meet you, Group Commander," he lied. His stomach churned as he caught a whiff of the man's scent: a pleasant soap aroma from a recent shower that failed to erase a smell Conyod had gotten to know…Erybet's distinctive musk.

"So formal. Please call me Tox," the beaming man invited. "I've heard a lot about you from Erybet. The reports are complimentary, unlike what he might have said about me."

"You know I hold you in the highest esteem," Erybet laughed. "As much as I do Conyod."

Conyod stilled the sharp retort that wanted to come. For all he knew, Tox was uninformed of his and Sletran's iron-clad relationship. Erybet might have set up this surprise meeting while neglecting to tell Tox of it.

He put on a show of politeness. "It's good to meet you. I apologize for being in a rush, but I have rounds this afternoon at the hospital."

"Erybet told me you're an up-and-coming psychologist. Impressive." Tox's com went off. He checked the message and grimaced. He gave Erybet a significant gaze. "It would appear I have to run off too. I hope I can run into you again soon, Conyod. Catch up with you later, Erybet."

His summons must have been important because he zipped off after a hurried bow to Conyod.

"I'll walk you to your shuttle," Erybet offered, his expression determinedly cheerful. Conyod didn't miss he glanced after the swiftly moving Tox. His brow creased in what the Imdiko guessed was concern.

Conyod resumed his trek to the visitors' pad. As the Dramok kept pace next to him, he scented Tox on his companion.

"You two spent the night together. You could have joined Sletran and me instead." He managed to keep his tone steady.

Erybet drew a deep breath. "The meeting with High Commander Zyrf didn't go as well as I might have indicated. It didn't go well at all."

Conyod slowed, then halted. "What do you mean?"

Erybet also stopped. He shrugged and gazed in the distance. "Like I said, it was a pile of ronka shit he threw at me. He's hoping to make it stick so he can build a case for stripping me of rank."

"You and Sletran?" Conyod gasped.

"Just me. Sletran's safe. I made sure of it. He isn't the focus of Zyrf's campaign anyway."

Conyod stared at Erybet. "I don't understand. You weren't there when the explosion happened. How could you be responsible for it?"

"Zyrf has this whole song and dance about my not adequately controlling my men, neglecting proper discipline, so on. What it boils down to is he hates a member of my breed climbing the ranks in a Nobek's army. He's had it out for me since he was assigned as my superior."

"Tox gave you a look after he received a com message. Did it—"

"Zyrf's on a fishing expedition. He's interviewing a bunch of group commanders in hopes of finding allegations I'm derelict in my duties. I do everything by the book, and I document it. I doubt he can make anything stick, but in the meantime, he'll go out of his way to be a pain in my ass."

"I'm sorry he's putting you through this, Erybet. Isn't there anyone you can appeal to?"

The Dramok grinned. "Would a Nobek do so? How much respect do you think I'd earn crying to the oversight committee full of their breed that High Commander Zyrf is picking on me?"

He had a point, Conyod realized. "You could have chosen an easier career."

"Easy has no merit. I love being a soldier."

"So why Tox last night? What made him a better choice than me and Sletran?" Because Erybet was having such a difficult time thanks to his superior, Conyod was able to ask the question without sounding accusing.

"My mood. I realize you'll eventually have to see the less flattering aspects of my personality, and I intend to be honest on that account, but it feels too soon. I hate to scare you away when I'm so pissed off I can't be nice. Tox knows the pressures I'm under. He can handle me being rough and angry." Erybet stroked the back of his fingers along Conyod's jaw. His voice softened. "You don't deserve me in such a state. I have a lot to learn when it comes to my temper being less overwhelming around an Imdiko."

Conyod might have appreciated the sentiment if he couldn't smell Tox on Erybet. "I'm not delicate, Erybet. As a psychologist, I deal in anger and the less positive emotions of those who have little to no control. Besides, Sletran understands what you're facing. He may be of lower rank, but he's still responsible for his men and has pressure from his superiors, like you."

Erybet huffed, a note of irritation coming through. "Conyod…I don't think Sletran is for me. I'm sorry, but Tox is more my speed. If you give him a chance, I believe you'd be impressed."

Conyod's stomach felt like lead. "I might be impressed, but it's Sletran I love. I told you, I can't consider another Nobek."

"I don't want Sletran. I do want you, however. I wish to be the Dramok you need."

Conyod stepped back. His guts hurt, and his heart thumped slowly. Painfully. He didn't want to do this, especially when Erybet was already combatting his supervisor, but…

"There's no you and me unless Sletran is part of it. Since he'd hate to be considered simply so you and I can be together, if he has no hope of being in your heart…no. No, Erybet. I'm sorry, but this affair between you and me is done. I must choose him because I can't be happy otherwise."

"But…" Erybet stopped, apparently at a loss for words. For an instant, Conyod saw hurt and confusion on his lovely face. He saw he'd come to mean something important to the Dramok.

"Sletran is my Nobek." He struggled to keep his voice from breaking.

Erybet straightened and careful control settled on his features. "I'm sorry you feel that way, Conyod. I'd hoped I could prove my worth to you."

"You have. You could have had a piece of my heart, but only alongside Sletran. Take care of yourself, Erybet. I hope everything goes well for you."

His heart shattering, Conyod hurried to his shuttle before he could embarrass himself by bursting into tears.

Erybet watched Conyod go. His senses screamed to call him back, to ask him for another chance, to discover some way they could make it right between them. He felt as if his heart was being torn from his body with every step the hunched Imdiko took from him.

Don't go.The words screamed in his mind, but he didn't voice them. He was a Dramok. He never begged, no matter how desperately he wished for something…or someone. Even someone as special and perfect as Imdiko Conyod.

He'll be back. When his crush on Sletran cools, he'll think of me.Erybet wanted to believe it was true. He stubbornly ignored the clarity he'd seen in Conyod's eyes, the assurance in spite of the obvious regret when the Imdiko had spoken of his love and how he wouldn't be happy unless Sletran remained in his life.

Conyod was nearly to the building he'd disappear behind to reach the shuttle pad. Erybet waited for him to look his way. If Conyod glanced to see him still standing there and watching him, Erybet knew he'd return. Perhaps not just then, but someday.

"Turn around. Look at me," he whispered, directing his formidable will to somehow force Conyod to do so.

His head down, Conyod made the turn behind the building and disappeared. He didn't look back.

* * * *

"It's over," Conyod told Sletran's vid image late that night as he sat on the edge of his sleeping mat. He swallowed, hearing how choked he sounded.

The Nobek sighed. "I wish it could have been different. There's a lot I like about Erybet, as a Dramok and a man and a potential clanmate. But if I'm not what he wants, it's for the best it ends now. I just wish you hadn't been caught in the middle like this."

"Maybe I do fall in love too easily. It could be true I'm na?ve to have let myself care for him so quickly."

"Hey." Sletran's sharp tone woke Conyod from the morose mood consuming him. "You've done nothing wrong to feel as you do. Some men never give themselves the chance to let others in their hearts, especially when love has hurt them in the past. As the Nobek you held out for despite the obstacles I put in your path, I'm impressed by how you put yourself on the line."

Conyod managed a smile. "When I know someone's perfect, I know. Well, I thought I did. At least I got it right where you're concerned."

"We'll find the Dramok meant for us, my Imdiko. I swear it, even if it takes us two hundred years and I'm two steps from my deathbed when we do so."

The idea of Sletran and himself, old and gray and tottering but still on the prowl for a clan leader, should have been depressing. Instead, the image of them sizing up Dramoks in a club or bar as elderly men made Conyod laugh.

Sletran grinned. "There you go. Try to get some sleep, okay? Tomorrow, you'll be a little better. The next day, a bit more of the pain will fade. One day at a time, my Imdiko."

"Who's the psychologist here?" Conyod chuckled. "All right, my Nobek. I love you. Goodnight."

"Goodnight. I'll see you in my dreams."

* * * *

Erybet sat holding a cup of dlas. He wished for a stronger drink, but he knew he wouldn't indulge. He needed to stay sharp as desperately as he wanted to be numb.

High Commander Zyrf was determined to have his rank reduced. When Erybet and Tox had spoken that afternoon, his lover had tried to play off their superior's interview as inconsequential. Despite Tox's efforts, Erybet could tell Zyrf had dug hard to find some reason to bust him down. It was probably the reason Tox hadn't shown up to fuck.

"Assholes," he told his drink before gulping half its contents. "It never fucking ends."

The funny thing was, he adored the world inhabited by mostly Nobeks. Even the training camp he'd been sent to when he'd been mistakenly categorized as a member of the warrior breed had been a thrill, as harsh as it had been. If his Dramok characteristics hadn't come to the fore, making him so domineering the other boys had beaten him severely, he'd have been perfectly happy to remain under the Nobek banner.

The beating, which had happened just shy of a year after he'd started training camp, had led to his parents demanding he be re-tested. It turned out his instructors had already been documenting their suspicions in hopes of lobbying for a second evaluation. No one was surprised when Erybet was determined, beyond a shadow of a doubt, to be fully Dramok.

He'd fought against being taken home. He'd disregarded the trauma he'd suffered. He loved the active world of the Nobeks, the constant demands he prove himself worthy of being a warrior and protector. The harder the task, the better he liked it.

His campaign to remain in camp was impressive for a six-year-old. "He'll go far, wherever he ends up," an instructor had said in admiration. It hadn't been enough for Erybet to stay among those who would have tested him to the fullest extent.

His parents had been concerned the trials of a Nobek camp had somehow damaged him beyond the physical bruises. They'd sent him to counseling. At first, young Erybet had seen the therapist Dr. Thyra as part of the conspiracy to keep him from where he wanted to be. In a few short weeks, he'd come to adore the Imdiko psychologist who listened to him with endless patience, care, and warmth.

Conyod reminds me of Thyra.Erybet blinked at the realization. No wonder he was so taken by the young man.

He swallowed the rest of his dlas. It was losing Conyod rather than Zyrf's breedist machinations keeping him from sleep. Erybet was stunned at how much it hurt. Had he fallen so hard and so quickly? It seemed he had.

But Conyod was gone because he preferred Sletran to Erybet.

"What's so great about him? Yeah, he's one of my best, if not the best of my soldiers, but as a potential clanmate? What makes him a greater catch than me?" Erybet asked his empty glass.

Sletran had struck him as standard-issue Nobek. Strong, proud, dedicated to a job where he could bust heads on a regular basis. Impressive in bed, sure, but where was he outstanding as far as a relationship was concerned? He was stoic where Tox was passionate. Sletran was predictable. Tox was spontaneous…sometimes too much so, which was why Erybet grew irritated him every few months and their relationship cooled until lust woke anew. But Tox was exciting. Sletran wasn't precisely boring, but there was such a thing as being too sure of a man.

Wasn't there?

Chapter Thirteen

Erybet had no intention of talking to his current least favorite squad leader. As luck would have it, he and Sletran crossed paths first thing the next morning. He had headed to his office early, and Sletran's direction indicated the Nobek was going to breakfast at the mess hall.

They slowed as soon as they realized they were approaching each other. Erybet searched for smugness on Sletran's face as he nodded acknowledgement to the requisite bow. As was always the case when they were on duty, the Nobek controlled whatever feelings he might have felt toward Erybet.

Erybet almost got past him without speaking, but the urge to do so overwhelmed him. He swung around and spoke to the departing soldier. "Squad Leader."

Did he imagine Sletran's shoulders sagging just a bit when he turned to respond? "Sir."

"I suppose Conyod spoke to you of our exchange before he left yesterday?"

Still no emotion. "He did, sir."

"I hope you understand I have the highest regard for you as a soldier and Nobek. I have enjoyed our time together, but my preferences aren't quite compatible where you're concerned."

The barest hint of a smile ghosted Sletran's lips, but he seemed resigned rather than amused. It made Erybet wonder if he'd seen him as more than a means to clan Conyod. "Sounds like the old saying, ‘it's me, not you.'"

A pang of regret surprised Erybet. He set it aside. "I suppose it does, but it's true. Maybe I've been foolish. Maybe you are exactly what Conyod wants for a lifemate. If it's the case, I wish you both the happiness you deserve."

Sletran's brows rose. After a beat, he said, "Thank you, sir. I wish the same for you. I know Conyod does as well."

Loss wash over Erybet. If only Conyod had given Tox a chance, he felt perfect happiness would have been in reach. "I'll see you around."

He turned and left, the loneliest in his life despite the many soldiers filling the grounds.

* * * *

Two weeks later

Sletran stood in front of High Commanders Zyrf, Nesmar, and Akrij in a tribunal chamber, schooling his expression to remain as bland as he possibly could. Fortunately, he had plenty of practice in the discipline of doing so.

He drew a breath and forced his tone to remain even as he looked Zyrf square in the eye. "In reply to your question, sir, once again I must repeat Group Commander Erybet has been an outstanding superior officer since I've come under his command. I've noted no instance of neglect of his duties. He's hard but fair. His attention to the discipline of soldiers Gavia and Toli was by the book. As it was I who was on the field running the explosives exercise, trusted by Commander Erybet to oversee their training, it was ultimately my responsibility for any problems that day, rather than him."

Zyrf's withering glare increased, probably because he wasn't hearing what he wished. "Group Commander Erybet was a lover of yours recently, was he not?"

"Yes sir. Was. We are no longer engaged in a relationship outside of our duties. Sir."

"Plenty of commanding officers engage personally with lower ranking soldiers. They clan them as well. As long as they follow the rules during the course of an intimate relationship, it's of no consequence," High Commander Akrij reminded Zyrf from his seat behind the polished wood stand. He sat in the middle of the group who looked down on Sletran, who stood alone on the glossy marble floor.

"As his lover, he has reason to protect Erybet," Zyrf growled. "A personal connection during the time of the incident could have easily led to a coverup of some sort."

"We can discuss the idea during our deliberations, but in our investigation thus far, no one has noted it as a problem. High Commander Nesmar, do you have further questions for Squad Leader Sletran?"

"None."

"High Commander Zyrf?"

Zyrf scowled. "No. You're dismissed, Squad Leader."

Sletran felt a sense of relief he'd be able to escape before the possibility of his simmering emotions exploding. He bowed and turned to face the gallery, filled with empty benches. It had been a closed interview, so no one beyond himself and the three high commanders were in attendance.

He started toward the door leading from the overly warm chamber…then paused. He looked at Akrij, who had a reputation for fairness.

Don't do it. This could screw you over badly.

His mouth spoke anyway. "Permission to speak candidly to this board, sir?"

Akrij's brow rose. "Granted."

"Thank you, sir." Sletran squared his shoulders. "Though High Commander Zyrf has never shown overt disrespect to Group Commander Erybet in the past to my knowledge, his dislike of having a Dramok of command rank serving under him is well known."

Zyrf half-rose from his chair. "You insubordinate—"

"Desist," Akrij warned him. "I'm ranking member of this inquiry, and I've given the squad leader permission to speak."

Snarling, Zyrf sat. His black glare promised retribution.

Goodbye, career. Oh well. I've started. No reason I shouldn't take it all the way.

"Continue, soldier, but mind you stick to facts. We aren't interested in your feelings," Akrij warned him in a stern tone.

"Yes sir. The facts are, High Commander Zyrf has ordered surprise field battles between Group Commander Erybet's various squads and the squads of fellow group commanders at a rate above the normal course of such exercises."

"As is my prerogative," Zyrf seethed.

"Yes sir, it is. However, Commander Binmej's group of squads have been ordered to undergo similar exercises a total of twice in the past year. Likewise, Commander Tox's groups. And the squads of three additional group commanders I could name. Every one of those exercises were against the soldiers under Commander Erybet, and none other."

"You're saying Erybet's group has had ten surprise field battles this year?" Nesmar appeared thunderstruck. He frowned at Zyrf, who looked positively apoplectic.

"Yes sir." Sletran let a hint of a smirk peek, but not enough he'd get called down for it. "Of which Commander Erybet's squads have won seventy percent, the highest for any group commander's troops. Obviously, I have no complaints when it comes to being the best. We enjoy showing our fighting readiness and proving we're the elite."

Akrij continued to display little emotion. "Is that all?"

"No sir. Despite our delight in adding to our victories, it is acknowledged by those I've spoken to in our group, troops and squad leaders alike, that we're regarded as less capable by High Commander Zyrf since we aren't led by a Nobek group commander. It serves to increase our determination to succeed. However, there's an issue of newer soldiers entering our group. They tend to believe they have permission to disrespect their group commander, due to the example set forth by his superior."

"It seems from your win tally, Group Commander Erybet handles such disrespect handily."

"Indeed, he does, sir. But it's a shame he has to. Imagine how much more successful his already impressive squads would be if he didn't have to expend energy on countering insubordinate displays."

"You've seen this conduct yourself? Firsthand?" Nesmar asked.

"I have, sir. I nearly participated in it myself when I was coming up in the ranks, but better sense ultimately prevailed. I was tempted to be insubordinate to Group Commander Erybet simply because High Commander Zyrf made me ashamed my commanding officer is a Dramok."

Akrij regarded him for a beat. He showed no sign of what he thought of Sletran's statement. "Thank you, Squad Leader. I believe we've heard enough."

"Yes sir. Sirs." Sletran bowed and turned smartly on his heel. He swore he could feel Zyrf's fury pushing him out the door.

Choke on it, asshole. It's the least you deserve for coming after Erybet, you breedist shit.

As he stepped into the sunlit grounds, Sletran was aware he hadn't defended his Dramok commander just because it was right. Part of it had been the protective urge of a Nobek who cared for another man.

A man who doesn't share my sentiments. Never mind. It doesn't make me less of a Nobek to be fond of someone who doesn't want me in return.

Smiling and satisfied despite the nagging sensation of loss, Sletran broke into a trot to get to where work called.

* * * *

Three months later

"We have to properly celebrate you being hired permanently at the hospital's psychiatric ward. This is a huge deal."

"Didn't we just do that?" Conyod grinned at Sletran as they wandered to the mess hall. He was paying his regular visit on his day off, the sky was full of sunshine, and they'd finished making extremely satisfying love less than an hour before. Life was amazing.

The Nobek chuckled. "I mean a real celebration. A party. It would have to be at your place or a rented hall. I can't imagine us inviting your friends and associates to my tiny quarters. And your family, of course."

Conyod was aware Sletran was watching him as he included his parents in the equation, but nothing could dim his happiness. Sure, he'd held the title of doctor for over a year and had worked at the hospital longer, but it hadn't felt real until he'd completed his internship and been given permanent status in its psychiatric unit.

"Now isn't the time for them to break away from the ranch, especially since my choice of practice is a blatant refusal to live and work with them."

"I'm sure they're proud of your accomplishments."

"I suppose, but between my career and the latest happenings at home, a celebration isn't high on their list."

"Latest happenings at home?" Sletran slowed despite his stomach loudly announcing how desperately it wanted lunch. His brow wrinkled in concern. "Catch me up."

"It isn't anything new. There continues to be evidence someone is entering the stables. Small footprints and weird sightings continue."

"The ghost boy?"

Conyod nodded, swallowing as he reflected on his mother's report. "He's seen mostly at a distance and disappears when anyone investigates. Funny enough, my father Vel insists everyone leave the stables alone and stay away from the…phantom. My mother thinks he saw the ghost and recognized him, but he refuses to discuss it."

"I thought Vel didn't believe in such things."

"He insists there's no ghost, but she says he's as on edge as the rest. A couple of the ranch hands have threatened to quit. Too many mysteries."

"Wow. A real-life haunting. Your family, Vel in particular, seems too down to earth to put credence in such ideas." Sletran's fascinated expression suddenly froze as he looked ahead of them.

Conyod searched to see what had claimed his attention, though his heart knew. Sure enough, Erybet was in view, hurrying from one building to the next. As if he felt their attention, he glanced their way. His progress slowed, and for a moment, Conyod thought he'd come and talk to them.

Instead, the beautiful Dramok resumed his course, averting his gaze. Conyod watched him enter the building he'd been heading for and disappear from sight.

He swallowed heaviness in his throat. "How is he?"

"I don't see a lot of him, except on inspection days. I have to think he's doing better since Zyrf was transferred to another site and a different high commander took over his battalions. We're Akrij's group now."

"No breedism from that quarter?" Conyod couldn't help but eye the structure Erybet had gone in, wishing the Dramok would emerge so they could at least say hello.

"Akrij takes personal care of his troops, much like Erybet. From what little I've heard, they get along extremely well." Sletran eyed Conyod, a sense of melancholy settling on his features at what he saw. "You haven't gotten over him."

"I'm trying. I'd half-hoped he'd contact us to at least talk when you told me he and Tox stopped seeing each other."

"Yeah, well, maybe he isn't ready to settle down. I think you were the first guy to hit his radar as an actual potential clanmate. He's no doubt playing the field, like the vast majority of soldiers."

Conyod noted Sletran's frown. "What? Who's he sleeping with these days?"

"No one. I've heard jokes about him taking celibacy vows and becoming a priest. One fellow squad leader asked if you and I had ruined him for everyone else."

"What did you say?"

"I might have said something along the lines of ruining the shithead's ability to walk for the rest of his life. He was being a real asshole…I have the idea he tried to seduce Erybet and was firmly turned down."

Conyod laughed, his better spirits lifting at Sletran's menacing smirk. He had the feeling his lover had taken as much pleasure in defending Erybet as he had in telling the irritating shithead off.

He didn't voice his suspicions Sletran wasn't quite over the Dramok commander either. Instead, he teased, "Such a Nobek response."

"I despise that guy. One of these days he'll give me a real reason to hurt him. I can't say I'm not looking forward to it."

* * * *

Erybet read the supply and requisitions staff the riot act for delaying a delivery he'd expected the day prior. In short order, he received ardent apologies and assurances it wouldn't happen again. Satisfied he'd made his point, he left the building and stood in front of its door.

He caught sight of Conyod's and Sletran's backs as they entered the mess hall. A sense of loss reverberated through him as they went in the structure, leaving his view.

He hadn't seen Conyod in weeks. Erybet had made it a point to avoid roaming the grounds where the Imdiko might be when the time came for his regular visits to Sletran. Regret had made it painful to see his young and shining face…the regret Erybet experienced now.

Sletran was a problem for him as well, and he'd gone to great lengths to avoid the Nobek when possible. Akrij had told Erybet of the squad leader's impassioned defense of him before the panel. Sletran's allegations had resulted in an investigation into Zyrf's activities as they related to Erybet. Akrij had discovered Group Commander Tox had agreed to watch Erybet closely for negligence on Zyrf's behalf. Erybet's lover had been offered a promotion if he could offer proof of said negligence. As a result, Erybet had put an end to their affair. Zyrf and Tox had been sent to less favorable bases and warned further mischief would result in demotions.

For his part, Erybet acknowledged he'd fucked up. He'd lost his chance at not only a relationship with Conyod, but also a Nobek of impeccable honor. A Nobek he should have jumped through hoops to impress.

How could he have been so blind, Erybet wondered as he trudged toward his office, unable to face the pair in the dining hall. He'd lost his appetite anyway. In the aftermath of fending off Zyrf's attempt to get him in trouble and Tox's duplicity, his dismissal of Sletran's dependability because it had felt boring…Erybet barked a bitter laugh…was the height of stupidity. Right now, he'd give his arm for a lover he could rely on, the same lover he'd cast aside for more excitement than he"d wanted.

Talk to him. Talk to them both. Maybe it isn't too late.

He'd heard those words in his head in the months after Conyod had walked off on him. Since Sletran had risked his commission to defend Erybet. Since discovering Tox had turned on him. Having caught a glimpse of Conyod and Sletran together, the pair he'd squandered a chance for from misplaced Dramok stubbornness to have what he thought he'd desired, they echoed loudly in his head once again.

Pride had kept him from heeding what his heart cried for thus far. Pride was crumbling however, having seen them in the flesh. Humiliation crippled him instead. Sletran, stinging from his rejection, might be eager to reject him in turn. A rejection Erybet deserved.

* * * *

Sletran walked in his quarters at the end of the shift. He was excited and had spent the day in anticipation. Conyod was a full-fledged therapist at the hospital now. He'd also turned twenty-five a few weeks before and no longer required parental permission to clan, had he and Sletran had a potential Dramok in their future. He could now make all decisions as an adult on his own behalf.

Sletran had checked into housing options available to them, and affordable larger quarters were obtainable at a location off the base, halfway between there and the hospital. He felt the time was right to bring up them moving in together. He planned to do so at dinner at a nice, if inexpensive, restaurant that night.

Conyod seemed pleased at the opportunity to eat somewhere beside the mess hall, though he never complained about the food at the base. They jumped in Sletran's personal shuttle and headed out.

They were soon seated in the unassuming but pleasant restaurant and ordering. Their food came after a reasonable wait, and they found it good.

Halfway through his plate, it struck Sletran they hadn't gone out for an actual dinner date since their last in Erybet's company. The Dramok had been on Sletran's mind most of the day. He'd noted how his commanding officer had frozen upon seeing him and Conyod. Even at a distance, the Nobek had detected an attitude of longing in the lovely face staring at them from dozens of yards distant.

Sletran had been tempted to go to Erybet's office during the afternoon to ask him if he'd like to join them in the future for drinks. He was still stinging from the Dramok's lack of returned interest, but Sletran refused to regret having cared for him. Hell, he continued to care, as much as he wished he didn't.

He noticed Conyod was quieter than usual. He'd been the same at breakfast too, and Sletran guessed it was because of seeing Erybet. If the Dramok had been yearning, Conyod displayed blatant pining for what could have been. A sense of loss clung to him, and Sletran worried it hadn't lessened in the months since he'd told Erybet it was over.

We could have been three.Would his suggestion for shared living space be a sorrowful reminder for Conyod instead of the celebration Sletran hoped it would be?

The Nobek cleared his throat. "Hey, big-shot doctor. Let me ask you something."

Conyod smiled at him. "If it's about dessert, the answer is yes."

Sletran chuckled. "More along the lines of a home of our own. I was thinking of an apartment located where we can split the travel time halfway between our jobs. What do you think?"

The grin that chased the gloom from his beloved Imdiko claimed he'd done the right thing. "You mean it? You want us to live together?"

"I may have already found a decent place. Not fancy, but more room than we can afford individually. It's in a safe area, and there are plenty of recreational options nearby. We can take a look at it in a couple of days, if you'd like."

"Yes! Of course I want to. This is fantastic!" Conyod reached across the small table and grabbed Sletran's hand. His face glowed in the room's intimate lighting.

"I'm glad you're ready for this step. Thank you, my Imdiko." Sletran kissed the hand he held, his heart full.

You know what? I am going to talk to Erybet. The worst he can do is tell me to get lost.

Chapter Fourteen

Conyod curled in Sletran's arms in the Nobek's bed after they'd made love. Their breathing had steadied, and his lover had ordered the ventilation fan on a higher setting to cool their warm, perspiring bodies. Exhilaration had drifted to contentment.

Only one thing kept the moment from perfection. Conyod's glimpse of Erybet earlier had brought an ache to his heart even Sletran's proposal of living together couldn't diminish.

Stop being greedy. You have the most amazing Nobek alive as yours. Be grateful.

He was. Though his dearest wish hadn't come true, the wish to be Sletran's clanmate in every way possible and the wish he could have Erybet as well, he'd attained the next best situation. Sletran was committed to him. Sletran loved him as Conyod had loved the Nobek for so many years. They were clanmates in the ways that counted most, despite lacking the registered status on the government books.

It didn't keep a rebellious part of his mind, which always had to pluck out what was missing and show it to him, from reminding him of Erybet and what could have been. Despite their too-short relationship, Conyod had been sure of the Dramok's rightness for him and Sletran. His glass-half-empty piece refused to stop feeling the empty space where Erybet belonged.

I won't let it ruin what I have. I'm lucky, and damn it, I'll appreciate it.

He was determined, but the little voice he couldn't shut off no matter how hard he tried whispered, but Erybet…

* * * *

Sletran nodded his thanks after Erybet's aide told him, "The group commander will see you, sir."

The Nobek walked in the inner office. The door shut behind him as Erybet rose from his desk to acknowledge Sletran's bow. "Squad Leader Sletran, is there a problem?"

"Yes sir. I'm afraid there is."

The line between Erybet's brows deepened in concern. He met Sletran's gaze for the first time in weeks. "Report then."

"The problem is fate has granted me the greatest gift I could hope for: an Imdiko who loves me."

Surprise drifted across the Dramok's visage before pain shadowed it. Anger lit, a refuge for him to hide behind. "What the hell is this?"

"This is a wakeup call for you. I won't let Conyod go, not for anything. I can't."

"I got the message. You won, I lost." A growl had slipped into his voice.

"No one had to lose. With all due respect, sir, if you'd get your head out of your ass, you could have him too. It's clear to me he loves you. If you haven't figured it out, I have the greatest respect for you, which is at the least a decent foundation to build more upon."

Erybet's anger had become watchfulness. A hint of hope peeked at the edges. "As I do for you, beyond your abilities as a soldier. Although the ‘head in my ass' reference doesn't quite ring as high esteem."

"My regard for you says you can handle a blunt observation." Sletran allowed the corner of his lips to drift up.

"Your regard has been obvious. I've wanted to thank you for speaking on my behalf before the committee, Sletran. It could have cost you." Erybet's tone softened.

"I thought those proceedings had been kept quiet."

"They were, and I don't know exactly what you reported to them, but I'd heard you'd been called in to answer questions. Considering Zyrf was reassigned soon afterward and Akrij took command of my group, I figured you'd spoken well on my behalf. I'm grateful, Sletran. And…and I've regretted my blindness where your worth as a friend and lover were concerned."

Sletran's heart beat faster. Erybet had the expression of want he'd worn for Conyod, but on this occasion it was directed at the Nobek.

He kept his tone steady despite the hope seizing him. "You should consider giving Conyod and I a second chance."

Erybet barked a sudden laugh. "I told Conyod he was na?ve to settle for the first likely men he'd encountered. It turns out he wasn't the fool. I was. There you were all this time…even discounting Conyod's obvious devotion to you, I knew what a fantastic Nobek you were, and I just…"

He gestured angrily at himself.

"Don't feel bad. I spent years seeing Conyod as the traumatized kid I helped instead of the young man he became. Even after he attained maturity, it took me years and a meeting I cursed myself for agreeing to until he showed up. Ancestors help me, did he ever show up."

Erybet stepped around his desk and approached Sletran until they stood a mere two feet apart. "You asked me to consider giving you and Conyod another chance, which is rightly my question. Will you give me another chance, Sletran? With an eye toward honoring me by becoming my Nobek, if I don't fuck up again?"

Sletran could have grinned from ear to ear. He allowed a smile better suited to a Nobek of his standing. "Even if it were for only Conyod's benefit, I'd say yes, but I want you for myself as well."

"Thank you." Erybet's grin was wide enough for both of them.

* * * *

Conyod was alone in Sletran's quarters. He hummed as he viewed the virtual tour of the apartment Sletran had found for them to possibly move in together. The Nobek had been right in that it wasn't fancy, but it was bigger than either of their current living spaces. They could make it nice for the couple of years they'd live in it until their pay grades went up. Though Sletran didn't aspire to a rank that would tie him to a computer and endless reports, he was willing to advance to group commander and maybe a little higher. Conyod had no doubt his lover would earn the rank sooner rather than later.

The door to the outside opened, and he glanced from the view of the decently sized kitchen of their prospective new home to greet the Nobek. His jaw dropped.

Erybet stood next to Sletran.

"Look at the stray Dramok I found. Can you believe they let his type on these hallowed grounds?" Sletran demanded of Conyod.

"Hello, Conyod." Erybet eyed him with the familiar warmth the Imdiko had missed.

Conyod rose from the lounger he'd been sitting on. "Erybet. What…hi. How've you been?"

He heard how stupid he sounded, but it was all he could manage to keep the urge to fling himself at the beautiful man at bay.

"I've been lonely. Pissed off at myself for letting the two best potential clanmates I could ask for slip through my fingers."

Two potential clanmates. Conyod looked at Sletran to confirm his ears weren't playing tricks on him.

His Nobek nodded. "Like you, I think he's the right Dramok for us. He's agreed to give this another shot."

"Let's be honest." Erybet scowled at Sletran. "I jumped at the chance when you, as you so delicately put it, told me to pull my head out of my ass. It was true I needed to. So here I am."

"Did you really say that to him?" Conyod didn't know whether to laugh or be appalled.

"It got his attention."

Erybet sighed and appealed to Conyod. "I've been an idiot. Can you forgive me?"

For an answer, the Imdiko rushed to him and wrapped his arms around the gorgeous man. Erybet apparently got the message because he kissed him as soon as he stopped laughing. Warmth rushed through Conyod as he glanced from Dramok to Nobek.

He had a chance for the greatest prize he could ask for.

Sletran gave him a warning look. "We'll take our time to make sure this is right for us. You prefer to follow your gut where feelings are concerned, but a lifelong commitment isn't a decision to make lightly."

Conyod knew he was right, but if Erybet had asked them to clan then and there, he'd have found it hard to wait. He fended off the nudge of disappointment he couldn't have what he wanted immediately by asking, "Are you saying we can't have sex this very second?"

"Those hormones," Erybet groaned to Sletran, but he was grinning. Since he was still hugging Conyod close, the Imdiko detected lively interest perking up.

"There's only one cure for a young man's lust. I guess there's nothing to do but give it to him." Sletran sighed as if he faced a trial rather than lovemaking.

"Oh, I'm perfectly fine if it's such a chore. I have two hands. I'll be back in a couple of minutes." Conyod made as if to head for the bathroom.

"Like hell you will." Sletran pulled him from Erybet's grasp and lifted Conyod onto his shoulder. "Come on, Erybet. Let's seal this deal."

"I'm all in."

Laughing, the trio made their way to Sletran's sleeping room. More accurately, Erybet and Sletran made their way, and the Nobek carried Conyod there. He was tossed onto the bed.

He had a brief instant of renewed amazement at how the two men worked together as if they'd been making love to him for years. They required no speech or even glances of confirmation as they crowded close to him and simultaneously pulled at his clothes. Theirs was a choreographed dance as they bared skin, as they stroked and kissed, as they brought him to full passionate excitement.

Eagerly aroused, Conyod as usual couldn't keep from writhing beneath them. They alternated between pushing his seeking hands aside, pinning him, or simply ignoring his increasingly frantic motions. They handled him as they pleased, and he discovered he was no match for the pair who'd been trained to overcome their enemies. Masculine chuckles filled his ears as they played and kept him helpless to work his will against them.

They drove him crazy as a mouth would briefly warm his cocks, then move away. Or a hand would grip him, pump a single time, then depart to fondle him somewhere else. They tormented him deliciously, their focus seemingly on driving him out of his skull with desire. His feet kicked the air. His ass bounced on the mat. He fought to touch them, then himself, only to have his hands brushed aside.

Then Erybet pinned him so he couldn't move while Sletran found the hovercuffs he kept near the bed. Conyod was shortly bound so he was vulnerable to their whims. The pair examined his prone body, their expressions gloating.

"Dinner is served," Erybet snickered.

"Looks tasty," Sletran agreed. He went to the drawer in the wall where he kept various instruments of excitement and torture. Many served both functions.

Conyod had no opportunity to see what the Nobek chose. Erybet manipulated the hovercuffs so he was forced to kneel on the opposite side of the mat, his back to the rummaging Sletran. He gazed up at the Dramok, who set his trapped hands behind his neck.

"Does this work for you?" Erybet asked Sletran.

"Perfect." The Nobek came around the mat to join them. Whatever he'd chosen from the "happy drawer," as he called it, was kept hidden behind him.

Wide-eyed in nervous anticipation, Conyod looked at the pair. There was no use in asking what Sletran had. No use in asking what they planned to do to him. No use begging for relief from his throbbing cocks. He was theirs to do with as they wished, for as long as they wished.

"These look good," Erybet growled. He grasped Conyod's shafts and slowly worked them. Conyod groaned, his whole frame stiffening in response to the tight grips. His hips moved in instinctive rhythm to Erybet's movements as the Dramok watched his face.

"You want my mouth on you, don't you? You want me to suck these hungry cocks."

"Yes," Conyod gasped, lost in the thrall of expert handling. He doubted Erybet would do so. At least not right away. He had the feeling he was in for a long bout of teasing.

It was a complete shock when Erybet bent low and enveloped Conyod's secondary in his mouth. The Imdiko shouted his surprise as wet warmth engulfed him, drew back, and swallowed him again.

Erybet didn't stop. He continued to fellate Conyod at a measured pace. The bound man's focus narrowed to the full, sensuous lips wrapped around his smaller length, to the strong hand pumping his primary, to the sensation of the Dramok's rough tongue applying friction to his sensitive intimate flesh. Only the delicious feeling of Sletran's calloused hand massaging his ass stole any of his consideration from Erybet's incredible attentions.

Though the pace was deliberate, Conyod's still-youthful hormones eagerly seized on what was happening. His cocks felt full, the sensation of yearning building until he knew he'd eventually come no matter how careful and slow Erybet sucked him. He trembled as the relentless heat rose. Then he shook as his pulse throbbed demand through his sexes. At last, he quaked, need rising fiercely. It didn't matter when Sletran broke off from massaging his ass. Erybet was giving Conyod all he needed for ultimate gratification.

The sweet pull of Erybet's attentiveness disappeared, as did his hold on Conyod's primary. For a full second, Conyod refused to credit it. Then the Dramok stood tall in front of him, his smile evil.

"What—?" Conyod began.

A sound like rain on a hard surface pattered, cutting him off. He had only a second to wonder what it was before stings lit his ass in darts of pain. He jerked, and his brain emerged from the fog of arousal.

His head whipped to the side. Sletran knelt on the bed next to him. His arm swung in a lazy arc, and another spatter of hurt splashed Conyod's buttocks. The Imdiko yipped. Sletran's arm drifted back, bringing a knotted-tailed leather flogger in view.

He struck again, harder. Conyod couldn't keep from trying to avoid the strips of leather painting his ass in torment. He failed, thanks to the cuffs on his ankles keeping him in place. All he could do was twist. His attempts to avoid discipline meant Sletran's flogger found previously untouched flesh. Conyod gasped and flinched under an increasing torrent that roasted his unprotected ass. The soft thuds of the strips became constant, working up and down his buttocks and thighs. Conyod couldn't think straight to beg for mercy.

The flogging stopped. Conyod was so focused on the burning throb of his ass, he shouted in shock when Erybet sucked his larger cock to its base.

Pain and bliss swirled through his body, confusing him. Was he in heaven or hell? His thoughts scrambled, puzzle pieces dumped in a pile. His cries were inarticulate, halfway between sobs and laughter.

Bit by bit, pleasure gained dominance. It reduced the smarting of his ass and thighs to intense, pulsing warmth. Erybet's mouth and throat were hot, demanding Conyod's surrender to increasing sensuality. Even when the Dramok grabbed his butt, holding him in place as he sucked and swallowed, the discomfort of the grip on his smarting flesh merited only a passing moan. Rapture grew, promising greater gratification in the near future.

Again, Conyod was too fuzzy-brained to credit it when Erybet released him and retreated to watch. Sletran's flogger whipping him astonished him anew. Pain became ascendant, and he fought to thrash his way free in vain until the Nobek relented and Erybet bent to his somehow undiminished erections.

Conyod quaked under the excruciating bliss as much as the flogging. He fought to make sense of the baffling assault of sensations: agony and ecstasy, twined so tightly together as to become a single uproar. When Erybet relinquished him in favor of Sletran's punishment, what the Imdiko experienced was no longer precisely pain. It was intense, and it was passionate, but neither hurt nor bliss defined what was happening to him. The cadence of his cries had no category.

As if given a signal, his tormentors simultaneously changed tactics. The flogging ended, and Sletran dragged him toward the middle of the mat. Clothes flew from Nobek and Dramok like startled birds taking flight. They drifted to land on the floor, out of Conyod's sight.

Erybet grasped his cuffed wrists and moved them from the nape of his neck so Conyod's palms settled on the mat, placing him on all fours. Sletran grasped his hips, his muscled thighs pushing the Imdiko's apart. Conyod felt the slick tip of him at his entrance. He gasped when Sletran claimed him…not brutally but steadily, demanding he yield until the Nobek's groin met the younger man's ass. Conyod whimpered at the renewed sting of the welts his lover had left and the aching fullness of his girth, though the sensations were heady rather than uncomfortable.

Fingers carefully curled against his scalp, fisting a handful of his hair. His face was tugged up to an eyeful of Erybet's livid cocks. Their spicy-sweet scent was intoxicating as it washed over him. Instinctively, Conyod's lips parted to receive what the Dramok wished to give him. Erybet's tapered primary, pre-cum beading the slit at its tip, slid on his tongue and deeper. His flavor filled Conyod's mouth, and he swallowed to claim his master's gift.

Hot, demanding flesh claimed him from both ends. They took him firmly, then slower, then fast. Erybet held Conyod's hair out of the way and Sletran pressed his buttocks apart so they could watch him serve their lusts. They pumped shallowly, they ground deep, they rutted like animals. They sighed, they groaned, and they growled. The hair rose on his body in instinctive alarm at the bestial sounds.

He drew delight from serving them, in being theirs to command. His cocks bobbed in rhythm with their thrusts, the primary tapping his abdomen when Sletran was forceful. His ass continued to pulse from the flogging, an erotic beat that transmitted straight to his shafts, which never faded in their excitement. He was a textbook Imdiko. Though he had alpha instincts of his own, he ultimately lived for and found gratification from taking care of those he loved.

The fact he had Sletran and Erybet to serve brought a deeper contentment than climax could ever offer. Despite his aching cocks, he'd never been happier than at that moment.

Their groans announced their joy in him a split second before the warmth of their passion jetted in his ass and mouth. Conyod submerged in the feeling of heat filling his rear passage and running down his thighs, in the warm spicy-salty sweetness pouring in his mouth and throat. He lost himself in the song of their moans. He bathed in the musky scents of the men drowning in pleasure.

He loved them with the entirety of his being.

They slowed, gasping fulfillment, and settled to a stop. There was a stretch of stillness, then slight movement from the pair. Trapped between them, skewered by their thus far undiminished erections, Conyod had no idea what was happening until he heard the telltale sounds of kissing. He closed his eyes to contain the abrupt sting of tears. They were searching for each other, attempting to find more to their relationship than mere respect and a shared affection for him.

Please, let this happen. Let them love each other as I do.

A few seconds later, they emptied him of themselves. Dramok and Nobek rolled him onto his back. Sletran regarded his engorged shafts in surprise.

"Didn't lose it on us yet, youngling? I'm impressed."

"Hey, it isn't as if I'm a teenager, you know." He scowled, then grinned. "Just don't let a breeze hit them."

They laughed. Erybet kissed him and glanced at Sletran. "Do you mind if I have the first shot?"

"I think he'd enjoy welcoming you back as soon as possible." Sletran settled next to Conyod, his fingertips tracing the lines of the Imdiko's torso.

They'd stretched him long on the sleeping mat, leaving him cuffed and unable to move of his own volition. "Do you have to be in complete control?" Conyod asked as Erybet swung a leg over his hips to straddle him.

"I want your attention on what I'm doing to you. No distractions." The Dramok gripped his prisoner's primary and settled it against his entrance. "I want you to feel this as intensely as possible."

Conyod's cocks were already sending warning signals, threatening eruption at the mere grasp of Erybet's hand and the promise of the man's tight warmth. He had the idea his youthful eagerness would betray him too soon.

Damn it, I wish I had better restraint.He ached for this joyous reunion to last longer than his sexual appetite would allow.

His command over himself might have been lacking, but he was in the power of a Dramok, the breed for whom control was a mandate. Erybet lingered motionless, simply holding Conyod's primary at the threshold of invasion, watching his face with laser focus. As nothing new happened, the surge of lust threatening to undo the Imdiko receded to a quieter hum of arousal.

"Better," Erybet said approvingly.

He inched down, enclosing the tip of Conyod's cock in his taut flesh. Almost at once, excitement woke and clamored greedily. Erybet halted immediately and held still again. Conyod's hips strained to shift upward, to claim more of his incredible grasp where it felt best. However, they'd extended his arms and legs to their limits, robbing him of his ability to move. All he was capable of was tensing.

Sletran chuckled. "Difficult lesson, isn't it? Don't worry; we're patient teachers."

Conyod noted the Nobek's stroking of his chest and abdomen had halted when Erybet had frozen. He groaned as his cocks jerked, demanding what his lovers wouldn't give him quickly.

Only when desire subsided to a sane level and the tension in his muscles eased did Sletran resume caressing him, his fingers leaving electric trails. Then Erybet eased further onto Conyod, gaining a couple inches before the Imdiko gave himself away by straining.

"You're torturing me," he gritted between his teeth.

"Hush. You'll get exactly what you deserve," Erybet said. He'd taken enough he could release his hand's grip on Conyod's cock. He licked the wetness from his palm and fingers, his eyelids heavy in contentment.

Conyod drew a deep breath and attempted to gain command over his lust. How could he, when Sletran lay next to him, the Nobek he continued to marvel he'd won? When Erybet loomed, his elegant body and perfect features too beautiful to fully comprehend? And the delicious snugness of their joining, which drove him crazy despite his efforts to stay sane.

It took a minute…to Conyod, it seemed like an eternity…before Sletran drew circles around his nipple and Erybet sank a couple inches. Once more they halted and waited for him to calm enough to continue.

An eternity later, Erybet sat on his groin, his ass flexing on Conyod's raging shaft. The Imdiko's every breath exhaled on a whimper. He was on the verge, as close to erupting as he could be without it actually happening. He was aware of Sletran and Erybet watching him as his head tossed. He no longer cared if he lasted or not. His need to come had erased any vestige of self-control.

They wouldn't allow him to do so. They waited him out until his desperate craving gave him room to think. Only then did Sletran's tongue whorl his nipple and Erybet ease up and lower on him.

So very slowly. Just enough to let desire increase in increments, rather than surge uncontrollably. Conyod realized he was enjoying the anticipation of the coming climax almost as much as its actual fulfillment. He was conscious of Sletran's every lick and kiss to his chest and abdomen. He was achingly cognizant of Erybet's pull on his shaft, of every inch of his clutching passage when he enclosed Conyod again. Each second passing was more incredible than the last.

Better yet, when his groans increased as the minutes passed, they didn't stop. Their lovemaking remained steady, and he felt passion creeping its way to the end. Enthralled by their possession, he fought to delay it for as long as possible.

When they finally coaxed sweet unfurling ribbons of ecstasy from him, he rejoiced in each surge of bliss rather than being blinded by it. He was fully present for each rapturous jolt as it left him to join with Erybet. Afterward, hearing their adoring whispers as he floated on a sea of glowing pleasure, he marveled they cared so much to give him the precious experience.

How could he not love them?

* * * *

Conyod's leg bounced as the shuttle's window vid brought Clan Tuher's ranch in view. Erybet, who piloted since it was his personal vessel, glanced at the nervous gesture. He put his hand on Conyod's knee and smiled reassuringly. "It'll be okay."

"They had no idea until two days ago I've been seeing a Dramok seriously. You have no clue how protective they are."

"I do because you and Sletran have thoroughly warned me. Hey, they might surprise you. I don't have the history with your family Sletran does."

They both glanced at the big Nobek standing between their seats in the cockpit. His expression was relaxed, and he winked at Conyod. "Maybe there'll be less resentment, but don't sell yourself short where earning their bitterness is concerned, Erybet. You're a Dramok, the very man who could clan their son. Therefore, you can take the last hope they have of convincing him to come home and stay."

"We can turn around and forget the visit," Conyod muttered. His conversation telling Lafec he was bringing a potential clanmate to meet her and his fathers hadn't gone well. Though she hadn't outright refused to allow Erybet to visit, he'd sensed it was on the tip of her tongue. He thought only Tuher's gruff acceptance had kept her from the denial.

"I'll be fine. We all will be." Erybet squeezed Conyod's knee before releasing him to work the controls to land next to the shuttles belonging to Clan Tuher and their ranch hands. "I'll tell you who I'm concerned about meeting…the celebrated Dresk. If I can't win his approval, you'll drop me like a shovelful of kestarsh shit."

Conyod was surprised into laughter. "There he is, in the center of the corral. Black curly fur, white mane."

"I recognized him immediately, thanks to your pictures. Quite the handsome fellow. You will find a smaller, less intimidating mount for me to learn to ride, right?"

"If you can survive my mother and Vel, you can survive riding any kestarsh." Conyod woofed a breath as his four parents left the stables and approached the shuttle, which was settling on the ground. "We can still run."

"Come on, Conyod." Sletran gripped his elbow and pulled him to his feet.

Chapter Fifteen

"A Dramok in the ground forces. A group commander, no less."

Conyod glowered at Vel as the Nobek shook his head as if to say what is the world coming to? As he'd feared, his parent clan's reception of his newest lover had been chilly. Tuher and Sema were distant, but they'd been polite enough to return Erybet's bow of greeting. Vel had accorded the slightest of nods to both the Dramok and Sletran. Lafec stood staring at Conyod's sweethearts, her expression openly sullen. She had yet to speak.

They wore worn, dirty work clothes. It was early in the day, so there was no reason for Clan Tuher to look so slovenly. When Conyod had stared at Sema's pants, crusted with straw and remnants of the mash they fed the kestarsh once a day, he'd shrugged. "Life on the ranch. Work doesn't disappear just because guests show up."

Unwanted guests, Conyod corrected in his mind. Sema and Tuher might have presented the least opposition against his life choices, but they'd make clear their shared opinion he belonged on the ranch under their watchful eyes, nonetheless.

Erybet hadn't reacted to his parents' obvious resistance to his presence. He smiled, spoke of his delight to meet them, and complimented the ranch. "This country is beautiful. It makes this military brat wish he'd had the opportunity to experience life off the base more."

Which had elicited Vel's comment hinting a Dramok had no place in the ground forces.

"My whole family was a part of Kalquor's defense. They forcibly retired my mother, of course, but we love it anyway. There's no more fulfilling career to my mind. This ranch is challenging my assumption, however. Conyod says your kestarsh are the most sought after on the continent."

"We've worked hard for our reputation. Conyod himself is an excellent trainer. We wish he'd chosen that route." Tuher's features were frozen.

Erybet met the other Dramok's gaze. "If I'm fortunate to win your son as my clanmate, I have no intention of keeping him from you. He'll visit as much as he chooses, no less. I hope to add to his life, not subtract others he loves from it. My first thought, my only thought, is to do right by Conyod in every area of his life I'm capable of."

Conyod's stomach churned as he waited for his parents' response to the bald statement. For a couple of heart-stopping seconds, there was none.

Then Lafec's shoulders sagged, as if she'd been handed an expected defeat. Her tone wasn't friendly, but there was no antagonism either when she motioned to Conyod, Erybet, and Sletran to follow her to the house. "Come in and let us offer you a proper greeting and refreshments, Dramok Erybet. We can take a few minutes from our chores."

* * * *

Dusk found the trio riding a trail beyond the borders of the ranch. Conyod and Sletran rode, at any rate. Erybet had to settle for clinging desperately to his saddle as his mount, a typically sedate mare named Adwal, let her displeasure known to be ridden by someone who had no idea what he was doing.

Conyod stifled a laugh as Erybet rocked precariously when Adwal's smooth gait was interrupted by a couple of kicks from her middle pair of legs.

"I know!" the hapless Dramok shouted at the mare. "I'm like a sack of gusasp, and you aren't a pack animal. I swear, I'm trying."

Dresk, whom Conyod rode, bumped his muzzle against Adwal's neck. Conyod sensed Dresk was offering both sympathy and a warning to the mare. Then the kestarsh stallion offered his head to Erybet to help steady him.

"Thanks," the Dramok said. He scratched Dresk between his pointed ears. "At least you accept me."

Dresk tossed his head in a nod.

"If the guys at the base could see you now," Sletran chuckled to Erybet.

"I'm glad they can't. My pride is taking a beating." He laughed though, in good spirits despite Adwal's hijinks.

Conyod believed between his parent clan and the kestarsh, if Erybet did decide to stick around, he was a definite keeper. Clan Tuher had maintained a polite distance while they and Erybet had gotten acquainted at breakfast, then during the riding lessons in the corral in the afternoon. Conyod consoled himself they'd treated his intended Dramok no worse than they did Sletran. As far as the beasts had been concerned, none of the mares had taken to Erybet's clumsy attempts to ride. As irritable as she was, Adwal had been the least troublesome, so when they'd decided to hit the trail for an hour, she'd drawn what she no doubt believed to be the short straw.

Erybet had remained cheerful throughout the ordeal. When the kestarsh's tricks during the riding lesson had elicited laughter from those who watched, he'd laughed loudest of all. His acceptance as the butt of the animals' abuse showed no sign of being forced. Conyod was certain his amused patience had gone a long way to earning Dresk's accord.

"How does it compare to combat training?" Conyod asked as Erybet held the grip hard when Adwal danced from side to side the moment Dresk turned away.

"Let's just say I'm glad this lady isn't able to shoot a blaster."

Conyod and Sletran howled as Dresk stared at Adwal until she steadied her stride again.

Sletran suddenly sat up straighter on his mount. "Who…what's that?"

Conyod gazed in the direction of his stare. A small shape in white flitted among the rocks in the foothills ahead, then disappeared.

He drew Dresk to a stop, and the others halted too. His heart pounded. "It was small."

"It looked like a child to me," Erybet said. "Who lives in this area?"

"No one. The ranch is the closest place for miles."

"If it is a child, it's late for him to be in an area where he could be hurt. Maybe he's the ghost boy the ranch hands told me about? Here's our chance to solve the mystery." Far from nervous, the Dramok appeared excited to glimpse the local legend.

"We should find out, especially if a kid's involved." Sletran spurred his mount and raced forward.

"Come on, Adwal. If you run fast, you might get your wish of me falling off," Erybet urged. Tossing her head, she took him up on the challenge and galloped in Sletran's wake.

Dresk went in motion despite Conyod not urging him to, chasing his mares. He easily overtook them and shortened his stride to stay close.

Conyod's gaze was on the mountain looming over him, but he wasn't searching for the figure that had damned near glowed in the growing dusk. His stare was for a certain outcropping stabbing at the sky about a third of the way up the mountain.

The Pinnacle on Mount Evar. It had been behind there where Ges' blood had been found after she'd limped home and Hoslek had disappeared.

The land started to incline. They were climbing toward the mountain. A scream welled in Conyod's throat. It was the closest he'd been to it since Hoslek's death, and he felt it reaching for them, eager to add to its monstrous tally.

"This is the spot where we saw whatever was here." Sletran drew up and began to circle the large boulders dotting the ground.

"A child could be in trouble," Erybet murmured to Adwal. "Let's help search."

She shot him a baleful glare over her shoulder as if to say of course we'll look, you idiot.

Conyod forced his gaze to relinquish its fascination from the Pinnacle, still many yards up, to inspect the ground in hopes of discovering tracks. The gathering gloom made it necessary for him to slip off Dresk's back to examine the rocky surface better.

Sletran ranged in widening circles, searching as he called, "Hey! Boy! Come out. Let us know you're okay."

There was no answer. Neither the rocky ground nor the sporadic patches of coarse knee-high grass offered Conyod any clues.

"It could have been an animal," Erybet muttered. "I saw those huge avians flying around earlier today. They're as big as a child near in his teens, and they're light colored."

"Tohiks," Conyod confirmed. Relief washed over him to have a valid alternative to a child roaming in the area. "It could have been one."

"It didn't look like a bird to me," Sletran said, but he brought his mount to a halt and studied the sky, slightly glowing as the sun sank behind the mountains. "No response to my shouts. It's getting too dark to search, thanks to the loose rocks and crevices that could injure the kestarsh if they step in them." He cupped his hands around his mouth and bellowed in a final attempt to elicit an answer. "Hey! If there's someone here, yell back!"

Only the singing nocturnal drils, waking to the sunset, answered him as the men waited in silence for nearly a minute.

"I guess it was a bird." Sletran appeared far from happy as he turned his mount's head toward the ranch. "Let's take it slow. It'll be dark before we reach the grasslands."

Conyod relaxed as they put the mountain and its mocking stone needle behind them.

* * * *

Conyod was awakened by loud voices and the thumping of running feet an instant before Sletran gripped his shoulder. "Something's up," the Nobek said unnecessarily.

Trained for military emergencies, he and Erybet were out of bed already. They yanked on their clothes. Conyod was only a beat slower as excited calls for saddling the kestarsh rang from the distant Tuher and Vel.

The trio hurried from Conyod's childhood sleeping room. The Imdiko knew from the feel of his parents' home no one was inside, and he led Sletran and Erybet outdoors.

The sun had yet to rise, but outdoor lights revealed a number of men from neighboring properties and the village had gathered on kestarsh near the corral. Clan Tuher and their ranch hands were already leading readied kestarsh, including Dresk, from the stables. Lafec whirled as her son and his friends hurried to her side.

"Shuttle crash up on Mount Evar. Emergency com channels recorded the pilot calling they were going down, then silence. The craft's emergency transponder must have been damaged because nobody can lock on its position."

"No sign of fire," Sletran noted as he stared in the distance where they'd searched for the ghost the evening prior.

"None. You're trained for rescue work, so Vel's assigned you to lead a party."

"I'm trained for rescues as well. If a kestarsh will cooperate with my pathetic riding skills—" Erybet began.

"In this situation, they'll do their job," Lafec said. "You'll take Adwal, since she knows best what to expect from you."

Conyod noted her attention swinging to him from the corner of his eye. He was staring at the mountain, which hung in menace as the first light of dawn lit its brutal face. Of course the shuttle had gone down there. The fucking peak was cursed, determined to destroy as many lives as it could.

"Tuher insisted they ready Dresk, my son. If you decide to stay here, I can use the help coordinating the search parties, emergency supplies, and readiness for when they return with the shuttle passengers." She didn't say survivors or bodies since it could go either way.

Or maybe the rescuers would come back emptyhanded, as they had after the search for Hoslek.

"I'll go on Dresk," he heard his thin voice say. "They'll need everyone."

"Conyod—" Lafec started to protest.

"We do need you. You'll join me and Erybet," Sletran said.

"That mountain—" Lafec tried again.

"Don't worry about me." Conyod pretended to exude the reassurance he needed as much as she did. "You have a job to do. Don't let me hold you up."

Protest was written on her features, but Lafec knew better than anyone what was at stake. She finally glared at Sletran and Erybet. "Watch over him. Be careful, my son." She hurried off, her mouth working as if to hold in a scream.

Conyod saw rather than experienced himself walking to Dresk and mounting him. He heard where Vel assigned them to search from an immense distance. He floated in a dream…a nightmare…behind Sletran and Erybet as they trotted toward Evar on the trail they'd traveled when they'd searched for the ghost.

We're venturing nowhere near where Hoslek was last known to be.He tried to reassure his mind, which unlike his numbed body was red-hot and frantic in fear. I'm not going to that spot. It's too far down from where a shuttle would crash. We'd see the vessel if it were there.

Nonetheless, the closer they approached the forbidding peak, the greater his disassociation from his body. In contrast, the hysteria in his skull climbed. Conyod fought to breathe normally. He tried to convince his pounding heart to steady. He did his best to force aside the grayness at the edges of his vision.

It's just a panic attack. Once we're climbing up, once we're past the level of the Pinnacle and nothing terrible happens, I'll be okay. Come on, Conyod, there are people up there who need help. Get control!

However, as they passed the level where they'd been in their search for the flickering shape of the night before, he couldn't ignore the fact that he was growing worse. His pulse thundered in his ears. His vision was tunneling, and he couldn't stop staring at the ominous Pinnacle despite not having to confront it. It filled his vision, a nightmare point jabbing the sky, hiding the very spot where Hoslek had probably lost his life…

"Conyod?"

The Imdiko gasped. Startled, he glanced at Sletran and Erybet. They'd stopped several feet ahead of him because Dresk had halted. The kestarsh was making distressed sounds, his long neck curved tightly so he could gaze at his rider.

"Hey. What's up? You look as if you're on the verge of passing out." Sletran trotted to his side and peered in his face. "Shit. I shouldn't have insisted you come. You shouldn't be doing this."

"I…I…" He heaved for air, his gasps bellowing.

"You haven't been up here in all these years, have you?" The Nobek gazed at him in wonder. "Not even once on this mountain. Of course it's too much, especially in an emergency of this nature."

"I…it's…" his gaze strayed to the Pinnacle.

Dresk shifted, pushing between the mares so Sletran and Erybet bracketed him. So they could catch him if he fell.

"You aren't going on," Sletran said, his tone firm. "Turn around, Conyod. Go to the ranch."

"Go home, Conyod." Erybet's touch was gentle on his shoulder. "There's plenty of assistance you can give there."

"But people need rescue. Dresk is the best at this." Conyod's numb lips finally formed a coherent sentence.

"It's all right," Sletran assured him. "Someone else can ride Dresk to search Evar. There were a few people left behind because there weren't enough kestarsh to ride."

Shame enveloped Conyod. It had been years since Hoslek had disappeared. Yes, there were those who got lost in the mountains, but hundreds climbed those peaks, including Evar, every year without mishap. He and Hoslek had explored beyond the Pinnacle themselves as small children and had come home safe and sound on dozens of occasions.

Why was he so panic stricken to climb Evar? Why did he feel like a child lost in terror?

"No one will think less of you going home," Sletran said firmly. "I certainly won't after what you lost here. There's no reason to be embarrassed."

"Me neither," Erybet reassured him, his smile as gently as his stroking fingers. "It's fine, Conyod. Go to the ranch and be careful as you do so. We'll see you later, okay?"

Conyod's pulse slowed. He couldn't deny the relief he didn't have to go up the mountain despite the humiliation of having fallen apart.

He was awash in shame, however. He, a psychologist, couldn't fight the phobia keeping him from facing Mount Evar. He hated that Sletran and Erybet were chancing the malefic peak without him, but to dare it was beyond him no matter how he feared for their lives.

His voice was rough, and he couldn't look either of his lovers in the eye. "You be careful. No heroics. Promise me you'll come down in one piece."

"We will. I promise." Sletran leaned to press a kiss to Conyod's forehead.

Erybet did as well. They rode off, leaving him behind.

As Hoslek had.

He watched them until they disappeared beyond the jagged outcroppings their upward trail hid beyond. His love for them and the terror the mountain would take them too shouted for him to join them. Wouldn't it be better to die beside them rather than go on alone?

The words to urge Dresk to follow them wouldn't come. He sat unmoving, hating the fear holding him prisoner from doing what he should.

"This goddamned mountain," he groaned. Dresk rumbled and tossed his head as if to agree.

Conyod glanced toward the distant ranch, just visible from his perch. The vague shape of a shuttle sped in its direction, flying fast. It was forced to circle in a wide arc above where the other shuttles were parked near the corral in order to slow enough to land. He guessed it must be family members of those who'd crashed on Evar. Perhaps a parent clan, fearing the worst and hoping for the best. Lafec would confront her own desperation from years ago on their faces. She'd dread having to watch them share the agony of loss that had darkened her years for so long.

He heard her despairing scream so clearly, he started. How could he detect it so far from where she was?

It's a memory.One that had dimmed and fallen apart. A long-ago memory, mostly lost but gaining in clarity and knitting itself together as he sat there. His heart galloped, as if the sound had carried across the miles as well as the last eighteen years.

* * * *

Conyod, age 7

"Ges is back, Mother!" Conyod shouted before running from the corral where he'd been waiting hopefully.

Sema on his kestarsh had come into view, and Lafec gasped. He led Ges by her bridle very slowly.

Hoslek wasn't on her. Conyod peered for a sign of his brother riding behind Sema, chastised and shamed for his misbehavior, which had led to every able-bodied soul who could search to do so.

Why wasn't the rest of the rescue party returning alongside them?

Lafec raced past Conyod, flying in a blur to her clanmate and presumably her son. She was steps from them when she suddenly screamed. The sound was awful, like nothing Conyod had ever heard coming from a person's throat. It went on and on, drenching the grassland beyond the ranch in grief and horror. Conyod's steps slowed as terror grabbed him at the dreadful cry, but he didn't stop. He'd wish often in the coming sweat-drenched nights he had.

Lafec dropped to her knees, still screaming. Sema leapt from his mount and raced to her to gather her in his arms. Though Conyod was several yards from them, he heard his Imdiko father say, "He might have gotten away. We've found no sign of him yet. He might have escaped, my love. Don't give up hope."

Though he'd left his mount and Ges behind, the kestarsh edged close to the pair. Ges' head was down and every step seemed arduous, unsteady. Her flanks swung oddly, so she swayed to the side. She stumbled and nearly fell.

Conyod saw the jagged marks marring her dust-brown coat. Her flesh was open and bloody against her muted hue, livid scarlet slashes revealing raw meat within. They were the sort of gashes he'd been shown on the few trees of the area and rocks. He recalled the warnings given by his fathers and mother since he'd learned to ride: "If you see these, a zibger is in the territory. Turn and come home immediately."

He halted in his tracks, staring at Ges' hideous injuries. An unbidden question fell from suddenly numb lips. "Did it get Hoslek?"

Fortunately, his voice failed before he could ask the other question screaming in his skull. Did it eat him?

Lafec uttered a bizarre sound, a cross between a shriek and a groan. She shoved Sema away and half-crawled, half-staggered to Conyod. She grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him. "You must never go up Mount Evar! You must never climb that mountain! Never leave my sight, Conyod! Never! Never!"

She kept screeching "never" as Sema struggled to pry her grip from the bawling child, who fought to tear free. When at last he and his father did manage to rip him from her grasp, Conyod ran to the house to hide. He ran to escape the sight of Ges lying on her side, dying of the horrific injuries.

More than anything, he ran to escape the fearsome creature his mother had transformed into.

* * * *

Conyod, age 25

He shivered and woke from the memory he'd mostly forgotten. For the past years, he'd easily recalled Sema leading the mortally injured Ges home. The vision of his mother collapsing on the ground had been a snapshot recorded in his mind, alongside that of his other fathers returning later without Hoslek. He'd remembered them pointing to the Pinnacle where they'd found the kestarsh's blood. But until this moment, he hadn't remembered Ges' exact injuries or his mother shaking him and screaming in his face during a grief-stricken fit of madness.

Which had sent him into panic whenever he'd dared to approach Mount Evar and the Pinnacle? Had it been the knowledge Hoslek had died there or the suppressed memory of his anguished mother, her beloved face transformed to a monstrous mask during the greatest horror of Conyod's young life?

He shivered again and realized the temperature was dropping. An unseasonable cold spell had been forecast, which had made the search for the crash survivors all the more imperative.

I should be looking too.Conyod gazed at the trail Sletran and Erybet had taken. His pulse quickened at the idea of following them…and Lafec filled his vision once more, rabid in her agony. His chest tightened in fear.

I can't go up the mountain. I shouldn't live trapped forever by her consuming grief either. I've never laid Hoslek to rest in my heart, and it's wrong. He deserves better than my regret and dread, which is what he's come to represent to me.

Hoslek's was the face of Conyod's pain instead of a brother he'd loved more than anyone else. It was a terrible memorial.

He turned from the trail leading up, facing the hated Pinnacle on the hated mountain instead of the way home. His chest refused to loosen, and his heart boomed.

"I think I have to do this," he told Dresk, who'd patiently waited as the minutes had passed. "I'm scared as shit though. I'm twenty-five-years old, and I'm shaking like a kid." He was nearly crying. Tears blurred his vision at the thought of going where his brother had likely spent his final seconds of life.

You must never climb that mountain!

The analytical part of his mind answered the hysterical shriek. If I don't go, I'll never regain the real Hoslek. Instead of the brother I adored, he'll remain a symbol of what went wrong in my life.

He sucked in a pained breath, verging on panic again. His voice came out in a sob. "Dresk, I need you to take me there. No matter how bad I freak out, I must see it for myself. You have to help me past this, or I'll carry it around forever. You do the walking, and I'll concentrate on not falling off. Deal?"

Dresk gazed at him over his shoulder. His expression was calm, as if to say I have you.

"All right. Straight ahead, to that spike of rock and behind it."

Conyod buried his fingers in the rough curls of fur on Dresk's neck as the kestarsh began picking his way off the trail, toward the Pinnacle. The Imdiko averted his gaze from the jutting target, training his eyes on the back of his friend's head. He glanced up on occasion to verify Dresk was going in the right direction. Kestarsh were smart, and Dresk was among the most intelligent of the animals Conyod had trained, but they didn't understand everything people asked of them.

Nonetheless, Dresk and Conyod had always been a well-paired mount and rider, their bond almost intuitive since Conyod had raised the beast from infancy. Dresk had witnessed his despair when it came to their destination. The Imdiko was certain he knew what was being asked of him.

For his part, Conyod concentrated on keeping the worst of the panic at bay. He fought to breathe regularly and to loosen his grip on Dresk when he saw his knuckles whitening. Dresk made no complaint. The kestarsh concentrated on carefully tested his footing as he climbed rises and hollows, kicking loose rocks from his path so he wouldn't tread on unsteady ground.

There'll be nothing to see. It'll be just another place, albeit the location where an unspeakable tragedy occurred. It isn't cursed. There isn't a vengeful ghost or death waiting for me.

Conyod rode where Dresk bore him, his head bowed forward so his long hair hid his peripheral vision. He ignored the urge to mark the boulders and crags they rode past. About halfway to their goal, he stopped checking Dresk's progress. The kestarsh continued to march to where Conyod had asked him to go, so he simply rode, held on and kept a steady mantra of encouragement chanting in his brain. Fear draped him and added to the desperate need to flee to the ranch, but he didn't tell Dresk to stop.

I have to do this. Once and for all, I have to see where it ended.

He became so focused on holding panic at bay, he was surprised when Dresk stopped and rumbled. Conyod lifted his eyes.

The pinnacle of stone marking the dread spot reared over him on his left. He was there. He was at the last known place Hoslek was believed to have been alive.

He sat atop Dresk and took a slow look at his environment. Grim gray rock, tufted here and there by coarse grasses, surrounded him. A large boulder squatted on his right…perhaps the stone where Ges' blood had been splattered. If so, there was none to view now. The hated Pinnacle stood high like a sentinel, casting its needle shadow on the ground.

It would have been a prime spot for a zibger to wait in ambush for a kestarsh and small boy. Hoslek might have been on top of the fierce feline predator before he'd known he'd ridden into danger. It could have been finished before he'd had any idea of what was happening…a quick glimpse of the shaggy striped coat of his attacker, then…nothing else.

There was no sign of a threat. No marks of a life-or-death struggle more than a decade and a half old. The air was still, the hush profound.

Conyod slid from Dresk's back. He walked the area, taking in the ancient notches of wear on the stones around him. He touched the pinnacle, which had served as his brother's despised memorial for him. For the first time, it wasn't hateful. It felt hallowed, imbued by a sacred sadness.

He went to the boulder and sat on it, facing the edifice. "Here I am, Hoslek. I finally made it to you."

Quiet answered him, broken only by Dresk's strong teeth snapping the tough grasses. The kestarsh was apparently satisfied Conyod was okay, and he grazed unconcerned.

"I'm sorry we argued the last time I saw you. I'm sorry I was such a brat. I looked up to you…my big brother. I was jealous, yes, because you were older and could do so much I couldn't. But I loved you. We all did, so much so, we never truly recovered when you were lost. Which isn't your fault. I hope you know that. None of it was your fault."

He drew a deep breath and continued. "I also hope you knew while you were alive how important you were to us. Especially to me. Not an event goes by when I don't wish you were there to share it. When I don't wish I could have done something to save you, to have kept you from riding off that day."

It grew colder, and the pinnacle's shadow shortened as the day marched on. Conyod hardly noticed as he talked and talked, sharing his heart at long last with the memory of the boy who'd been a ghost after all…a ghost he'd kept close for eighteen years, unable to let either of them rest until now.

When the words and the tears finally dried, Conyod glanced around his surroundings. Dresk stood dozing a few feet away, head sunk low, his magnificent black coat gleaming in the sun.

It was quiet. Peaceful. The stillness was a balm to Conyod's soul.

Dresk started. He woke and looked in the direction they'd taken to come to the place. A second later, Conyod heard what had alerted him: the sound of light footsteps. Conyod jumped off the rock and shot to Dresk's side, pulling his com from his belt and switching it on to the frequency the rescuers were using. Chatter told him they were still searching for the downed shuttle.

Now they might have to recover me too.A vision of a zibger springing from around the needle rock filled his mind, along with his mother's maddened scream of never go up Mount Evar!

Chapter Sixteen

Dresk rumbled a welcome rather than a warning an instant before a boy walked into view. The child paused and looked at Conyod.

"Flist." It was one of the boys who regularly visited the ranch for riding lessons, the child who'd recently lost his Nobek father. He lived miles away. His expression was a disturbing mix of agony and desperation. Conyod approached him. "What are you doing here so far from home?"

"Are you searching for the crashed shuttle? I know where it is."

"What? Where?"

Flist pointed vaguely. "I'd better take you…it's hard to reach, I think. I saw it in the distance, but I couldn't find a path to them. I tried. I tried." His lower lip trembled, and tears filled his eyes. "Why can't I ever help? They'll die too because I can't do anything."

Conyod went to him and knelt. He held the boy's trembling shoulders. "You are helping, Flist. You found them, you found me, and we're going to help those people now."

He spoke into his com. "Hey, it's Conyod. I have Flist here by the Pinnacle, and he said he saw the crash site. As soon as I have a specific heading, I'll relay it to you. Standby."

Conyod picked up the child, noting how small and light he was. "Dresk, let's track!" he called, and the kestarsh trotted to him. Conyod swung up onto his back, setting Flist in front of him.

"Okay, my young friend. Show me where they are."

They rode perhaps fifteen minutes over some of the most treacherous terrain Conyod had dared. Flist suddenly pointed to a ridge, beyond which Conyod knew to be a deep crevasse. "They're down there, in the crack behind the high part. All I could see was the tail of the shuttle."

Conyod whistled. It was a bad spot to have landed, hard for even the worthiest kestarsh to get to. No wonder Flist hadn't been able to venture closer to the site. "If they survived, they'll have you to thank for it. It might have been days before rescuers would have gotten to that area." He quickly relayed the information to the search parties, which he'd been keeping apprised of his progress so they could arrive sooner.

"We're on our way." Sletran's voice was welcome, as was Tuher's confirmation his fathers were also hurrying to the crash.

"Good job, Conyod." Vel also joined in, pride in his tone.

"All the credit goes to our young friend, Dramok Flist." Conyod stopped transmitting and told the child, "Though I can't say I approve of your wandering such a dangerous place. You could have been injured."

"I wanted to do something when I heard a shuttle crashed. I felt I had to."

"Because of your father?"

The boy began to softly cry. Conyod hugged him and let him have his grief. He wondered if Flist's broken heart would find peace if they managed to find anyone alive in the crash.

* * * *

There were screams of joy and sobs of relief two hours later as the rescue parties returned with four of the five survivors of the accident. The fifth had been bundled in an emergency vehicle for transport to the local hospital due to the seriousness of his injuries…but the initial examination left medics certain he'd recover. The other victims had been treated for superficial wounds and released at the hastily erected medical camp at the foot of Mount Evar.

Flist's parents were at the ranch, waiting alongside the families of the shuttle occupants. They rushed forward as Conyod eased their son to the ground. "He's fine. He's a hero," the Imdiko grinned to the exclaiming trio, who hugged their son while simultaneously admonishing and praising him for finding the survivors and alerting the rescuers.

There was an impromptu celebration, as befitted the happy outcome of what could have easily been a horrific tragedy. The downed shuttle, which had lost power due to what appeared to be a faulty engine coupling, had been invisible from search vessels in the air. Flist sighting the tail section had indeed been fortuitous; he'd been in just the right place to spot it. Sheer chance of a grieving child's wandering route had saved lives.

Sletran ignored the Nobek code of imperviousness to sweep Conyod in a hug after he dismounted Dresk. "You did it. You were brave and went up Mount Evar to the Pinnacle."

"Took me forever, didn't it?" The Imdiko snorted at the idea he'd acted courageously.

"What's important is you did do it. Because you were there for that boy to find, those people will live." Erybet added his hug and a kiss before beaming proudly at Conyod. "Don't you dare downplay your role in this."

"You faced Evar and you beat it." Sletran beamed at him.

Conyod glanced at the brooding peak and considered it for several seconds. "I still hate it," he decided. "I hope there's no reason for me to ever go back there…but I have no fear of it. That counts for something, I suppose."

"Losing your fear of where Hoslek died works for me," Sletran said. "It's haunted you long enough, and I'm glad if you can let it go."

"I hope Flist will let his pain go too," a deep voice mused behind them.

Conyod turned to discover Vel had come close. The small group regarded Flist and his parents. The child was actually smiling. It wasn't a big smile, but more than Conyod had witnessed him manage on the few occasions he'd seen him.

"I worried how he'd react if the shuttle's occupants were found dead. He carries unnecessary guilt for the loss of his Nobek father, so I kept him away while the rest of you went down the ravine." Conyod had struggled with allowing the boy to go as close as they had, but Flist would have heard the news, good or bad, later anyway. Who would have been better than a psychologist to take care of him if another shock had been dealt?

"They made it alive, so perhaps our ghost boy will stop wandering to the ranch and on the mountain. Maybe he'll finally put his guilt over his father's death to rest," Vel sighed.

Conyod, Erybet, and Sletran regarded him in surprise. "It was him haunting the stables? You knew? He'd have walked miles to reach the ranch," Conyod spluttered.

"I discovered who it was during his last nighttime visit a few weeks ago. I took him home to his parents, who had no idea he was coming to visit Yemasel in the middle of the night when he couldn't sleep." Vel chuckled, but it was a sad sound. His gaze met Conyod's. "Those kestarsh…they've always been the haven of grieving boys who feel they have no one else to rely on."

"I can understand why Flist would do so, but I'd asked to sleep in the stable before Hoslek disappeared," Conyod told him. "Grief wasn't required for me to want to be close to them."

"I wasn't referring to the desire of a child to sleep somewhere novel. Remember, there was a ghost boy several years ago, before Flist was born. Except you spent as much time standing by the corral staring at Mount Evar as you did in the stable."

"Me? I never left the house at night. You kept me from doing so because Mother would have had a fit. All of you would have."

"If we'd known. I had my suspicions when the ranch hands started talking about a ghost boy wandering the place, so I stayed up several nights to stand guard. There was finally a night, a couple hours before dawn, when I witnessed you leave your room, shut off the home's alarm system, and walk outside. I called your name and asked what you were doing. You looked right through me."

"What?"

Vel uttered the sad chuckle again. "You were sleepwalking. I know you remember waking during a few of those episodes."

"I do, when I was in my teens. There were other times?"

"Many, after we lost Hoslek. I had no clue how to cope, so I followed you. I watched you stare at the mountains. Sometimes you'd call for Hoslek to come back. It tore my heart to pieces to hear you do so. Afterward, you'd usually go to the stable, pet the kestarsh, then return to bed."

"Those sightings went on for years." Conyod gaped at him. "You never said a word."

"Again, I had no idea how to cope. You were suffering. Barely eating. I worried if I told you, it would make you worse. I didn't dare tell my clanmates what was happening, especially Lafec. They would have gone crazy."

"You knew who it was all along."

"I told myself if I watched over you when you wandered and kept you safe, it was okay. I was probably wrong to let you go on that way but…this family was on edge. I was desperate to keep us from falling completely apart, my son. My only surviving son. If it was a disservice to you, I'm sorry."

Conyod stared at him. He saw Vel's undying grief, his constant desperation to keep the sole child left to him safe from harm. He realized no amount of therapy or counseling would transform Vel's behavior.

It'll probably never change Mother either. Neither recognizes their actions as harmful through the filter of their loss. I can't alter what happened…I'll have to live with it. Just like they must live with me trying to escape their smothering fears.

He managed a smile for his father, who was caught in a mire of overwhelming love that harmed its subject as much as it tried to help. "I'm glad you told me. Thank you."

Vel dipped a nod.

Erybet broke the stretch of awkward silence. "What happens to Flist now? Have his parents looked into counseling for him? I've met a guy who's pretty damn good at that sort of thing." He grinned at Conyod.

Their soft laughter eased the tension. Vel said, "I suggested Conyod, but the distance is far for them to travel regularly. They found someone closer. They also took me up on my offer to have Flist come to the ranch starting next week to learn to train and exercise the kestarsh under my guidance. He's welcome to visit as often as his studies allow. I have a feeling he'll be here every day."

The group considered the boy, who'd entered the corral. He stood next to Yemasel, his head pressed to hers, his arms around her neck. The small smile he'd discovered remained. Conyod saw peace there.

He thought it might be the same long-sought peace filling his own heart.

* * * *

Four months later

"They'll be deployed off-planet for weeks at a time since they're part of the ground troops. If there's a war against Bi'is or the Tragooms step up their incursions on the empire, they could be gone for months."

Conyod let his mother's complaints wash over him, his attention steadfast on the happier sounds of celebration following the formal ceremony in the grand hall of the military base. He wasn't grouchy she carried on despite it being too late to change the fact he was Imdiko Conyod of Clan Erybet. It was all he could do to keep from laughing.

Laughing would have been far worse than arguing with Lafec.

He knew the urge came from sheer happiness, not because he found his mother ridiculous. He had the perfect clanmates in Sletran and Erybet. He'd won the lottery where good fortune was concerned. How could he ward off giddiness when his dreams had come true?

"Are you hearing what I'm saying, my son? You'll be alone." She said it as if it were a death sentence.

"I'm aware, and I've made my peace as far as the situation is concerned. Many clans are like ours. In fact, I work at the hospital alongside the Dramok clanmate of their commanding officer. Dr. Kivokan has gone through many such separations when High Commander Akrij is on deployment. Kivokan's offered his support when Erybet and Sletran go off-planet for a tour." Conyod nodded toward the high-ranking clan who'd honored them by attending the ceremony.

"I don't like it. Vel will be coming to check on you." Her mouth was set in a straight line.

"I'm sure he will." Conyod had already resigned himself to his Nobek father's frequent visits.

He noted Tuher coming their way, his gaze fixed on Lafec. Conyod thought of signaling he was okay dealing with his mother but decided against it. He wanted to go to his clanmates, to bask in the joy of being their Imdiko.

"My Matara," Tuher said upon reaching them. "Erybet's mother has been looking for you. She said she hasn't had the opportunity to speak to you yet."

Lafec scowled at him, no doubt realizing he was diverting her from their son. At her Dramok's level gaze, she gave in. It helped she and Erybet's mother got along so well. "Where is she?"

"By the refreshment table. I think she's found a bottle or two of prime bohut and is fending off everyone else so you, she, and Sletran's mother can enjoy it in some private corner."

A smirk tugged at Lafec's lips. "The woman knows her bohut. I'm glad she took charge of the reception's beverages. I need a strong drink or seven." Her glare skewered Conyod as she headed off. "I'll see you much later, my Dramok."

Tuher chuckled and whispered to his son, "She probably won't see me or anything else until the morning after she's slept it off. I'd better have the pain inhaler and stim tabs ready."

"I'm sure you laid in a supply in honor of my clanning ceremony." Conyod kept a straight face.

Tuher regarded him, amusement fading. "It's hard for us to give up on the hope you'd come home to stay. My head says it's good, but my heart breaks."

"I love Erybet and Sletran, my father. I enjoy training the kestarsh, but my work as a psychologist is what fits me best. It's what I need to do."

"You're where you should be. Perhaps one day, I can come to accept it. Sema might too. Vel and Lafec…" He shrugged.

"I understand." Impulsively, Conyod hugged Tuher. "I love you all. I hope you realize it."

His father's grip on him was strong. "As long as we have your love, we'll manage. I may not be the best father, but I'll be the best I know how. You have my word on it, my son."

* * * *

"I think it went well," Conyod said when his clan returned to their well-furnished quarters, which had once been Erybet's alone. "The food was perfect, we didn't run out of liquor despite our mothers' impressive attempts to drink it all…" he paused, grinning as he waited out Erybet's and Sletran's laughter. "And I wasn't kidnapped by my parent clan."

"They made no attempt to murder me and Sletran either," Erybet chuckled. "The ceremony and reception were absolutely a win."

"Clan Tuher will eventually come around," Sletran said as he pulled off his dress boots and wiggled his toes in obvious relief. He opened his dress uniform's top, displaying his impressive chest.

"So optimistic," Conyod sighed, but he was pleased at how the day had turned out. "Clan Erybet is publicly recognized, and no one can do a damned thing about it."

"Can you relax now?" Erybet rubbed his shoulders and nuzzled his cheek.

"Maybe." Conyod smiled at him. It did feel as if a weight had rolled off…his Dramok's massage certainly helped the notion. When Erybet's hands slid to his waist and drew him in an embrace from behind, the Imdiko sank in the warmth and comfort of it.

Against the odds, he'd overcome his childhood trauma and claimed the perfect clanmates. Wanting to submerge himself in the knowledge, he held his arms to Sletran. Smiling, the Nobek came to him. His arms circled Conyod and Erybet.

"Thank you both," Conyod said.

"For today?" Sletran asked.

"For all of it. You, for rescuing me when I was a kid and putting up with my infatuated neediness. Erybet, for giving the three of us a chance."

Erybet snickered. "Once I understood what I had a chance at, you two would have been worth fighting through any obstacle. Those kestarsh, on the other hand, especially Adwal…"

Conyod laughed. "Maybe they'll come around when my parents do. Hey, Dresk likes you. That definitely counts."

"I'll take it."

They fell quiet. For a while, the trio simply stood there in the great room, holding each other. They basked in their union, which had seemed so impossible at times.

Conyod hoped his joy would last forever. How could it not, with Sletran and Erybet as his lifemates?

It got better as his lovers began to explore his body, as sentiment heated to sensuality. Conyod returned the favor, twisting one way, then the other to experience them both. He reveled in his beautiful and commanding Dramok, in his strong and protective Nobek.

The dress uniforms and his nice outfit of a deep green shirt and black trousers fell from them to scatter like leaves on the ground once his shiny black shoes and Erybet's boots thumped free. Their mingled arousal scents rose to enhance the atmosphere of eroticism as excitement grew. Mouths were hot on bared flesh, and moans woke the air.

"Sleeping room," Erybet finally mumbled against Conyod's lips.

They reeled and stumbled and laughed at their reluctance to cease fondling long enough to walk the few feet to the doorway. They didn't so much lie down as fall on the bed, where they twined as if to knot themselves together so they might never be torn apart.

At length, Sletran and Conyod teamed up to pin Erybet. Knowing his supremacy versus either of his controlling clanmates was short-lived, Conyod took every advantage he could of the moment. He drowned himself in the beautiful man he could scarcely believe was his forever, licking and kissing the struggling Dramok wherever he could reach. His lips traveled his lover's throat and paused at the hollow where his pulse beat strong and steady. His tongue traced Erybet's pebbled nipples, rendering their points stiff. Letting Sletran take hold of Erybet's wrists, Conyod wandered downward, convincing his clan leader not to fight being on the bottom so strenuously by sucking throbbing, burning flesh. He fed on the sweet-spicy wetness that rewarded his efforts, then swallowed until Erybet groaned.

Ever devious, the Dramok lay lax under Conyod's ministrations. Sletran grew careless. Erybet abruptly heaved loose of both men. Concentrating his attack on the surprised Nobek, he quickly gained the upper hand. Conyod, happy to have the opportunity to enjoy his warrior clanmate, switched to fight on Erybet's side. Sletran growled halfheartedly, already enthralled by the benefits of Conyod's eager mouth and tongue. The Nobek succumbed more readily as Erybet kissed him.

The Imdiko had tricks of his own. Erybet stretched over Sletran, pinning his wrists on either side of his head. The position placed his erect shafts next to the Nobek's, allowing Conyod to switch between the two men as whim dictated. Erybet had no choice but to let his youngest clanmate play and tease if he were to keep Sletran under control.

Tease, he did. Conyod had grown familiar with how much pressure to use, how fast to go at them to bring them to the brink; then how to ease off to thwart passion's victory before it was too late. He soon had them writhing, groaning, and growling.

He was merciless as his own desire fed on theirs. He tasted Erybet's sweetish-salty pre-cum and compared it to Sletran's slightly spicier offerings. He sucked eagerly on their jerking forest of cocks, moving among the four shafts served to him like an endless buffet. He felt how their pulses beat on his tongue from the thick veins on their lengths. His fists curled around two at a time, pumping them so their hips jerked and they cried out. They jolted in excitement when he carefully threatened by nipping, just enough to give them thrills of dangerous play…though their trust was plain when they failed to battle to escape.

Mine. Forever.He bit Sletran's inner thigh harder to leave a pink oval, marking him. Still trapped by Erybet's commanding hold, the Nobek snarled, his features bestial from animal delight.

Conyod courted trouble when it came to a control-happy Dramok, but he couldn't resist the urge to do the same to Erybet. His domineering clanmate hissed and told Sletran, "His turn."

"Agreed."

Conyod didn't try to avoid being overcome. He'd had his fun tormenting the pair, and the time had come to do what an Imdiko did so well: take care of his clanmates by giving them what served them best. The fact having his ass spanked by Erybet while Sletran held him prisoner was what was required made no difference. The warmth of the punishment for daring to mark his Dramok only enhanced his arousal. His cocks, swollen despite having been touched little, grew more engorged as he was taken to task. He felt more the joy of being the center of their attention than the painful swats from Erybet's heavy palm.

Discipline took a turn for the erotic. Sletran, whose weight on his back held him curled facedown on the mat with his ass in the air for Erybet's attentions, grabbed his primary and stroked. Conyod shouted as desire amplified, turning the smarting pain of the spanking to exquisite bliss. The calloused hand worked him mercilessly, and he was abruptly in danger of shattering.

The timbre of his moans warned Sletran when exactly to let up. He gripped the base of Conyod's primary, denying the eager slide of cum seeking to erupt. Conyod wriggled desperately, his body begging for the lightning strike of ecstasy he knew he couldn't have yet.

"This dancing ass wants to be fucked," Erybet grunted. "Keep him where he is, my Nobek."

"On the edge of coming? No problem." Sletran's chuckle was evil.

Erybet ceased spanking. His legs shoved between Conyod's. The Imdiko had only an instant to yield to invasion before his clanmate shoved in deep. The slick hardness running up the crack of his ass as he was filled told him Erybet fucked him with his smaller secondary.

It isn't that damn small.He groaned at the burning strain of taking the thick girth. Then he yelped as it rubbed against his cumspot, sending a surge of rapture straight to his cocks. Sletran's grip kept roiling passion from escaping.

"Naughty…naughty…naughty…Imdiko," Erybet gasped, each word punctuated by a thrust.

Conyod gathered the threads of his senses and defiantly bellowed, "I regret nothing!"

Surprised laughter exploded from his lovers. The added weight on his back told him Erybet had collapsed on top of Sletran as he laughed.

Blanketed by the pair, Conyod was shaken by their continued amusement. He grinned, unseen by his chortling clanmates. Who said sex had to be serious? Better yet, it gave him a moment of breathing room from the overwhelming craving he couldn't release.

"You lunatic," Sletran panted as he recovered. "What are we going to do with him, Erybet?"

"Fuck him senseless and keep him happy?" The pressure on Conyod lessened and the thick shaft in him shifted as the breathless-sounding Dramok rose.

"Best therapy in the world," Conyod confirmed, setting off added chuckles.

"Never let it be said I don't follow doctor's orders."

Erybet's hips rocked, feeding Conyod's ass his excitement. Sletran resumed masturbating him, and amusement fled before a tide of electrifying sensations, especially when Erybet found the perfect angle to apply friction to his cumspot. They kept at him until his soft cries warned them. Sletran clenched the base of his primary, and Erybet slid loose. He spanked Conyod once more, demanding the young man control his lust.

Then he was in him again. His larger shaft filled Conyod. There was no escaping the exquisite friction of the greater girth rubbing where craving lived. The Imdiko beat his fists on the mat as his Dramok rode him hard and Sletran continued to block him from orgasm.

"Going to fill…this tight hole…with my cum," Erybet gasped. "My Imdiko…my Conyod…always…"

A groan exploded from the Dramok as Conyod wailed rapturous frustration at his inability to join him in passionate release. His primary throbbed in time to the rod pulsing in his ass, but his Nobek's grip kept him from realizing climax.

"Fuck. I love you so much, you beautiful man. Both of you," Erybet sighed a minute later. His fingers combed through Conyod's long spill of wavy hair, then traced the line of his spine to where he was embedded in his clanmate.

Despite his erotic suffering, Conyod's entire being warmed at the words and the feeling with which they were spoken. He was just as happy Sletran had been included.

"If you love me, then get out of the way before I explode," Sletran teased in a voice gruff from unhidden emotion.

Erybet chuckled. There was the sweet sound of the pair sharing a kiss, then the Dramok pulled free of Conyod.

It was the clan leader's turn to grip the base of Conyod's larger cock to keep his youthful lust under control as Sletran took his place between his thighs. The Nobek's grasp moved to his neck, pinning him as Erybet squirmed beneath their trapped clanmate. Conyod felt the rough wetness of Erybet's warm tongue lap the tip of his aching shaft and moaned.

"There we go," Sletran sighed as he eased in. His groin bumped Conyod's ass. "That's just what I need."

What about what I need?Conyod was incapable of speech as Erybet's mouth enclosed him in the most delicious of kisses. A small voice beyond the clamor of desperate hunger purred its satisfaction that he was getting what was important: the ability to serve the pleasure of his lovers, to give them all he was capable of.

Sletran started slow, breathing soft whispers of his appreciation for the incredible sensation of fucking his Imdiko. Though the Nobek code forbade him from speaking what he was expected to demonstrate, the statement I love you was in every syllable he uttered. Conyod basked in boundless joy despite the delicious torment of Erybet sucking his trapped primary.

Little by little, Sletran's gentleness abated as carnal demand took hold. His flesh slapped Conyod's spanked ass loudly, delivering renewed intensity rather than pain. The constant friction on the Imdiko's internal hotspot, along with Erybet's tireless lips, tongue, and insistent swallowing, was gorgeous torment. Conyod strained against his beloved torturers and begged for mercy.

Only when Sletran's steady pace faltered, when his hand on Conyod's neck tightened, when he ground out, "Yes, my Imdiko! Yes!" did Erybet release the practiced grasp keeping exhilaration at bay. He drew Conyod down his clutching throat. Then all was thunder and lightning, an explosion of brilliance in which Conyod was lost.

His existence was a throbbing ecstasy that clawed every mote of strength from him in shattering bursts. Conyod dissolved in the maelstrom, the sense of himself vanishing in the vast cosmos where only pleasure dwelled.

Then, rapture ebbed. Conyod didn't try to hold onto it because it was replaced by a deeper, better joy: the feeling of his clanmates surrounding him. Their whispers and caresses reassembled what had been shattered, making him whole.

He was whole he realized as he smiled at the two men who'd come to mean everything to him. Scarred by his past, but complete. Love had broken him when he'd lost his brother and, in a sense, the parents he'd known. Now love had put the fragments together again. He was Imdiko Conyod of Clan Erybet, in one imperfect but entire piece, thanks to his Nobek and Dramok.

"Thank you," he whispered? knowing mere words would never express the depth of his gratitude.

"Always," they chorused, their gazes telling him they understood he spoke of matters beyond mere sexual gratification.

Conyod closed his eyes and basked in the moment. He knew life offered no guarantees, but he dared to hope his happiness could last forever.

The End

Don't miss the next book of the Clan Beginnings series, Clan and Conscience:

Fighting murderous enemies. Battling each other. It's the perfect recipe for romance, Kalquorian-style.

On the surface, young Dramok Ospar has it all: money, prestige, power. Yet what he dreams of most is outside his grasp. His drive to prove himself has left him lonely, with no one to turn to…except the Nobek bodyguard who is decidedly unimpressed with his accomplishments. Oh, and there's the matter of the local crime syndicate trying to kill him too.

Nobek Jol faces his worst security assignment ever: guarding the most irritating Dramok to draw breath. It's not that Ospar isn't handsome, intelligent, brave, and charitable. It's just that he'd be so much better gagged into silence.

Temple of Life priest Imdiko Rivek wishes for inner peace and total enlightenment. He knows he won't find it in the lethal world Ospar and Jol inhabit. However, fighting the allure of the pair to achieve perfect tranquility is proving to be more difficult than he could have imagined…plus the fact that their enemies think he's the perfect target to bring Ospar and Jol to heel.

Read on for an excerpt:

Dramok Ospar, general operations director of Itga Mining, blinked at his companion. Dramok Misru was glowing with supernatural brilliance, his face growing brighter.

Not just Misru. A bright flash illuminated the entire cavern of the platinum mine. Startled, Ospar wheeled to find the source of the blinding light. The mine wall he'd stepped away from five seconds ago, where he'd admired a thick vein of platinum, disappeared in a thunderous blast. Machinery and over a dozen men vanished, swallowed in the black billow of dust and rocks. He stared in astonishment.

A blast of air streamed his shoulder-length hair back. Ospar had the strange sensation of an invisible force lifting him off his feet, of a giant warm hand shoving him through the air toward the middle of the cavern.

What? What?

The stone walls, ceiling, and floor shook violently around him as he flew. He was flung through a shower of rock pellets. They stung his face. The thunder of larger chunks pummeled down in the wake of the explosion's boom, sending up a choking billow of dust.

The floor!It came up fast, rocketing toward him.

Ospar winced an instant before he landed. The Dramok hit the floor ahead of the shockwave, thudding painfully. He slid ten feet across the once well-smoothed surface, plowing through debris. When he stopped, he instinctively curled into a ball, his arms flung up to cover his head.

For several moments, all was chaos. The whole of the earth rumbled beneath and about him, as if rousing in poor temper from deep slumber. The vivid work lights installed in the cavern blinked on and off, strobing Ospar's surroundings. It made the stone seem to fall in stop-motion intervals.

A blast. Cave-in! We're going to die!

On the heels of his panicked thought, the shaking stopped. The lights strengthened again, coming to dimmed power as the shudders eased and the grumbling giant quieted.

Ospar remained curled and motionless for a few moments, listening to the larger stones settle, the smaller ones still pinging down. Catching his breath. Counting his blessings. He was alive.

He inventoried his body to reassure himself he could feel everything, and that what he felt wasn't pain. He noted burning hurts on his face, forearms, and hands, the parts of him where the skin had been exposed to the shrapnel. Otherwise, he detected no severe agony and no numbness. The cave-in…he assumed it was a cave-in and discounted his first impression of an explosion…had done him no real harm.

A scream echoed off the cavern walls.

A surge of adrenaline responded to the agonized sound. Someone was hurt. Ospar leapt to his feet. He noticed Misru had ended up next to him, knocked across the room alongside him. The elder Dramok blinked at his surroundings as he shakily came to his knees. A thin line of blood ran from his scalp, the red shockingly bright against the gray dirt covering his features.

Ospar bent and grasped his arm. "Are you all right, Misru?"

"I…I believe so, Director." He gazed up at Ospar uncertainly. "There aren't supposed to be explosives in here."

Ospar dismissed the man's confusion, peering at the mayhem of massive slabs of fallen rock and broken machinery. The conveyor belt used to carry ore to the refinery was a twisted skeleton of metal. The sifting machine feeding it was a crushed hulk. Black dust sifted, making the room appear cloudy and dim. The scream hadn't been repeated. He couldn't spot anything moving except the shifting curtain of semi-darkness. Another threatening rumble sounded, and a slight tremor rose from the floor up his legs. Fear spiked, but he held his ground. Others were present, somewhere.

Someone cried out. "Help! Help!"

Without thought for his own safety, Ospar ignored the warning mutterings of the damaged earth. He dashed toward the twisted metal carcass of what had been a digging machine, where the frantic cry had come from. He jumped over large pieces of rock to reach the vehicle, which had been knocked on its side. The operator was nowhere to be seen, but Ospar was sure it was where the call had emitted from.

He was right. The worker, his bloody features twisted in pain, was pinned beneath the vehicle from the thighs down. Ospar swallowed a cry of horror to see the blood, which wasn't confined to the man's face. It was everywhere.

I'm in charge. This is my mine. This man is dependent on me. I can't fuck up.

The thoughts helped settle Ospar, switching on the decision-making machine in his head. He stopped looking at the carnage and took in the state of affairs as a whole, as the director of Itga Mining.

The trapped Nobek shivered. The mine was indeed chilly, far cooler than the springtime warmth come lately to the mountain regions of the Wenza Territory. However, Ospar feared the worker was going into shock. He whipped off his jacket and covered the injured man's torso, pausing long enough to grip his shoulder in what he hoped was a reassuring squeeze. "Hold on. We'll get you out of this."

The question was, how? The digger was huge, too heavy for Ospar to lift. His mind clicking through possibilities, he surveyed the room for assistance. His gaze fell on the other digger, which had been working another wall. It didn't appear damaged, and its driver staggered from behind it into Ospar's view. He looked dazed, but unhurt. Besides Ospar and the kneeling Misru, he was the sole person moving.

How many had been in the cavern as Ospar was being shown around? A dozen? Two? Many had been standing where the thickest of the rubble now piled. Sickness roiled in Ospar's belly.

Concentrate on those you can find. The men you can help. This Nobek first. Manage this situation, then move on to the next.

"Hey! Dramok Heca," Ospar called, glad he had a good memory for features and names. "Are you hurt?"

"I…I think not too badly. Is that you, Director Ospar?" Heca stared at him uncertainly though the dust was beginning to clear the air. "What happened? I thought I heard an explosion."

The man at Ospar's feet, Nobek Patlen, groaned. He teetered on the verge of unconsciousness. Misru was only now climbing to his feet, looking dazed and lost. No help there.

Ospar concentrated on the most vital matter. "It isn't important what happened at this moment. Nobek Patlen is pinned and injured. Can you use your digger to haul this one off him?"

Heca's eyes cleared. He hurried over and gazed at the scene with a practiced eye, his concentration jarring for a flash as he recognized the trouble his fellow worker was in. "Mother of All!"

"Heca. Answer me. Can your machine pull this off him?"

"I might be able to. Hang on, Patlen."

Heca rushed to the intact digger and jumped in the cab. A second later it fired up, its drone surprisingly quiet for such a large machine. It still drowned the growing chorus of moans from other unseen victims.

"Stay ready to yank him loose in case I lose hold of it," Heca shouted to Ospar.

Ospar squatted behind Patlen, grabbing hold of the now-unconscious Nobek by the armpits. He set his feet and braced as Heca brought the digger close, choosing the path least littered by rock.

As Heca neared the destroyed digger, half a dozen men burst in through a gaping tunnel opening. They wore the red-trimmed tan security uniforms of Itga Mining. At the head of the group was Nobek Talu, Itga's chief of security. His intense gaze fell on Ospar.

"Director Ospar! What happened?" Talu dashed over. He hurdled the slabs of fallen stone with more ease than Ospar had, though he was more than twice the Dramok's age.

"There might have been an explosion. We have to get this man out of here."

Heca had his digger in position. Talu shouldered Ospar aside. "Let me and my men handle this. Stand back, please."

Another Nobek, his ferocious but handsome countenance intent, took Ospar's place at Talu's side. Itga's director of general operations had no choice but to step aside and watch as Heca threaded his machine's massive drill piece through the top of the broken digger's cab. The drill rose, lifting the metal carcass of its twin to free Patlen's blood-soaked legs. The machine wobbled in the other's grip.

"Quickly!" Talu shouted. He and the younger Nobek pulled the injured worker clear an instant before the busted digger rocked loose and crashed to the stone floor.

A rumble sounded, as if in protest. The floor beneath Ospar's feet shifted, and a sheet of dirt and pebbles flowed from ceiling.

The creases in Talu's brow drove deeper as he handed Patlen off to another member of his team. "Take him to the medical department. Call in emergency services. This is a Code One situation, so be alert. Let's evacuate everybody in here and the next two caverns. Nobek Jol, make certain Director Ospar gets to safety immediately."

Ospar was quick to protest, "I can help."

Talu gave him a level look that managed to be polite and yet said don't fuck with me. "With all due respect, Director, leave or Jol will carry you out. I refuse to explain to the owners why their nephew remained in danger a second longer than was necessary."

Ospar scowled, his temper flaring to be ordered about. Yet he couldn't fault the head of security for doing his job. Talu had been employed by Itga since its start. He had been a familiar presence for the majority of the young Dramok's life. Ospar's rank wouldn't deter Talu from making good on his promise to have somebody lug him from the mine.

The brooding Nobek Talu had nodded to was the one who'd aided him in pulling Patlen from danger. Nobek Jol looked eager to obey his supervisor. His purple eyes riveted on Ospar, hands flexing in anticipation of grabbing the director and hauling him off.

Ospar gave in, but only because arguing would slow Talu's rescue effort. The men under the debris were the priority, and he wouldn't chance their lives on his pride. It failed to keep him from scowling as he marched from the scene. He paused to wrap his arm around the shattered-looking Misru to lend support, though the mine's supervisor appeared to be regaining his wits.

Ospar could feel his unwanted security escort on his heels. Like most Nobeks, Jol was silent. No matter. Ospar had known his share of the deadly breed. He didn't have to hear or see the security guard to be assured he was there.

* * * *

In Misru's office, Jol watched as Ospar examined the shaken mine supervisor's injuries. Misru's aide Imdiko Rost hovered over them, but the Nobek paid him little mind. He found it was easy to dismiss others in Ospar's presence. The man exuded authority, even covered in grime.

Itga Mining's director of operations, the nephew of the company's owners, was usually a handsome man. Jol had seen Ospar from time to time at headquarters. He knew the Dramok for the easy grin he wore, an expression that came as if it were second nature.

Charmingwas the word many used to describe Ospar. A bully, his detractors claimed.

The man's attractive features and warm grin were presently nowhere in evidence. Dust and soot from the explosion had turned Ospar's visage dark gray in places, flat-out black in others. Under the mask, he could have been the most stunning man in existence, but no one would be able to tell. It was a wonder Jol could read the concern filling the man's expression.

"I'm fine, Director. I just had my brain rattled for a moment," Misru insisted. His face was as filthy as Ospar's, smeared where they'd tried to wipe off the blood. He perched on the edge of his desk. His balance wavered every now and then, as if caught in spells of dizziness.

Jol couldn't keep from glancing at the vid commendation hanging on the wall behind Misru. It declared Itga's platinum mine had gone seven years without an accident. The streak had ended, it seemed.

Then again, what had happened minutes ago might not qualify as an accident. Talu calling a Code One bore Jol's suspicions out. Perhaps Misru's record would be allowed to stand as uninterrupted. Espionage was no accident.

"You were unconscious for more than a moment." Ospar's blue-purple eyes were vibrant, nearly glowing in the midst of the mine dust. "The cut on your head isn't bad, and I think you're only in shock. It would still be best if medical personnel checked you over to be sure." He turned to the aide. The hovering Imdiko was so clean compared to his begrimed bosses, he damned near sparkled. "Rost, the emergency personnel who are here are busy with the injured. I doubt they'll be able to attend the supervisor. Would you take Misru to the hospital yourself?"

The Imdiko took Misru's arm immediately. "Absolutely, Director."

Misru continued to act slow on the uptake, blinking at Ospar. "But the reports…and…and…the men…"

Ospar patted his shoulder and smiled. Or maybe it was a grimace. It was hard to tell under the soot. "I'll take care of everything here until Rost returns back. In fact, I don't want you on the job until tomorrow, and only if the doctors clear you for it. Anything Rost and I can't handle will wait. The mine is closed until an investigation is completed."

Either Dramok Misru was one of those who subscribed to the belief that the director's word was law, or he was too shaken to argue. Having read the man's file prior to accompanying Director Ospar's entourage to the platinum mine, Jol was inclined to assume it was the latter reason. Ospar was doing the right thing in sending him to be evaluated.

Rost quickly coaxed Misru out of the office. As the door shut behind them, Ospar appeared to note Jol's presence for the first time. He scowled, and a flash of temper lit those brilliant eyes.

His tone accusing, Ospar said, "You're still here, Nobek? I'd have thought you'd run to where the real action is. Or are you incapable of anything beyond babysitting?"

An instant of anger lit inside Jol. If unleashed, it would have been more than a match for the director's. However, Ospar had been remarkably calm thus far, given he'd just survived an explosion. Not for a single second had Jol noted a crack in his controlled veneer.

He's antagonistic because it's better than having a screaming fit after nearly being killed. Since the danger has passed and he doesn't have Misru to take care of, everything will start hitting him.

It also could be the Dramok was frustrated he was stuck in the office. He'd wanted to assist the rescue efforts and had resented Talu sending him away. Jol experienced a sense of similar helplessness, playing bodyguard in a safe area rather than rendering aid to those who needed it.

Jol wanted to give the man the benefit of the doubt. However, he was aware of Dramok Ospar's reputation. The cynic in him wondered if he wasn't seeing the director on the brink of living up to the rumors.

Many accused Ospar of being a bully when he failed to get his way. He was known for resorting to intimidation tactics when he couldn't charm situations to his satisfaction. Maybe it was why he baited Jol, acting the tyrant who had no redeeming reason for his actions.

It didn't matter. In the end, Jol worked for Itga, which meant he worked for its director of operations. He tamped down the flash of hot resentment and bowed to the chain of command as Misru had. He kept his mouth shut.

When Jol offer no answer, Ospar's annoyance grew. "Hello? Are you hearing me, Nobek?" He spoke insultingly, as if instructing a child. "There's a mess in the mine. An accident has occurred. People may be under the rubble. Shouldn't you be there, rescuing them? They need help. I don't."

Asshole.Jol had punched faces in for far less condescension.

Stay in control. He's scared from the blast. His main concern appears to be for the workers.Jol could forgive the man's rampant insolence in that light. And ignorance, considering the larger issue to be considered. Jol had been pondering it while Ospar fussed over Misru.

Cocking an eyebrow at the man, his single concession to the disrespect from his employer, Jol answered, "There were a lot of men in there."

Ospar's comically shocked expression mocked him. "It speaks! The creature is capable of communication. How amazing." He dropped the act and glared disdainfully. "Yes, by my count there were at least a dozen men in there who could use a strong Nobek to rescue them. Why are you here?"

Because Talu is thinking the same thing I am about the explosion. Code One is rarely called unless sabotage is suspected.

Beyond the cold calculations of his job, Jol was beginning to believe the tales of Ospar's arrogance. It was in each word he uttered, the statements of the rich boy handed everything on a silver platter. Jol decided he wouldn't make further excuses for the pompous jerk.

Instead of answering the director, Jol indulged his pique. He teased Ospar with the conclusion he'd arrived at, starting by correcting him. "There were almost two dozen workers in there. A lot of men for a mostly automated job, wouldn't you agree? But then, the site supervisors like to put on a show for the director and owners when they show up. It looks impressive when you have workers busy digging ore and minerals."

Ospar scowled. "What in the ancestors' names are you talking about?"

Jol kept dangling tidbits at him, curious if the blowhard would catch on. "It was known you'd be making a visit, Director. It's a big deal when you schedule a stop in your mines, isn't it?"

"If you have something to say, Nobek, I'd appreciate you doing so."

"How often are explosives used in mines? After the initial opening of a new chamber, that is?"

Ospar's eyes narrowed. Suspicion was beginning to dawn. "Your point?"

"Misru trotted out a lot of people he didn't need. He did so to impress you. However, he'd never detonate explosives to show off to the heir of the Itga fortune. Especially when a blast could squash said heir under a ton of rock."

Ospar froze. He stared at Jol, his mouth hanging open. "You're saying the explosion was no accident. I was targeted?"

At least he was as sharp as Jol had been told, which was good. It might help Talu's security force keep him alive during work hours, if Jol's suspicions proved correct.

"You've made a enemies in the past few months. Particularly Dramok Urt, owner of Pladon Industries. I'm interested in learning what the investigation into this incident digs up…no pun intended."

The space between Ospar's brows creased, driving the mine dust into darker lines. "Hold on a second. I wasn't the only one in there. There were innocent men as well. Urt wouldn't dare…he couldn't."

Jol shrugged. He was again struck by how Ospar thought first of those who'd been caught in the blast. He possessed wealth and rank, yet cared for those who worked for him, the men who literally got dirt under their nails. Could a man be a jerk and possess a conscience as well?

The Nobek shared none of those notions. He addressed the matter of his favorite suspect in the unexplained explosion. "Just in case your competitor or anybody else would attack you in such a fashion, I'll do as I was ordered and stay close to you. I'll ensure they don't get another chance."

Ospar stared at him, real distress pinching his features. Horror even. Jol felt a twinge of sympathy for the man. Realizing his presence might have placed the workers in danger was an ugly epiphany for Ospar.

Maybe he wasn't such a jerk.

Other books by Tracy St. John available at Smashwords.com:

To Protect and Service: Ravenous Virtue

To Protect and Service: Righteous Fury

CLANS OF KALQUOR

Alien Embrace

Alien Rule

Alien Conquest

Alien Salvation

Alien Slave

Alien Interludes: Clans of Kalquor Short Stories

Alien Redemption

Alien Refuge

Alien Caged

Alien Indiscretions

Alien Hostage

Alien Revolt

Alien Outcast

DARK EMPIRE

Shadows Approach

Infiltration

Secret War

Revelations

CLAN BEGINNINGS

Clan, Honor, and Empire

Clan and Covenant

Clan and Crown

To Clan and Conquer

Clan and Commit

Clan and Conviction

Clan and Crave

Clan and Conscience

Clan and Command

FIRST MATARAS

Michaela

Maryam

Iliana

Irene

CLANS OF EUROPA

Sister Katherine

Tina

Bernadette

CLAN COMPANIONS

Joseph

Gabriel

Matthew

OTHER CLANS OF KALQUOR BOOKS

Shalia's Diary Omnibus

(Omnibus contains all 12 books of the Shalia's Diary series, also available separately)

CYBERSERVED

Made to Order

Mine to Keep

Built to Last

Please visit Tracy's website to read first chapters of all her books and sign up for her newsletter at http://www.tracystjohn.com/

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