Chapter Two
Seven years earlier
They’d put her in a storage room that had been emptied of cleaning supplies after her suicide attempt. Sister Bernadette raged the six steps it took to pace what amounted to little more than a closet, then returned to the wall where she’d started. She sheltered in her fury. It shielded her against terror that might have otherwise sent her to her knees in hysterics.
Kalquorians had invaded Europa’s tiny convent. Her shelter and refuge. They’d taken the nuns and aspirants prisoner.
They hadn’t stopped there. They’d captured two hundred-plus women and divided those of childbearing age over eighteen from the rest. Any fool would have figured out what the alien men had planned, and Bernadette was no fool.
Kalquorians were going extinct, thanks to rampant infertility among their women. They’d discovered they could breed with Earther females. They’d kidnapped over fifteen hundred for that purpose in the years before. More had run to their empire, done with Earth’s poor treatment of women. An Earther had become one of four rulers of the Kalquorian Empire. War had broken out between the planets.
Now the Kalquorians had invaded the tiny outpost on Europa, inhabited solely by females. No, it didn’t take Bernadette’s solid IQ to realize the aliens’ plans for them.
Though she was a nun, second in rank to Mother Superior, Bernadette wasn’t the sort to rely on prayers or miracles. She’d witnessed too much sadness to believe the Almighty was waiting in the wings to gallop to the rescue the instant a follower said the right words. Humans had been gifted with life to show they were worthy of salvation, even if it meant dying for it. In her mind, life was a proving ground, the test to gain entrance to heaven when all was said and done. God was the sole judge of that contest.
Bernadette was a woman of faith, but she was also a hardnosed realist.
She couldn’t imagine a worse reality than what was happening, but she knew better than to think it couldn’t get worse than being locked in a bare storage room with no hope for escape. Of course it could, and it probably would. She had the history to prove it.
As if to underscore her certainty, the door opened. A Kalquorian walked in and locked it behind him. He stood there and stared at her, barely an arm’s length distant.
She’d halted her pacing the instant he’d entered. Somehow, she managed to quell the urge to back to the wall behind her. What would an extra couple of feet do to help her?
She stood tall and stiff in her tent of a nightgown, as rigid as a soldier at attention. She met the alien’s purple slit-pupiled stare with as stony an expression as she could manage.
It was difficult to maintain her strength. There was nothing soft, no visible give about the man before her. In his sleeveless green-trimmed black uniform, he was an imposing creature. All Kalquorians were. The race was predisposed to muscularity, set off to advantage by dark brown skin. This example was tall, perhaps a full foot taller than her five foot, five inches, and at least two hundred pounds of sheer brute power.
None of that shook her behind her stoic façade. What bothered her was how handsome the monster was. His rugged looks, left bare by the ponytail that tied a shaggy mane into submission, reminded her of the tough men she’d known at home in Alaska. Even the grim set of his features was similar to those who’d lived in an unforgiving and often lonely landscape. A few lines bracketed his mouth, but he appeared no older than her own thirty years.
His regard slowly dropped from her face. Her fists clenched as he took in the white nightgown that covered her from chin to toes and masked her lean figure. He hadn’t been with the pair who’d stripped her to ensure she hadn’t hidden any other weapons beyond the knife she’d wielded in the cafeteria.
She’d been dumbfounded when those men hadn’t only not raped her, but insisted on helping her put the gown on again once they’d reassured themselves she couldn’t make another suicide attempt. They’d appeared younger than this fellow. Less sure of themselves. They’d even apologized for their actions.
Kalquorians were supposedly lust-crazed beasts. So far, she hadn’t witnessed that. Would this fellow prove the stories true?
Having finished his inspection, her visitor’s gaze returned to her face. “Are you feeling better, Sister Bernadette?”
She wondered which of the aspirants had volunteered her name. None of them were bad girls, but they were a weak lot. No doubt they were terrified out of their minds. She couldn’t blame them.
While she debated whether to answer her jailer, he folded beefy slabs of arms over his chest and leaned against the closed door. Eyeing her with determined patience, he said, “I asked you a question. Are you still thinking you should kill yourself?”
“If it will serve as an example, I’m willing to offer up my life.” She was proud her tone betrayed no tremor.
“An example?”
“To resist at all costs.”
“Ah, so it wasn’t terror or despair that drove you to the attempt?”
She crossed her arms over her slight bosom, copying his self-confidence, though not his ease. “It was an act of righteousness. The girls under my care needed to see it’s better to die sinless than bow to the enemy.”
He made a slight noise. It could have been a derisive snort or a snicker. “Where did the knife come from?”
She saw no reason to lie. “I’ve had it for quite some time. A memento, of sorts.”
“It didn’t appear ornamental. Or ceremonial.”
She tried to be unimpressed with his command of English, marred only by a slight slurring accent. “It was simple butcher knife, used in a kitchen to prepare food. Nothing more.”
“A memento of cooking?”
“That particular knife was used in a crime.”
That earned her a raised brow. “A crime you committed?”
“No.”
“A curious souvenir.” His interest sharpened.
“It serves as a reminder of how cruel life is.” A lesson the knife might as well have carved on her heart. She’d often wondered why she’d kept such a macabre symbol for the last twenty-three years.
“You heard us come into the wing where you were sleeping and tied it to your leg to kill yourself as an example to the young women?”
“I tied it to my leg in case I had the chance to cut a few Kalquorian throats. When it became apparent I had no hope of that, I chose the second-best option.”
The corner of his lips lifted. He was smiling at her? “What about sticking around to find out what our plans were? That wasn’t an option?”
“I’m well aware of your plans for Earther women.”
“Ah. Yes, Kalquor has that frustrating matter of looming extinction. If it helps you feel any better, I’m not in the market for a female clanmate.”
He wasn’t there to rape her? The tension within her relaxed a little. “Why are we talking?”
“I’m part of the medical crew. You’re a danger to yourself. I’m assessing how big a problem you are to our mission.”
“You mean, will I make another attempt on my life?”
“Along with a few other matters, but yes, that’s the biggest question I have now.” He surprised her by bowing in an old-fashioned courtly manner. “I am Imdiko Doljen, part of the spyship crew that chanced upon your colony.”
He wasn’t a soldier, but a member of a medical staff. A healer instead of a fighter. Despite those bulging muscles, he hadn’t shown up to harm the women and girls of Europa.
As she replayed his last statement, Bernadette seized on the wording. “You chanced upon Europa?”
“Apparently. We were tracking an enemy general when we stumbled upon you. Sheer luck.”
“Ill luck,” Bernadette muttered.
“It depends on which side you’re on.” Doljen chuckled. “Most of your fellow colonists would agree with you, unfortunately. We’re working to change their minds.”
Her guts lurched. “What do you mean, working to change their minds?”
“Spoils of war, Matara. You all belong to the Kalquorian Empire now.” His smile had disappeared. His gaze was assessing.
Anger bubbled through her. Her fists clenched so hard, her fingernails dug into her palms. “Unholy filth. If I could, I’d claw your eyes out.”
“You look capable of it.” Doljen raked her up and down with his stare once more. “I admire your strength. No weeping. No begging. Are you as tough as you appear?”
She refused to answer. When he approached and circled her, she remained stock-still.
She even managed to keep from jumping when he scooped a handful of her heavy, dark hair from her shoulder. “Beautiful hair. And eyes, now that I’m past how oddly your pupils are shaped. So deep and dark.”
He stood close enough she could sense the heat of his body through her nightgown. His scent, strangely sweet, spicy, and musky all at once, infused the air she breathed.
Electric warmth woke within her. Panic, no doubt. Whatever it was, she wouldn’t give into it.
Bernadette moved her head slowly to the side to slide her curls from his palm. “Don’t touch me.”
“Why not? What are you afraid of?” His voice had gone soft. Gentle.
She took a single step away. Her chin lifted, and she met his gaze. The bastard appeared amused, damn him.
“I’ve done nothing wrong, so I fear nothing. You can’t hurt me in any manner that counts.”
“Bernadette.” His sinuous tone sent a shiver down her spine she fought to keep from displaying. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Then go.” Did she sound choked? God, grant me strength.
“I could since I’ve made my assessment. Would you like to hear it?”
“I’m uninterested in what you think of me.”
“No? You aren’t the least bit curious?”
She refused to reply.
“I’ve determined you are indeed a concern. First, you might attempt to kill yourself again. Second, you could prove to be a poor influence on the other captives. You’ll have to remain in isolation.”
She hated hearing that. The others needed her to be their strength in the face of the Kalquorian invasion. They needed to observe her defiance.
She wouldn’t beg, however. “If you’re done, there’s the door.”
A flash of a smile, a real smile. Prophets, the brute was handsome. “I’m also supposed to make recommendations on how best to reconcile you to your future with the Kalquorian Empire. To ease your transition from intimidated, second-class citizen of Earth to a self-confident lifebringer of worthy Kalquorian clanmates.”
She seized on the part that didn’t terrify her, centered all her attention on the tiny flash of outrage. “Intimidated?”
Doljen laughed, and he transformed into the most stunning man she’d ever seen. Her heart stuttered.
Lucifer was beautiful too, and look at how that turned out.
“You’re tougher than we’ve been led to expect,” he admitted.
She fought against the mote of pleasure that woke from his admiration. “I’m glad you noticed. Your presence is no longer required, then. You can run along.”
“Bernadette.” That supple note was in his voice again. His tone was caressing. The hairs on her neck rose. “You can’t get rid of me so easily. I’m going to get to know you. Fully. Personally. Intimately.”
He lifted her hair again and brought it to his nose as his stare drilled into her eyes. He sniffed it.
“You said you wouldn’t harm me.”
“Funny thing about what we think of as harm. When an addict can no longer have his drugs, the withdrawal is painful. Torturous, in some respects. He could argue he’s being hurt, when he’s actually growing healthier.”
Bernadette pressed her lips together. I can survive this. I will survive it.
“Children are the same, aren’t they? They rail against their parents telling them to eat fewer sweets, to keep clean, to play safely. They accuse their guardians of mistreatment, but it’s for their own good.”
While Doljen spoke, he released her hair. His fingertips skated down the voluminous sleeve of her gown, and up again. Pressing just enough to feel her arm within the fabric. Goosebumps greeted the contact.
“What you plan to do with me is mistreatment.”
“What is it you think I’ll do?” He walked behind her, his fingers sliding across a shoulder blade, her spine, the other shoulder blade. He stopped before her.
“You said you’d know me intimately. Since you’re touching me, I assume you mean sexual intercourse."
“Your lip curls when you talk about it. That isn’t a healthy response. Do you realize that?” He stroked beneath her chin, a caress as ephemeral as a butterfly’s wing.
“Sex with a stranger is far from natural.” She spoke between gritted teeth despite hating to show him any sign of her discomfort.
“Don’t worry. You’ll get acquainted with me. Then I won’t be a stranger.”
“I don’t care how familiar you become. I’ll hate it. It’s wrong.”
He leaned down so their faces were level. The warmth of his breath wafted over her lips, so close to his. His fingertips skated to the hollow of her throat, where her pulse beat wildly. “What’s wrong is shutting yourself off from the opportunity to love. As is refusing to give yourself fully, completely, to someone. Don’t you wish to share and allow others to share themselves with you as your god intended?”
For an instant, the vision of another man’s face replaced Doljen’s. A flash of hurt stabbed her heart.
“Blasphemer,” she choked.
A mocking smile slid his lips apart. “Let me remind you of a mandate from that which you worship. ‘Be fruitful and multiply.’ But let’s concentrate on who you lost. Or left you. Which was it?”
She gasped and staggered back a couple of steps. “What…how…”
“I recognize that look of betrayal, Bernadette.” He came close again, and the wall was suddenly at her back. She couldn’t retreat any further, and he loomed over her. “I too lost out on love. See? We already understand so much about each other.”
“I don’t want to understand you.”
“No?” His hands closed around her waist. Warmth radiated from the pressure in all directions. It was a man’s touch, a touch she’d once dreamed of.
“No.”
“We’ll find out.”
He was so close. Close enough that the heat she felt didn’t come from just his hands. Prophets, she could feel him right through her nightgown, the coarse fabric no protection. He stared down at her with the air of a predator. She was certain he’d tear her gown off and force her.
She was shocked when he stepped back and released her instead. “A meal will be arriving shortly. And a bed. I’ll talk with you again soon, Bernadette.”
With that, he left her, alone. Shaking. Confused. Feeling as if she’d somehow been defeated.
She searched for the man she couldn’t forget and found a shattered clan she couldn’t resist.
Captain Bernadette Miller was a nun on the moon Europa, hiding from a painful past. Now she hunts the galaxy for the Kalquorian who made her stop running from herself. When she gets a lead on his clanmates, she thinks her search is finally over. What she finds, however, is a clan devastated by broken promises.
Nobek Halmiko was once a star kurble player. Now he wanders space aimlessly, picking up jobs where he can find them, trying to forget the clanmates he let down. When Bernadette shows up asking questions about his missing Imdiko, he has nothing to say. But some women get in a man’s head. Some women don’t take no for an answer.
Dramok Tumsa had it all: a career he loved, the perfect clan, a troubled but talented brother he’d do anything for. Tragedy on the kurble field destroyed it all. Now his estranged Nobek is back, with a beautiful, hardnosed Earther captain who offers him an opportunity to make amends. Can he piece his clan together again? Does he deserve the chance?
Imdiko Doljen is wracked by guilt. He’s hidden from those he let down…including a woman he couldn’t keep. When she shows up in the company of his clanmates, old hurts ignite anew. It doesn’t matter what he wants; he can’t fix the mistakes he made.
The only path to regaining the love Bernadette lost means healing this shattered clan. Is she ready to commit to three men instead of the one she came for? When disaster strikes, she has to call on all the strength she possesses to stop them from falling apart for good.
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