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  What was wrong with her?

  It was a question that tormented her day and night whenever her mind wasn’t busy with learning to pilot or learning how to fight. Thank the Goddess above, Varin worked her hard, often waking her early and not letting her stop until well into the night—or what passed for night on the ship, anyway. Brynn was eager to learn and more than happy to divert her mind from the dreams and their implications…the implication being that she was becoming a monster—a sick deviant as disgusting and horrible as Sovereign X'izith himself.

  How could she think otherwise? Why else would such dreadful dreams cause her to throb not just with horror, but also with desire? What kind of person got aroused when witnessing the disgusting things she’d seen and been subjected to in the Hive? Especially the sight of the massive alien’s breeding barb—why did the sight of it make her body yearn for penetration? For it did, even though she had promised herself after her deflowering that nothing would ever enter her body again in that way.

  Brynn wanted to reach inside herself and rip out the part of her that lusted and craved and ached to be penetrated…to be filled to the core. There was an empty ache inside her now—a feeling of desperate need that never went away, no matter how hard she tried to banish or ignore it.

  She kept thinking that if only she could reach the peak she’d been able to find with the tickle-teaser Varin had given her, she would get some relief from the awful dreams and their strange, perverted effect on her. But through she lay in the darkness and tried night after night, the release of orgasm eluded her. Brynn couldn’t help feeling that she needed something more—someone more to help her.

  She thought of asking Varin…and dismissed the idea. Even though he could touch her now, the idea of admitting that she needed help to reach the elusive peak was too embarrassing—too humiliating. He was already teaching her to fight and to pilot—what kind of idiot would he think she was if she had to ask for his help with that too?

  And even worse, what if he asked her why she was so desperately needy? What if she had to admit it was her nightmares that were waking her in such a state of desire she could barely breathe? To be aroused by such awful images made no sense and the idea of admitting what was happening to her filled Brynn with shame.

  No—far better to keep her mouth shut and just endure the nightmares. Just hope that they would go away and leave her alone.

  Only they weren’t going away. In fact, if anything, the longer she was away from the Hive, the stronger they got. Almost as if there was some kind of law of physics that didn’t apply anywhere else—an inverse correlation between how far she was from the Hive and how much access Sovereign X'izith had to her mind—if it was, in fact him sending the dreams.

  Maybe he’s not, Brynn told herself as she lay in bed one night, sleepless despite the fact that she’d been up early and had studied with Varin in both piloting and fighting until she was almost ready to drop that day. Maybe I’m just sick—twisted by my time in the Hive. Maybe I’ll never be normal again…

  But no—she couldn’t accept that. She knew if she could just achieve a release—give herself an orgasm—before she drifted off to sleep, she wouldn’t be bothered by the dreams any more. Or that was what she told herself, anyway.

  Though it hadn’t done her any good earlier, Brynn decided to try again. Biting her lip and trying to still her breathing, she slipped her hand under the pink silk sheets to cup her pussy.

  Already she was wet and hot, even though she hadn’t had a nightmare yet that night. That was because of her proximity to Varin when he’d come to say good night to her, Brynn thought. Because being too near the big Kindred brought on the same sensations that the nightmares did. And since she was near him all the time now, it felt like her body was always on overload.

  Tentatively, she tried parting her pussy lips and stroking between them. But though it felt good and the sensations built quickly inside her, her body stubbornly refused to reach orgasm. Brynn tried harder, rubbing now hard, now soft, now faster, now slower—but though her need continued to build until she felt like she might go mad from it, nothing happened.

  Unaware that she was doing it, Brynn began uttering angry little cries, which soon turned into real tears. She put an arm over her eyes and sobbed in frustration. Goddess above, she felt so helpless…so useless. What was wrong with her? Why couldn’t she find the release she was seeking? If only she could orgasm she was sure she could get a good night’s sleep for once. Maybe even a night without dreams. If only—

  “All right, Princess—we need to talk.”

  The deep, familiar voice in her ear shocked Brynn out of her abject misery. She jerked and turned her head to see that Varin was standing right beside her bed, looking at her with an unreadable expression on his face.

  “I…um…” She suddenly realized she still had one hand under the covers, cupping her pussy. With a jerk, she drew it out and then, realizing her fingers were wet with her juices, she tried to hide it back under the covers again.

  But Varin was too quick for her. Reaching down, he caught her guilty hand before she could push it back under her sheets.

  “What…what are you doing? Let me go!” Brynn demanded in her most imperious ‘I am a Princess’ voice.

  “Not until we talk this out.” Still holding her hand, he sat down on the side of her bed and raised an eyebrow at her. “I know what you’re doing, Brynn.”

  She felt her cheeks go hot with shame.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I…I’m not doing anything.”

  In answer, Varin brought her hand to his lips and sucked her fingers into his mouth. Brynn watched, wide-eyed, as he carefully cleaned away her juices, lapping slowly as though to savor every bit of her honey.

  “I know what you’re doing,” he repeated, his voice a soft growl. In the dim room, his bronze eyes seemed to glow. “And I know it’s not doing you a damn bit of good.”

  Brynn snatched her hand back.

  “Have you been watching me—having visions of me, I mean?”

  “Some,” he admitted. “But mostly I can hear you through the walls—the same way I hear you when you have one of your nightmares.”

  Above all things, Brynn didn’t want to discuss the nightmares. Even admitting to touching herself was better than that.

  “I…I just thought I’d sleep easier if I could, you know, reach the peak first,” she admitted in a low voice. “Only…I can’t. No matter how hard I try.”

  “I know,” he said softly. “I can hear you trying.”

  “I wish I had that little tickle-teaser you gave me back at the palace,” she said wistfully. “I don’t understand why I can’t…can’t seem to manage without it.”

  “Different things work for different people,” Varin said reasonably. “Some females have a difficult time just using their fingers.”

  “How do you know what works for females?” Brynn demanded. “Have you had a lot of experience before I came to the palace?”

  “None, actually,” he said blandly. “I’ve been blood-bonded to you since I was seven solar years old. Which means the idea of being with any other female sexually is unthinkable.”

  “Really?” Brynn sat up in bed and stared at him. “You were…faithful to me even before you knew me? I mean, before you met me in person?”

  “Always, Mistress. My chastity is yours,” he said, giving her a level stare.

  “But…then I don’t understand. How do you know so much about females and what, uh, works for them?” Brynn asked. “How did you know to give me that tickle-teaser?”

  “It’s as I told you before—no one pays attention to a slave. People talk.” He shrugged. “I wasn’t always in the Arena before I came to guard you. I was often much in demand to guard at female ceremonies and affairs of state.” He made a wry face. “If there’s a hornier, more lustful creature than a Galen noblewoman, I don’t know what it is. The tales I’ve heard by simply standing there and being ignored…” He shook