Code Name Rebellion: Box Set, #7

By Cyndi Friberg

Code Name Autumn: In a future where women have few choices, Autumn fears she'll never again know the pleasure of a man's touch. Then General Ra'jen Noirte rescues her from a whipping gone wrong. The sexy alien captivates her, reawaking dormant desires. On the surface he radiates deadly aggression, but Autumn has glimpsed his tormented soul. Though he commands the occupation army, she suspects they have similar goals.

Ra'jen returns from combat to find a woman bound, abused and abandoned. His healing touch soon turns to hunger as she stirs beneath his hands. With milk-white skin and flame-red hair, Autumn tempts him to abandon his responsibilities and indulge long-neglected needs. Every kiss, every caress distracts from his mission, and the fate of Earth depends on his success. More than love is on the line as they form an uneasy alliance and fight their mutual enemies.

Code Name Winter: After the Gathosians invade Earth and enslave its surviving population, Winter is forced to work in an alien-run refinery. When Ulrick Brant rescues her from an even worse fate, she has a new choice—become an "ambassador" and serve as a sex slave to the invaders. But she is quickly recruited as a spy for the Resistance. Her first task—seduce Ulrick, the Gathosians' enforcer on Earth, to learn the location of Earth's potential savior.

Ulrick hates the Gathosians, who force him to enslave world after world against his will. He doesn't mind helping the Resistance, but he won't tolerate being used. Before Winter realizes he's discovered her deception, he has her naked and in restraints. Even through his anger, he can't fight the electric attraction between them. But if he does agree to aid the Resistance, he does so on his terms.

Winter is dazzled by the pleasure they share, but the Resistance won't wait forever. Danger is closing in, and Ulrick must choose his final role—ruthless invader or freedom fighter.

Code Name Spring: When Evard Keenan sends for a pleasure ambassador, Spring knows it's the only opportunity she'll have to recruit the mysterious chemist. She anticipates the danger of her mission, yet she's unprepared for the passion that ignites with their first kiss. Never before has she longed for another with such aching intensity. She believes in the Resistance, and she'll complete her assignment regardless of the cost. But how will she find the strength to walk away?

Evard is every bit as much a captive of the ruthless Gathosians as the people of Earth. He knows the Resistance is his only hope of escaping his tormentors, and he's just as sure Spring is part of the Resistance. He'll seduce her, captivate and pleasure her, until the thought of leaving him behind is intolerable.

Code Name Summer: When Malik's investigation into the Resistance leads him to the pleasure ambassadors, he uses the opportunity to summon Saroji to his bed. Her involvement with the Resistance makes her fair game, and no matter how hard he's tried to forget her, he still burns to claim her body and soul.

Saroji is infuriated when she learns Malik has sent for her alter ego. If the dangerous traitor doesn't realize she is Summer, there is much to be gained by fulfilling his sexual fantasies. But it's far more likely he intends to repay her for a past betrayal. Malik is the only man who ever touched her body and tantalized her heart until she willingly surrendered control. She can't afford to trust him, yet squandering the opportunity could extinguish the last hope for the Resistance.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Cyndi Friberg
• Release date: Nov 16, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393915171

Cyndi Friberg

Passionate Sci-Fi with a touch of danger and a whole lot of sass. Cyndi has written about rock stars, vampires, and cat shifters, but she’s currently focused on outer space. Her stories are fun, fast-paced, and seriously hot. Her books have made the USA Today Top 100, and frequently land on Amazon Best Seller lists. She is currently working on the Shadowborn Rebellion, a spin-off series set in the Outcasts universe.   She loves to hear from readers: [e-mail] https://facebook.com/fribergc https://twitter.com/Cyndi_Friberg

Book preview

Code Name: Autumn

In a future where women have few choices, Autumn fears she’ll never again know the pleasure of a man’s touch. Then General Ra’jen Noirte rescues her from a whipping gone wrong. The sexy alien captivates her, reawaking dormant desires. On the surface he radiates deadly aggression, but Autumn has glimpsed his tormented soul. Though he commands the occupation army, she suspects they have similar goals.

Ra’jen returns from combat to find a woman bound, abused and abandoned. His healing touch soon turns to hunger as she stirs beneath his hands. With milk-white skin and flame-red hair, Autumn tempts him to abandon his responsibilities and indulge long-neglected needs. Every kiss, every caress distracts from his mission, and the fate of Earth depends on his success. More than love is on the line as they form an uneasy alliance and fight their mutual enemies.

Chapter One

Naked except for a black lace thong, Autumn knelt on a mirror-topped table with her wrists bound in leather cuffs and suspended above her head. A blood-red scarf had been slipped between her teeth. It crossed at the back of her head, and then covered her mouth completely. She stared straight ahead, focusing past the leering stares and lust-hardened expressions of the soldiers crowded into the briefing room. None of these men were allowed to touch her. She was a whipping girl, part of the entertainment, yet not available for sexual interaction.

Isn’t she beautiful, gentlemen? Rebecca purred. The short, braided strands of her velvet whip whooshed as she brought it down in a dramatic arc, barely missing her thigh. Her skin is perfect and so white. It’s almost a shame to mark her. She laughed, the sound light and playful. Almost.

Even knowing the blow was coming didn’t prepare Autumn for the sting. Rebecca slapped the strands against Autumn’s tight belly and she inhaled, clenching her teeth against the gag. Bright red marks lined her fair skin as heat spread through her abdomen, collecting between her thighs. Training to become a pleasure ambassador had been intensive and long. Autumn had discovered many unexpected facts about her body. One of the most surprising had been her affinity for pain.

It’s all so sad for poor Autumn, Rebecca went on. I do anything I want, I misbehave constantly, and she receives my punishment. She whipped one of Autumn’s breasts and then the other, spreading the heat and anticipation. The older woman’s control kept the strokes sharp enough to draw blood to the surface without breaking the skin.

Autumn’s nipples peaked as her body processed the stimulation. Rebecca grabbed the edge of the wheeled table and carefully turned it around. The cables securing Autumn’s arms twisted, drawing them even higher.

And look at this ass. Rebecca squeezed one cheek, her long nails dragging across the smooth skin as she pulled her hand away. Have you ever seen an ass more in need of spanking? She slapped Autumn hard with her open hand and waited for her skin to react. A perfect handprint. Very good, Autumn. You’re the best whipping girl I’ve ever had.

Muffled chuckles peppered the room but Autumn tuned out her surroundings. A large mirror had been set up near the wall, allowing the men to see her front while Rebecca worked on her back. Rebecca spanked Autumn’s other cheek, making it appear as if bloody hands had squeezed her ass. It was all orchestrated, a practiced routine they had perfected in training.

Rebecca ran the whip handle up the inside of Autumn’s thigh and rubbed it against the scrap of lace covering her folds. She’s wet, boys. Shall I see if I can make her come?

I can make her come, one of the soldiers bragged. Let me touch her, and she’ll be dripping in a minute or less.

Rebecca’s laugh was low and sensual this time. She’s dripping now. She slipped her fingers inside Autumn’s panties and gathered some cream. See?

Rip off the thong, someone else suggested. Let her juices pool on top of the table.

Staring into the mirror, Autumn tried to catch Rebecca’s gaze. They weren’t supposed to deviate from the routine. It was designed to excite while keeping Autumn objectified, unattainable.

Sorry, boys. The thong’s there to remind you that you can look, but never touch.

Autumn’s relieved sigh was premature. Rebecca swung the whip with punishing force, blanketing the small of her back with needling pain. Autumn gasped and arched, but the next lash was even harder. The whip was made of velvet, for God’s sake! How was Rebecca making it hurt so badly?

Unlike the teasing strokes Rebecca had delivered to her breasts, these lashes seared and burned. Autumn twisted, writhing helplessly, her screams muffled by the gag. Tears blurred her vision then anger flared through her shock.

She demanded that Rebecca stop, but her words were garbled by the material between her teeth. Why was Rebecca doing this? They were supposed to be a team. The whip connected again and again, the surrounding noise escalating with each swing. Cheers and whistles, and the occasional gasp as blood trailed down Autumn’s back. Shame crept through her anger. Did they believe she deserved this pain? Why was no one questioning Rebecca’s viciousness?

She’s had enough. A deep voice cut through the others and the next lash never came.

Autumn shifted her weight and fire rolled from her shoulders to the bend of her knees. Tears escaped the corners of her eyes, and she moaned.

Poor, precious Autumn, Rebecca whispered bitterly. Still think you’re better than the rest of us? She threw the whip onto the tabletop and stepped away. Come on, boys. That always makes me horny. Who wants to go first?

Three of the soldiers rushed forward. Autumn watched them in the mirror through a haze of pain. One of the men reached for the whip but Rebecca stopped him. No one touches her but me.

Autumn whimpered at the belated mercy. He stepped back but remained near the table, staring up at Autumn as he rubbed the bulge in the front of his pants.

There were five pleasure ambassadors scattered about the room, but there were eleven men. Autumn grasped the cables connected to her wrist cuffs, suddenly wishing she were not bound. Even with two embassy guards overseeing the action, they were outnumbered.

The trainers had assured Autumn abuse was not tolerated. The embassies were the only game in town, so no one in the Protectorate wanted to be blacklisted.

The Protectorate. Autumn shuddered. They were the occupying army, the henchmen for the mysterious Gathosians who now controlled Earth. In a few short months the Protectorate had reduced Earth to a subjugated mining colony. They struck North America first, subduing the superpower as an example to the rest of the world.

The first designer virus targeted those not strong enough to work. The second wiped out most of the female population. The third killed anyone who had not yet gone through puberty. The Gathosians wanted their workforce unencumbered by sentimental distractions, and they weren’t interested in longevity. Once the oceans had been stripped of their salt, the Gathosians would move on to another planet.

The women and children unlucky enough to survive the pandemics were rounded up and taken to training camps, while the devastated men were forced to deal with the bodies.

Hundreds of millions of bodies.

Allowing her physical pain to burn through the memories, Autumn returned to the present and her heart sank to the pit of her stomach. This situation wasn’t much better than the devastation she’d been remembering.

Laborer or whore. Those were the choices left for human females. Or breeder, the most degrading choice of all. Even if she’d chosen to subject herself to the back-breaking work and toxic environment of the sodium refineries, she would have been fighting off the unwanted advances of her coworkers. Rape had become so common it was no longer considered a crime. Females were so rare it was unthinkable to go anywhere without protection. The human concepts of morality and fidelity had been eroded by this new reality.

Rebecca’s rhythmic cries drew Autumn’s attention to her tormentor. The first soldier had bent her over the conference table. Autumn gritted her teeth and looked away from Rebecca, but everywhere she looked it was more of the same. She had no idea why the reward had been arranged for these soldiers. Had they performed unusually well, or had they simply been in the field for an unusually long period of time? The briefing room wasn’t large, so no one bothered with modesty.

And Autumn found it all repulsive.

Was this really her fate? Not every party requested a whipping girl, so eventually she would have to allow members of the Protectorate access to her body. Her blood ran cold at the thought. Could she really shut down her mind and become a passive vessel for the monsters that had ravaged her world?

Autumn closed her eyes, tension knotting her stomach. It was all so mechanical, so impersonal, so...meaningless. How did the ambassadors stand it night after night?

You’ve never done it. Have you? Soldier Three faced her again, dark eyes gleaming with desire. You’re always the whipping girl. No one ever gets to touch you.

She glared at him, saved from replying by the gag covering her mouth.

She’s new. Rebecca panted. And she’s the trainer’s pet. Whatever Autumn wants, Autumn gets.

Soldier Two pulled Rebecca away from the table and urged her to her knees. Come on, Bret. You can have her mouth.

Bret’s dark gaze swept over Autumn with obvious longing, then he skirted the table and joined his friends.

The double doors on the far side of the room burst open and a red-faced soldier shouted, Get them out of here! Noirte just set down.

The men righted their uniforms as the ambassadors frantically gathered discarded clothing. Autumn yanked on the cuffs and cried out behind the gag, trying to draw anyone’s attention.

Rebecca looked at her and smiled, a cruel bowing of her painted lips, and then she ran for the nearest exit.

Panic seized Autumn as the room emptied. She tried to stand, but the table started to roll, and she sank back to her knees. Shit! They’d deserted her here to face... She hadn’t recognized the name, but the person was obviously a superior and obviously feared.

Trembling with dread and frustration, Autumn watched the open doorway in the mirror. A man strode into the room, his sleek armor gleaming with subtle iridescence. Silver and blue, with a touch of mauve. Was armor supposed to be beautiful? A matching helmet dangled from one fist, and she lifted her gaze to his face.

His skin was pale, almost ashen, with the faintest hint of blue. With a high forehead and slashing cheekbones, his features were so fiercely elegant he didn’t seem real. His hair was pulled back from his face and tucked down inside his armor, the strands combining silver, blue and black.

Their gazes locked in the mirror and awareness arced between them, tangible and tingly. None of the Protectorate were human, though most were humanoid. This man looked particularly alien. His eyes were large and slanted, and they shimmered. The color was impossible to define. It changed from blue to gray to silver, like smoke trapped inside his irises. His expression, however, required no speculation. He was furious.

Are your injuries as bad as they look?

Concern for her was the last thing she’d expected from him. She started to shake her head, but her muscles were tight, and the slightest movement sent a fresh wave of fire across her back. She gained nothing by lying, so she nodded instead.

Careful not to touch her, he reached up and released the hook which secured her cuffs to the cables. The cuffs were still locked together, restraining her hands. She swayed as she lowered her arms, instinctively reaching for something solid. He extended his arm, and she grasped the cool alloy armor, keeping it away from her tender skin. With his other hand he untied the gag and unwound the scarf from around her head. She sighed and licked her lips, amazed there was any moisture left in her mouth.

Who did this to you? His autocratic tone brooked no refusal.

My partner got a little carried away.

A little? He fingered the strands of the whip where it rested between her knees. There is something hard embedded in each strand. Was the whip meant to be this damaging?

No. The one we practiced with was just velvet. She’d had no idea Rebecca was so resentful. Would you please unlace the cuffs so I can get down? He moved directly in front of her and set down his helmet, so he could open the cuffs. His fingers were long and deft, his nearness disconcerting. Are you their commanding officer?

The corner of his mouth quirked and he looked up from his task. You don’t know who I am?

This is my first assignment. I mean no disrespect.

His features relaxed while his gaze darkened to smoldering charcoal. Your first night out of training and one of your fellow ambassadors beats the shit out of you? Does she not play well with others, or was she jealous of your role?

He held the cuffs as she lifted her hands free. Then she rubbed her wrists, unable to contain a blissful sigh. I didn’t realize she was upset about the arrangement.

Which was? He offered his arm and steadied the table while she climbed down.

I volunteered to be the whipping girl, so I wouldn’t have to... Her legs wobbled and he guided her hands to his chest, then he lowered his arms and stood still, offering support without touching her further. He was taller than she’d realized, and bigger. How much of his shape was armor and how much flesh?

Was enduring this pain really better than giving pleasure to my men?

He’d inadvertently answered her question. Obviously he was their commanding officer. Yes. I’m not sure I was cut out for this line of work. She offered no more explanation.

Can you walk?

Turning to the side, she steadied herself against him and took a small step. He moved with her, his hand cradling her elbow. Her second step made her back throb, and her third sent the room spinning around her.

I think I... She turned toward him and rested her forehead against his chest as she fought back a sudden wave of nausea.

The worst of the damage is on your back, so I can’t pick you up. If you wrap your arms and legs around me, can you hold yourself up?

The table rolls. Maybe we should use that.

Let’s try this first. His voice took on a sensual undertone that made her look into his eyes.

Where are you taking me? He’d been kind and courteous, had barely glanced at her breasts. Was he more interested in her physically than she’d realized?

To my quarters. It’s much closer than the infirmary. His expression was bland, but she hadn’t imagined the sexy deepening in his tone.

She hurt too badly to argue. If she had to give in eventually, why not start at the top? The flippant thought didn’t soothe her anxiety, but the throbbing in her back made it irrelevant.

He went down on one knee and motioned her forward. She hesitantly straddled his bent leg and crept closer. When her nipples grazed his chest plate, she wrapped her arms around his neck and carefully sat down. The coolness of his armor soothed the enflamed skin on her breasts and bottom, and a dark, spicy scent filled her nose. Was she smelling his shampoo or the man himself? Unable to hold the distracting thought in her pain-muddled mind, she took a deep breath and wrapped her legs around his waist.

Ready? She gave a shaky nod and he stood. The position was as close to tolerable as they’d found, and he moved immediately toward the doorway. He gingerly cupped her ass, his hands lightly supporting. What’s your name?

Autumn. And yours?

He chuckled, his stride lengthening. General Ra’jen Noirte, but you can call me ‘Sir’.

Chapter Two

Ra’jen felt the girl tense against him. At least she’d recognized his name, if not his face. If she hadn’t been wounded, he would have released her and sent her back to the embassy. But vicious welts crisscrossed her slender back, the skin broken and oozing. He was relieved one of his men hadn’t done this to her, though the fact didn’t diminish her obvious pain.

So you run this base, or do you have several under your command?

Okay, maybe she hadn’t recognized his name. Silly fledgling. He leaned in, allowing her hair to brush against his cheek. I command them all, he whispered. He supported her with one hand while he scanned open the door to his quarters. His movement triggered the lights and the door locked behind him. Crossing the small living area, he went into the adjoining bedroom. Do you need to kneel or can you sit? The bed is relatively soft.

Just set me down and I’ll figure it out. Her voice was tight and unsteady, her delicate features revealing her discomfort. He carefully eased her onto the bed and stepped back as she let go. As soon as her entire weight rested on her ass she groaned. I think I’ll stand. She pushed to her feet, but her legs wobbled beneath her.

I’m going to touch you, so don’t panic. I won’t hurt you. Why was he explaining himself to an ambassador? He never explained himself to anyone. People obeyed his directives without question or complaint. So what was different about this girl? No, she wasn’t a girl. Vulnerable and helpless, yes, but she was definitely a woman.

He grasped the back of her neck with one hand, ensuring she didn’t jerk away. She pressed her calves against the side of the bed and locked her knees. Her body still swayed, but it was the best they could do in her present condition. He curved his fingers over her shoulder and slid his hand slowly downward, pushing energy into her body as he went. He wasn’t familiar enough with her physiology to actually mend the damage. Instead, he inundated her cells with energy, accelerating their ability to recover. Her skin warmed beneath his palm and she shifted restlessly.

Don’t move. He didn’t temper the command, couldn’t split his focus.

She immediately stilled and he covered her right breast, trying to ignore how perfectly the soft globe fit his palm. Her nipple hardened and she shivered. Both reactions were common, and the longer he lingered the more he wanted to squeeze. He moved his hand to her other breast, frustrated by the distraction. They were breasts, for Creator’s sake. He’d seen breasts before, touched them and sucked them. This should not be diverting his attention.

The discoloration faded, leaving perfect milk-white skin, crowned with tight red nipples. Nipples his thumb longed to stroke and his tongue wanted to tease. He forced his gaze away from her breasts and swept his hand lower. Her abdomen quivered as the heat intensified.

Carnal hunger joined the healing warmth and his body hardened, expanding painfully within the confines of his armor. Why was he reacting this way? Healing fire had never turned him on before.

Perhaps it had nothing to do with his task. Maybe he just wanted to bury himself inside her warm body and stay there until they both lost track of reality.

He healed her abdomen then returned his gaze to her face. She stared at him with an intriguing combination of fear and wonder.

You look like a warrior elf. I should have realized you could heal.

A warrior elf? He smiled, charmed by her unexpected candor.

All you need is pointed ears.

He turned his head, displaying the rounded shape of his ear. Sorry to disappoint you. Lie down.

She crawled onto his bed, the only woman he’d ever allowed there, and turned her face toward him, resting her cheek on her folded arms. Her body was long-limbed and softly curved, her hair a riot of dark red curls. Autumn indeed. Every color of a harvest sunset had been captured in those silken strands.

Unlatching his armor as he crossed the room, he opened the chest plate and pulled his arms out of the sleeves. Then he hung the top half of his armor on the metal stand in the corner. He left his boots on and removed the leg encasements, snapping them around the lower section of the stand.

He rolled his shoulders, enjoying the cool air as it wafted across his overheated body. Formfitting yet flexible, the garments he wore beneath his armor were designed to protect his skin without limiting his range of motion. Would she notice his erection, or was she too distracted by her pain?

Where have you been that you needed armor?

He glanced at his guest and a long strand of his hair swooshed across his face. He finger-combed it back, not taking time to rework his queue. I’m the military head of the Protectorate. I seldom leave this room without armor.

That many people want you dead? There was no malice in her question or in her sky-blue eyes.

Advancement within the Protectorate often involves assassination.

If you’re head honcho, can’t you change that fact?

He wasn’t sure why her question annoyed him, but he bristled anyway. Shall we talk politics, or would you like me to heal your back?

Sorry. The trainers warned me not to ask too many questions. She turned her head, resting her chin on her arms as she gazed straight ahead.

Regretting his hasty words, he crossed to the bed and sat. She inhaled sharply then blew out her breath in a slow, steady hiss.

I must touch you again. It can’t be helped.

She nodded but didn’t make a sound.

He started with the backs of her thighs and worked his way up her body. Her ass cheeks healed quickly but his fingers lingered, savoring the velvety texture of her skin. Was this really your first assignment? His gaze focused on the black lace protecting her folds. He wanted to stroke her, push his fingers inside her and feel her come. It had been years since... No, he couldn’t remember ever wanting a woman this badly.

I just completed training.

Moving his hands to the small of her back, he ignored the possessive hunger building inside him. He shouldn’t care that her career as a prostitute had not yet begun. It made no difference to him if she’d pleasured half the men on this planet. She flinched and whimpered as he paused over an especially deep laceration. He lightened the pressure of his hand but increased the flow of energy.

What made you decide to join an embassy? She needed a distraction from the pain, and he needed to think about something other than her soft, supple body.

She scoffed. Like any of us has a choice. I was cycled out of the training camp three months ago, so it was one of the Atlantic refineries, a breeding lab or one of the embassies. Which would you have chosen?

A refinery, he muttered, using both hands on her back.

Because ambassadors are whores?

I didn’t say that.

You didn’t have to. Men are so quick to criticize us, but the embassies would go out of business if it weren’t for their customers. There were more men in that room tonight than women. Are you going to try and convince me you’ve never requested an ambassador?

He hadn’t, but he didn’t argue. The absence of pain would either unleash a burst of energy or make her sleepy. Judging from her stillness, he’d bet on sleepy. He swept his hands from her shoulders to her waist over and over until the last mark faded from her skin.

She didn’t stir when he stood and walked into the bathroom and only murmured when he wiped the smears of blood from her skin. She was right. He had no reason to label her a whore when he was responsible for her dire circumstances.

Tossing the soiled washcloth into the sink in the bathroom, he washed his hands then scanned open the locked compartment containing his supply of the compound. Each dispenser held seven doses and each person was issued the appropriate number of dispensers to last for three months. The dispensers were small enough to tuck into a pocket or purse, but most chose to keep them safely locked away. The compound was ruthlessly controlled by the Gathosians and no one wanted to endure the interrogation and examinations necessary to have their supply replaced.

He swiped the top of the dispenser with his thumb and a thin square of film rolled out of the tiny slot. Any liquid would dissolve the film, so the compound could be added to a beverage. Most people simply placed it on their tongues and let it dissolve in their mouths.

A slightly spicy flavor crept across Ra’jen’s tongue as the film dissolved. The irony never failed to annoy him. The Gathosians had disguised their chains and shackles as a tiny, pleasant-tasting square of film.

The energy he’d expended to heal Autumn had left him jittery and her body was still working overtime to repair the damage. She might seem relaxed, but without a supplemental dose, withdrawal would doubtlessly claim her before morning. His rank allowed him to cut through most bureaucratic red tape. Even so, he had to be extremely careful when it came to the compound.

With the dispenser clasped in the palm of his hand, he returned to his bed. She’d rolled to her side and drawn one leg up. The position offered him a glimpse of one soft breast and highlighted the sleek line from waist to ankle. Her hair fanned out across his pillow in gleaming auburn waves. He’d encountered so many species during his service to the Gathosians that they had begun to blur. So why did he find this one human so damn fascinating?

He sat on the edge of the bed and ran his knuckle across the crest of her cheek. Autumn. She murmured beneath her breath but didn’t open her eyes. He dispensed a square of the film, balancing it on his thumb as he traced her lips with his other hand. Open your mouth. This will make you feel better.

Her lips parted and he pressed his thumb against her tongue, waiting until he felt the film dissolve. She made a distressed sound and he quickly withdrew his thumb, not wanting her to wake up enough to bite him.

What did you...? I taste the compound. She pushed up with one elbow, her expression tense and suspicious. Why did you dose me?

We both needed a little extra. Healing is hard work. He reached down and pulled the sheet up over her delectable body. She was far too tempting and right now she needed rest. I can occasionally supplement my supply without drawing too much attention. I’m pretty sure you can’t say the same.

She pressed the sheet to her chest and didn’t argue, but suspicion still shadowed her gaze.

Get some sleep. I’ll return in an hour or so. He left without further conversation and headed toward the cluster of offices across from the briefing room. The entire building was unusually quiet which didn’t surprise him. He’d returned two days early and caught his men with their pants down, literally.

It was not that he begrudged them the pleasure, but ambassadors were not allowed on base. The men were supposed to fulfill their needs during their free time and at one of the embassies.

After a perfunctory knock, he pushed open the door to Ethan Dorsey’s office. The guilt in his lieutenant’s dark gaze made it obvious he’d participated in the festivities. Who made the arrangements and who footed the bill?

Beta Team brought in their quota ahead of schedule and under budget.

I didn’t ask why. I asked who.

Ethan leaned back in his chair and sighed. Ulrick Brant.

Bastard. He never misses an opportunity to undermine me. Without further discussion, Ra’jen left the office and headed for the civilian side of the complex.

A FAINT BEEPING DREW Autumn back to awareness. She rolled onto her back and sighed. No hint of discomfort remained after her warrior elf healed her. In fact she felt surprisingly rested. With a light tap, she activated the tiny transceiver snuggled in her ear canal. Autumn here, go ahead.

Where are you? Are you all right? Celinna’s worried tone burned away the last of her lethargy.

I’m fine, now. Rebecca modified the velvet whip then left me there bound and gagged when everyone took off.

I sent the shuttle back for you as soon as the others arrived. He’s still outside the gate. Get your ass out there.

I’m not sure I can. She crawled off the bed and tried the door. No, it’s locked.

Where are you? she asked again.

Celinna was the head trainer, second only to Madam Belietta. Would they be angry or thrilled with her predicament? There was only one way to find out. I’m in General Noirte’s quarters.

Oh my God. Are you all right?

I’m fine. He’s been frighteningly civil.

Did you service him? Belietta’s sharp voice came across the link. The madam was always