Page 24 of Solan

“Perhaps our rivalry isn’t so petty,” Boros said.

“But your quest for a child is much greater than that. You are greater than that.”

Solan allowed himself a smile. Vegas knew her Galaxar history. Missions and quests were a key part of being a warrior. You prided yourself on achieving challenging quests. What could be more challenging in these times than siring a squib?

Boros scowled at Solan. “The human female is correct. Our battle should not be here.”

“I am correct,” Vegas said. “No fighting while on the space station. If you do, I have it within my power to remove you and your warriors. You will leave with no mate and no chance of a squib. You will be banned from using our services forever. And since we are the only licensed agency offering this service, you will remain childless.”

“You cannot do that,” Boros said sharply. “I have paid for the right to have a mate.”

“You’ve read the terms and conditions of your agreement with us,” Vegas said. “It is laid out there clearly. If you cause or are perceived to have caused harm to the space station, or any recipients on it, then you will be escorted from the space station, as will your associates.”

“Are you intending to escort us off yourself?” Boros’s fingers touched Vegas’s hair. “That would be most amusing.”

Solan kept his hands behind his back again. Boros was touching Vegas. That should not be allowed. Solan wanted to be the only one to touch this female. If she were his, he would ensure no other Galaxar would touch her. He would scent every inch of her skin with his musk, claiming her as his mate. The idea sent a trickle of desire down his spine.

“I’m sure it would be amusing for me to attempt to make you do anything you don’t wish to.” Vegas’s tone was saccharine sweet. “But you know of our security cyborgs on board the space station. They are on hand to ensure order.”

Boros snorted. “Cyborgs are no match for Galaxars.”

“That is not a battle I wish to see.” Vegas turned to Solan. “I trust we will have no problems while you are both on board the station?”

“Not from me,” Solan muttered.

“I assure you, my warriors and I will not disappoint.” Boros took a step back and raised his fist.

Vegas fist-bumped him before running a hand through her hair. “Excellent. Now that everybody is happy, let me finish the security checks and then show you to your quarters.”

Solan noticed the manic glint in Boros’s eyes as they waited for Vegas to check the unaccounted crew members. A low grumble rumbled in his chest. He’d need to watch Boros. He was not a Galaxar who kept his word. Vegas was vulnerable when she was around Boros. That made Solan uneasy.

This female might not realize she needed his protection, but Solan would be on hand to provide it when Boros showed his true colors.

Chapter 7

The alert on Solan’s door buzzed. He had only been in his quarters for five minutes since Vegas had deposited him there before giving him a stern glare as she’d left with Boros.

He’d wanted to protest and remain by her side the whole time Boros was anywhere near her. But he’d seen for himself, Vegas could hold her own. If she was to be his mate, she would have to stand up for herself in difficult situations.

Solan strode to the door and opened it. His second-in-command, Commander Padam stood outside, two bottles of blue liquid in his hands and a twinkle in his dark eyes.

Padam handed him one of the bottles. “I discovered they serve Galaxar beer on the space station. I thought you might appreciate one.”

“Thank you, Commander. Come in.” Only when the doors slid shut did they drop the pretense of being formal. They’d known each other since they were squibs playing battle games together. Despite Solan outranking Padam, their friendship was as solid as ever, and he valued him by his side in battle, and when they were at the bar.

“Have you met your mate yet?” Padam grinned at Solan.

“Not yet. I was having my induction when we were interrupted.”

Padam was an unusually chatty Galaxar. Some people thought he was too feminine and asked too many questions, but there were times when Solan appreciated having someone to talk to. Now was one of them.

Padam regarded him silently as he took a sip of his drink. “Is there a problem?”

“Not with the arrangements.” Solan slumped onto the sturdy gray couch sitting against one wall. “Brigadier Boros is also on board.”

Padam joined him on the couch. “What’s that treacherous sand worm doing here?”

“The same as us. He wants a mate.”