She giggled, squeezing his hand. Even though his touch and presence turned her on, she was a bit surprised by the idea of children… dragon children. Sasha didn’t know if she could cope with being regularly bathed in flame.
Whelon guided her into a nearby room and tingles of relief raced up Sasha’s spine. It was filled with women, ordinary human women. On the way to the space they had passed a lot of Preor, and they all turned down their eyes with such reverence it had started to make her feel uneasy.
The way these women were happily spread around the room, talking and gossiping comforted her immediately. They all reacted with excited shouts and hurried over to hug her.
Well, the pretty woman with brown hair hurried. The other two waddled.
“So nice to meet you!” The woman’s eyes were the softest and kindest Sasha had ever seen. She seemed to emanate comfort and peace with her mere presence. “I’m Dawn.” She kissed Sasha on the cheek. “Welcome!”
The other two ladies approached, one holding her lower back and the other with her hands pressed to her belly.
“I’m Grace.” She extended on hand to Sasha, the other remaining on her lower back. “Nice to meet you.”
“And I’m Carla.” Like Grace, she kept one hand to herself to steady her belly and shook Sasha’s hand with the other.
“Um, Sasha,” she said, suddenly shy. She shook both hands and ducked her head, feeling self-conscious for the first time in her life. These women had a presence about them, something awesome she could never measure up to.
I’m just a bottom-feeding paparazzi! she admonished herself. These are like ancient, sacred wives for kings!
“You are, too.” Dawn murmured softly. “You’re not claimed yet, but you soon will be.”
Sasha waited to be afraid or resentful of the fact that Dawn had invaded her mind somehow, but all she experienced was comfort. Dawn meant her no harm.
Grace gestured for them to come further into the room as Carla set up the tea pot. Sasha was looking forward to a few minutes to catch her breath when the display screen—the Preor version of a television—crackled and flashed to life with a news bulletin.
“Breaking news interrupts our usual broadcast. We must advise that local celebrity Sasha Dane has been abducted by the Preor.”
“Oh, fuck,” she muttered. “They’re using my full name.”
“You’re Sasha Dane!” Carla squealed. “Oh, my God. I loved you in Waves of Passion.”
“Oh, please don’t,” Sasha moaned. “That project was absolute murder and incredibly boring.”
“It nailed the romance formula, though,” Grace remarked.
“Why does it matter that they are using your full name?” Whelon interrupted their girl-talk.
“My mother likes Sasha, single name. Like Cher, or whatever. When they use your full name it’s kind of like they assume you’re already dead.”
“Dead?” Whelon echoed in confusion.
Sasha shook her head and looked back to the screen. The broadcast went on for a few minutes. Her mother had gotten excellent footage of her getting into the shuttle, and Whelon helping her up into the seat actually looked a lot like he manhandled her.
“Fuck,” she muttered. Whelon reached out and took her hand as if he knew what was coming next. “I have to go back.”
Chapter Twenty
Sasha’s words stabbed Whelon right through the chest. It might have been a bit presumptuous of him, but he had believed that once he got her on the ship, she would never want to depart.
“I cannot let you go,” he growled low. He tried to sound reasonable, but his dragon had awakened and he knew he would lose control if he had to watch his mate leave him.
She turned to him, her dark blue eyes filled with love. “I know how you feel.” She rubbed his arm gently. “But I have to go. The situation will become violent within a few hours.”
“She’s not kidding, Whelon,” Grace spoke with a warning in her tone. “Check this out.”
She flicked over to a different news station, and crowds of people had gathered around Preor Tower. Some screamed, “Free Sasha! Death to the Preor!” while others fought back with, “Preor save us!”
Sasha shook her head and rubbed her temples, as if both sides gave her a headache.
Grace flicked through a few more channels and, sure enough, there was Sasha’s mother. Appearing tearful and panicked, she spoke about how Sasha had not been herself since the Choosing incident.
“She’s infected,” Jenna cried. “I know it’s some kind of poison taking her over. She’s not my little girl anymore.” Then she sobbed theatrically into a tissue. Sasha’s eyes narrowed when she saw one of her mother’s eyes swivel up to track the camera in the midst of her “grief.” Whelon was utterly disgusted by the fake display of Sasha’s dam. He could not believe his mate was so calm, but he did spy the first stirrings of fury within her.
Her fingers tightened and her lips pulled down as well as her eyelids flickering and her breath quickening. He noted these signs for the future, knowing she could hide her emotions from him if she wanted, but he ached to know her so well she could never hide from him.
Dawn looked over at Sasha with sad eyes. When she reached out and rubbed her arm, Sasha trembled. She knew she experienced love flowing from Dawn. It was so strong and pure, Sasha almost cried, and Whelon held her as she shook. He doubted she had ever felt anything so honest in her life.
Dawn loved everything and everyone. It was complete and unconditional.
“We can heal anything here, Sasha,” Dawn murmured gently. “Even a mother’s wounds.”
Sasha looked away, obviously not prepared to admit she had those types of injuries. Whelon noticed her distress and took her hand, lacing their fingers together.
“I shall go too, then,” he announced. “Let us go to the surface and put a stop to this.”
The display revealed
