Page 51 of Possessed By the Leonid King

Rupex stopped his lecture as he realized Layla’s eyes were fluttering shut. “Enough talk. Bed.”

LAYLA WOKE UP TO AN empty room, ensconced in her big, soft bed aboard the Comet Stalker. Rupex was nowhere to be found, and the digitized numbers next to the bed showed it was early the next morning.

“Ru?”

Nothing.

Well. You can’t have him with you every second.

Even if it feels like you want to. What’s going to happen when this quarantine situation lifts? He’ll be zipping all around the galaxy—far, far into the Felix Orbus galaxy if Marcus and Dane have anything to say about it.

But hopefully to Sapien-Three or the Milky Way Intergalactic Port first. Her stomach knotted. Gotta find Wendy, Dax, and Elio.

Gotta get cleaned up and act like a member of this crew!

Layla bathed, dressed, and took care of her hygienic needs, missing Rupex more than she would like to admit. Having a period had made her feel dirty and inconvenient on Sapien-Three. Rupex regarded it as a monthly treat, a feast, and his tongue tracing over her achy body made her feel wonderful.

She switched on the media viewer as she sorted through the clothing she’d bought from Alana’s hut.

A stoic Tigerite male in a dark suit was speaking with a Leonid male, also in an immaculate suit.

“Containment measures are proving effective. Our booster programs have been rolled out. Now, it does take about three weeks to reach a state of higher I-cells, which help evade the Queen Fever,” the Leonid explained, gesturing to footage behind him of young Leonid females getting shots at a clinic in a sparkling white clinic.

“That’s excellent news, Minister Swanet. What about planets on the outer rim of the galaxy?”

“Convoys have reached them with emergency supplies. So far, there have been no deaths reported from the virus on most of the outer planets.”

The Tigerite leaned forward and the screen filled with his face. “Excellent news for the Felix Orbus Galaxy. Sadly, the Sirius Federation has reported six hundred deaths and over three thousand hospitalizations. The best scientists in the Intergalactic Health Alliance are working on formulating boosters specific to Canid immune systems. Let’s go via Comm-Link to Dr. Anwar from Sirius-One.”

Layla gawped at the screen as a dog-dude in green medical garb appeared, looking exhausted. He reminded her of the seedy dancers at the Anthro-Club, the ones who wore collars and had jackal masks. Only this guy was truly a handsome being with glistening black fur, bright blue-gray eyes, and a muscular build.

“I wonder if that’s what Ru’s brother-in-law looks like?” she murmured.

“No, he’s more like a brown wolf, and he styles his fur to look like one of those hotshot pilots.” Rupex’s voice made her leap up from the edge of the bed.

“Rupex!” She ran toward him. “I didn’t mean to sleep all night.”

“You must have needed it. I wasn’t too concerned—although I did check on you several times.” Rupex came to her side and stroked her hair. “The other day, you said I could pick out a special thanks or gift.” He coughed into his paw. “Would... what would a human female assume if a male she’d been intimate with requested her company alone for several hours? The whole night?”

“That he wants to do some naughty mattress dancing?” Layla quirked one eyebrow up.

“Yes.” Rupex coughed into his paw. “Yes.”

“Why? Is that what you want? You only have to purr and I come running.” Layla lightly tapped his elbow, hoping he’d lose the strange grimace gracing his muzzle. “I’m yours pretty much every night—at least until we achieve conception.”

The grimace deepened, pain smashing across his features so deeply that even the proud Leonid King couldn’t conceal it. “If I were to return the contract to you—”

“What?” Layla felt her stomach drop out of her, and yet she still felt queasy. “We had a deal! No. No, I don’t agree! Not without a whole lot of explaining and—”

“Shh! Shh, my Layla, no. I didn’t mean I wish to return your contract. I wish... I wish that I could have a brief cessation of the contract, just for one night.”

Why? Why does he want that? Does he want to do something with someone else? Who? Where would he find someone else? The contract isn’t exclusive when it comes to dating. Not that it had to be. I wasn’t a hired bride. I was an incubator.

“You want out?” she whispered.

“Yes, even with a swift verbal agreement. May I have a pause on our contract for tonight? Or tomorrow? When is convenient for you?” Rupex’s smile returned, brimming with relief.

Layla couldn’t understand it. She kept her answers brief. “Tonight, tomorrow, whenever.” She shrugged.

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