Page 67 of The Commander

Did he look guilty? Something in his expression? How could she tell he wasn’t being honest? Kitten didn’t have his senses. She couldn’t pick up scent trails, sweat trails, or the way a human disturbed the very space they passed through in twenty different ways. He knew his heart rate was level, and even if it was not, she wouldn’t be able to tell from where she stood, nor was he secreting any obvious tells.

“Please,” she added.

“Fine,” he sighed, defeated. His mate would have to beg for many things, but food, clothing, comfort, and shelter were not included on that list.

“But you will not wear that human shit when you are inside our home.”

“Underwear?”

“Yes.” Pointing to the lowest drawer in a built in wall cabinet, he showed her where she might find her underwear.

He’d dropped a bunch of things in there when he arrived to get them out of his way. Some of it looked like underwear.

“Why are you snapping at me now? What is wrong with underwear?”

“I don’t like it.”

“You sound like I stole your cookie.”

It took Bastian a split second to process the analogy. He agreed. “Exactly that. Finish dressing. I need to see my P.I. You will follow my directions when we are outside this building. All of them.”

Eyebrows scrunched together, Kitten sent him a confused expression as she went to the drawer.

“I just don’t like how the seams rub, and I’m not fond of bouncing all over the place,” she grumbled to herself as she sorted through the drawer.

Watching her bend over again and realizing how much her clothing was going to hide from him, Bastian definitely felt the loss of his cookie. He really liked cookies. Kitten’s cookies. He wanted access at all times, but he also didn’t want anyone else touching them, slobbering on them, or looking at them. She was his favorite cookie. He wasn’t sharing a crumb.

Clothing was an unfortunate necessity if they were going to go to Correction and then into Dalewood to confront the mayor. He would have to see if he could get something made that would suit his needs and the mate of a prime battler.

Finding what she wanted in the drawer, she dressed in an efficient manner. As a child of this world, she’d lived the life of a scavenger. The scraps he’d tossed aside were barely good enough for her needs, but accustomed to survival, she was thankful for it all, smiling at him in appreciation.

He could do better. Would do better. His Kitten wouldn’t have to scavenge any longer.

CHAPTER 21 - BASTIAN

“You stay there.” He positioned his mate just inside the doorway to his office.

“This is like stepping into another world. Another age. I’ve seen pictures of places like this. Like those old high rise towers near the coastline from before the Cyclops hit. If you guys can do this so easily, remake a room like this, why not a building? Why not do it everywhere? Why isn’t your apartment like this?” she asked, taking in the size of his desk, his chair, the equipment, and the clean walls.

“Indeed, I wonder that myself, pet.”

The P.I. was alerted the instant Bastian entered the room. He knew it scanned for Kitten as well, using security sensors placed in the floor and viewers high on the walls, collecting data at all times. She went to take a step forward—he held up his hand. “Stay there and stay quiet. I don’t want Control to know anything else about you.”

They would find out about Kitten. There was no hiding that. He assumed they knew already. But that wasn’t a good enough reason to make anything easy for them.

The P.I. decided to speak after he passed his hand over the scan pad. “Greetings, most exalted big Blue. What’s your wish for today? Did you bring me something to play with? What is that in the corner of the room, just out of reach?”

Kitten’s eyes went wide at the disembodied voice that spoke her own language.

Bastian held up his hand again, motioning her to silence. “Report.”

“Whoa, mellow out, Dude! Is that any way to chill? Can’t you just vibe for a sec? Intro your sweet little chick?”

“Report,” Bastian repeated firmly.

“You’re so uptight. Always gotta bring the harsh. Let’s just ease into this, okay? I’ve been tracking the missing or wasted prime battlers since the Sarrian first spaced on this planet. Found three gone totally off radar. Like, de-listed. Like, no longer breathers. None of ‘em official. I had to make like a bloodhound and sniff down two weird glitches in the exit requests from Sarria and one totally bogus disappearance on your smokin’ ride here, the cruiser class full habitat carrier ship, Anciadrimda’s crew list. Basically, these three commander ranked battlers simply ceased to exist—no scribbles anywhere of death, disappearance, or look sees into the hows and whys.”

“How is that possible? What about the profiles? The tracker threads?” Control held a full profile on anyone who left Sarria as a way to monitor citizens from the inside out.

---