"The Void. Ships stray in, never to return," Riana intoned in a dark, melodramatic voice. "A lot of rot if you ask me," she snorted. "Rumors, lies and innuendos planted by some unscrupulous trader to keep others out of the area."

"So you keep saying," her best friend Sharri quipped from the vidscreen. "Well, it’s about time you listened to me." Riana grinned at Sharri as she drummed her fingers on the console and leaned back in her chair.

"Like I listened to you that time we visited the pleasure planet, Oras?"

"Phfff." Riana dismissed Sharri’s question with an airy wave of her hand. "So I made a little miscalculation. We got out of there with no harm done, didn't we?"

"If you call leaving naked, three jumps ahead of one very angry officer, no harm done, then I guess you could say so."

"She had no reason to issue that warrant for my arrest."

Sharri lifted one perfectly arched brow. "You were caught in a compromising position with her favorite lieutenant," Sharri reminded her. "The woman had her eye on him and you swooped in and stole him from under her very nose."

"He was showing me a hand-to-hand combat technique," Riana sniffed, her chin raised.

"Uh huh. As I recall, you were touching the lieutenant with more than just your hand."

Riana couldn’t keep up the indignant act and started laughing. "You should have seen her face. I don't know which she wanted more, to glare at me or stare at the good Lieutenant's very visible, very fine assets."

"Seriously, Riana, I worry about you. You can't keep hopping from planet to planet searching for some mythical paradise. It's going to land you in serious trouble one day."

"I promise not to go out of my way to look for trouble." Riana drew an X over her chest and tried for a reassuring smile, but the frown knitting her friend's brow didn't go away.

"The problem is you don’t have to look for trouble, it just seems to find you."

"Relax. You worry too much. My gut instinct tells me that this is going to be my most profitable trip yet."

"Your gut instinct is going to get you knee-deep into some major shit."

"Trust me." Riana tapped a key, ending the communication.

She leaned forward, propping her elbows on the console and stared at the blank vidscreen. Sharri worried too much. Already this trip had been extremely profitable. She had half-a-dozen trade contracts safely stored on data node and several new products residing in the hold. Best of all, she’d managed to trade for a map of the Forbidden Sector, better known as the Void, nearly six weeks ago.

Rumors and legends abounded about the Void. Reputedly, any ship that entered its boundaries never came out. Lost forever. Never to be heard from again. Gone.

Or so they said.

Snakebird pucky. The ships either got caught in the ferocious storms that her sensors could pick up from almost half a parsec away, or found some of the fabled planets hinted at in ancient texts and kept their mouths shut. Planets where treasure was supposed to drip from the trees like drops of rain.

Not that she believed in the tales of treasure.

Exactly.

One had to wonder, though. Riana slid a slender volume bound in real leather towards her. She opened it to the middle, handling the fragile pages with reverence, until she came across the now-familiar intricately-detailed drawing of a dragon, its wings an iridescent wash of color, the body done in faded tones of jewel colors.

She loved old books, the kind you could hold in your hands, could smell the scent of paper and leather, could feel. Riana brushed her finger over the drawing. She still couldn’t believe that a map of the Void was in a centuries-old book of erotic romance.

Did Mia Gorganos, a shrewd trader in her own right, have even the slightest idea of what she had sold her?

Somehow, she doubted it.

Riana settled back in her chair, determined that this time she would unlock all of the dragon’s secrets. Hours later, just as she was once again ready to admit defeat, one detail on the star map stood out. The same small anomaly she’d stared at a hundred times before. With one finger, she canted the left bottom corner down a fraction.

Her heart began to pound. Unable to believe her eyes, she compared what was on the monitor to the dragon map again. Then a third time. Goddess. If her calculations were correct, she was only two weeks from the nearest planetary system depicted in the illustration.

Riana closed her eyes. She’d done it. She was the first trader in ... Goddess, she didn’t know how long ... to successfully navigate the Forbidden Sector. Let Sharri say ‘I told you so’ now.

But, somehow, the victory fell flat.

Riana stretched to ease her aching back muscles and closed the book. Was Sharri right? Was she searching for paradise?

Had she really spent the last ten years going from one planetary system to another searching for something that didn’t even exist? Was her restlessness, her inability to stay in one place more than a sennight, her constant yen to find new excitement, nothing more than a convenient excuse to avoid recognizing her discontent?

She tapped her thumbnail on her bottom lip, considering the possibility. Perhaps there was a grain of truth in what Sharri said. Maybe she was looking for something, but she’d be willing to bet her new trade contracts that it wasn’t paradise. No, if she were honest with herself, she’d admit she was looking for something much more basic than that.

She was looking for a place to belong.

Riana winced inwardly at her own deliberate blindness. She’d taken great care to hide from the truth. What other explanation could there be? Goddess knew she’d had enough hints. How many times had she fallen asleep and dreamt she was doomed to wander from planet to planet? Oh, she’d managed to tell herself it was just fatigue and then she’d drag Sharri off to some pleasure planet or find a little adventure on her own.

Those dreams weren’t the worse, however. Oh, no. The dreams that really unsettled her were the ones where she’d settle down with a man and raise a family. In her dreams he was always the same: blond, tall, and treated her like a queen. In short, the perfect man.

Riana snorted in self-disgust.

Yeah, right. As if a man like that would look at her twice. She could fight like a man, drive a harder bargain than a pleasure planet hostess negotiating price for one of her whores, and had more scars from her ‘little adventures’ than most warriors gained in a lifetime. Still, the question nagged at her.

What would it be like to actually belong somewhere, to someone?

She scowled. The Goddess take Sharri for raising these doubts in the first place.

A shrill alarm jarred Riana out of her uneasy musings. Her ship shuddered. Nearly thrown out of her chair, she desperately reached to disengage the autopilot. Before her fingers could key the command, the gravity cut out and she was thrown violently against the bulkhead.

* * * *

"Surrender."

A deep voice murmured the command in Riana's ear as hard hands wrapped leather manacles around her wrists. Groggy, disoriented from the crash of her sleek, small ship, the word was slow to penetrate. When it did, pure instinct took over. Riana slammed her knee upward, catching the man beside her on the side of the head.

He grunted, his fingers slipping from the buckle on the manacle.

Riana scrambled to her feet, ignoring the burning pain in her knee. Swinging her hand in a downward, backhanded fist, she caught the man just below the temple, rocking him back on his heels. Not giving him a chance to recover, she pivoted on one leg, the heel of her other foot aimed with deadly precision for the leather-clad warrior's throat.

She might have succeeded if the ship hadn't shifted without warning.

Riana lost her balance and landed heavily on the floor. The breath knocked out of her, she couldn't summon the necessary strength to fight when he covered her body with his.

The metallic studs on his gauntlet bit painfully into her breastbone and his hand circled her throat, the threat obvious; cooperate or be choked. Long, silky hair, as dark as his expression, brushed her cheek, the side of her neck. His scent, hot, exotic and all male, enveloped her.

Riana shivered.

His forearm slid up slightly. Her breath caught in her throat as her eyes met his. She had just enough time to realize his eyes were the color of antique gold before she felt a round, metallic object just below her ear, a jolt of pain, and then nothing.

* * * *

She awoke cold, so cold. Wind whipped by her body, hitting with stunning force between her parted legs.

What the--?

She was naked!

She jerked her wrists up to cover herself. They wouldn’t move. Panic clogged her throat and she went lightheaded. That scared her even more. Mustn’t panic. She took several deep breaths. Slowly, bits and pieces of the storm, the crash and the huge warrior who demanded her surrender, returned until she remembered everything.

She almost wished she hadn’t.

Then she chided her momentary cowardice. She’d been in worse predicaments and survived. Like the time the pirates along the Ivory Lane tried to steal her cargo. Not one item in her hold had been lost. So what if she had a few, alright, several scars as a permanent reminders? She’d won.

Okay, she was tied to an aircycle. A state-of-the-art aircycle. She breathed a tiny sigh of relief. At least she wasn’t stranded on some backwater planet without the means to contact Sharri. Even if she couldn’t return to her ship right away, she’d have a chance at accessing a comm device.

Her lips thinned.

Damn ion storm. It came from out of nowhere throwing all of Midnight Mischief’s systems into overload. Her throat tightened at the thought of her baby damaged, perhaps beyond repair.

No, she mustn’t think that way. Escape. Concentrate on escaping.

Riana tilted her head back, trying to find a familiar pattern in the stars. A lump settled into her stomach. Everything looked strange, distorted. Why hadn’t she spent more time memorizing the area instead of reading that damn novel over and over and daydreaming about its hero?

So what else? If only her mind wasn’t so fuzzy. Her mouth was dry, too. Did she have a concussion? Riana accessed her damage. Outside of a headache, probably the result of the second knock on her head, she had none of the other signs of a serious head wound. That meant the effects of the crash were only temporary.

She shut out the pounding in her head and glanced at her surroundings. Riana had the impression of trees flying by, but it was so dark she couldn’t make out any distinct details. There was a minute change in the aircycle’s inclination. Someone not intimately attuned to a ship’s roll would have never noticed.

Riana noticed.

The ‘cycle leveled out and stayed that way. Instead of the darker shadows of trees, there was a sense of openness. Desert or Plains, she thought, and closed her eyes. Only to have them fly open.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" she choked out, only to have the force of her rage ruined by chattering teeth. "Let me go!" She tugged at her bonds, but this time her captor had taken more care in securing her. Not only were her ankles bound to the 'cycle's struts, but her arms were pulled back and fastened behind her captor's hips, snugging her in tight against the vee of his thighs.

"Do not take that tone with me or Punishment will be much worse."

"Punishment? What punishment? I haven't done anything wrong," she hissed, twisting her wrists even though she knew she couldn't get free. Goddess Zaida save her, she'd fallen into the hands of a barbarian.

Think, Riana. Think!

"Since you are an offworlder, I will explain this one time. You broke a Rule, therefore you must be Punished."

"What rule? Damn you, make sense!"

"You tried to escape."

His voice, dark, rich as chocolate, made her think of warm beds and hot sex.

Goddess, she had lost her mind. That was it. She'd been knocked senseless from the rough landing and was dreaming all this. Her teeth slammed down on the tip of her tongue as the 'cycle hit a pocket of air. Pain, sharp and immediate, made it clear this was no nightmare.

"You're kidding, right? Tell me you're kidding. Of course I tried to escape. I woke to you shackling me. What did you expect?" she demanded, as it sank in her captor was serious. She tried to twist so she could see his face, but he moved his chin from the top of her head and rested it on her shoulder, preventing her.

"You must learn such actions are unacceptable." His lips tickled her ear, but it was the calm, even tones that riveted Riana's attention.

One, large hand left the handlebars.

Riana tensed.

He toggled a switched on the dashboard, putting the ‘cycle on autopilot.

Riana couldn’t tear her gaze from his leather-clad hands, watching them the way a trapped gizal watched a water serpent.

Both hands now free, he removed the black leather glove from his left hand, and then his right, the action slow and deliberate. On the back of his right hand a ragged scar started at his middle knuckle and snaked its way past his wrist to half-way up his arm.

Fear chased up her spine.

His hand bumped her bound wrists as he tucked the gloves into his belt.

One large hand came around to cup her right breast, the heat from his callused palm after the cold wind was exquisitely painful.

She bit back a moan. "Don't."

His thumb and forefinger pinched her nipple.

Riana gave a startled yelp and tried to lean away from his touch. He hadn't really hurt her, but the threat of pain was just below the surface.

His touch eased and he rotated her nipple, pinching and pulling at her sensitive flesh. He covered the distended nipple with his palm until her flesh heated, creating an oasis of warmth from the cold. His left hand cradled her other breast, mirroring the erotic action of his right hand.

Riana felt her breath quicken. Shivits, she was beginning to respond. She straightened her spine with a snap and tried to scoot backwards. All she succeeded in doing was lodging herself more intimately into the vee of his spread thighs. She shot forward again. Captive, unable to evade his touch, Riana waited for his next move, her heart beating in a harsh, staccato rhythm.

Her captor removed his right hand from her breast, only to return almost at once. He circled her nipple with his wet forefinger.

A muffled cry of protest slipped past her hard won control. The bastard had wet his finger. The cold air rushed over the now wet flesh causing her nipple to pucker painfully.

"No," she moaned, wriggling desperately against the icy chill.

He removed his left hand and treated that breast to the same sensual torment.

Riana tried to brace herself, but it was useless. A half sob escaped her clenched teeth.

He smoothed his palms down her ribs, outlining each ridge with a delicate precision. He paused half way down her side, then retraced his path.

Chills chased over her skin as the rough tips of his fingers explored a scar--a savage reminder of a run-in with a Delvidian snakebird--with surprising delicateness. The slow seduction after the pain was enough to begin to drive her from her mind.

His hand began moving again, lower, lower, until he grazed her stomach with a light touch.

The nerves beneath his palms fluttered, setting off sparks that went straight to her core, and to her horror, she felt her sex grow wet with desire.

She squeezed her eyes shut. Don't think about what he's doing to you, she mentally chanted over and over, only to be distracted by a heated moan. The betraying sound had come from her lips. Focus, Riana. Focus on what you’re going to do to him once you get your freedom.

She'd kill him. A slow and horrible death. She savored the thought of taking her time, enjoying each second of his demise. Maybe she’d feed him to a snakebird when she was done.

He slowly, erotically, separated the swollen petals of her labia, shattering her concentration. The cold wind became an icy whip that flicked her clit to greater arousal. Her lower body became a study in heat and cold.

Goddess, she was going to die from the pleasure.

The wetness between her legs became a flood. She lifted her hips, frustrated to the point of screaming when she discovered she was too tightly bound to move far enough to brush her throbbing clit against his teasing fingers. "Oh, Goddess, help me," she moaned as a relentless tide of desire rushed over her.

His roughened fingertips moved a fraction of a centimeter closer to her clit.

“Please.”

He moved his fingers over her clit, caressing her, stroking her distended tab of flesh, using her juices as lubricant to smooth the way.

"Yes. Oh, yes," she hissed in unbearable relief.

He shifted behind her, placing his mouth on the side of her neck and bit gently.

A shiver slid down her spine, heightening her enjoyment. A part of her was stunned at her reaction, amazed at her lack of protest at having a complete stranger take control of her body. He began to suck on her neck and his hand moved up to cup her breast, ensnaring that shocked part of her in passion.

Riana arched her spine, throwing her head back, encouraging him to continue.

He pressed his thumb against her slit.

She began to burn deep inside her. She smelled her own arousal. The light, musky fragrance embarrassed her as nothing else had, not even her nudity.

He moved his thumb only to slip a finger inside her, thrusting it in and out while his thumb flicked against her clit.

The burn became a furnace as he slipped another finger inside and stretched her, testing her tightness.

Colors shimmered behind her closed eyes. "More, please, more," she breathed over and over. Her hips lifted and fell, matching the rhythm of her captor's invading fingers.

He removed his hand and leaned back until he was no longer touching her.

Dazed, it took her a moment to realize the meaning behind his action. The huge warrior had no intention of giving her fulfillment.

"No!" Her scream ripped through the night, only the vast indifference of space hearing her cry of rage. "Damn, you! Why are you doing this to me? I did you no harm. All I did was crash on your planet. On my world, we help stranded visitors. I'm a trader, for Goddess sake!" she stormed, only half aware of what she was saying. Inside, the fire of passion burned; outside, the wind turned the proof of her arousal icy, mocking her uncontrolled response.

"You are no longer on your world. You are in Nexar."

They were the first words he had spoken to her since he began teasing and tormenting her.

Riana sucked in a breath and forced herself to regain a modicum of control. "You will pay for this outrage. I swear I will make you pay."

Her overheated body began to cool off, and shudder after shudder ripped through her.

"No. You will learn your place. How difficult you find your adjustment is purely up to you." His hands slipped between her thighs again.

"No!" Riana screamed.

He ignored her.

Her nerve endings roared to life. The muscles in Riana's stomach clenched in protest. Goddess, this couldn't be happening. The folds of flesh between her legs, soft and moist, plumped with immediate arousal. Riana slammed her legs together, but it was a futile gesture as the saddle of the aircycle kept them obscenely wide. Fury and panic hit her, laying waste to any semblance of control. She jerked, this way and that, struggling to rip her bonds loose.

Her captor let her wear herself out, his hands between her legs the entire time.

Sobbing for air, awash with humiliation, Riana breathed brokenly, "Who are you? Answer me!"

He remained silent.

"Damn you, the least you could do is tell me your name."

His response was to slip his finger, slick from her body, inside her.

Time lost all meaning. Her captor brought her to the brink of fulfillment, time and time again, only to deny her release. Her own broken sobs and pleas rang in her ears.

Lost in the sensations her captor had aroused, Riana was only vaguely aware of the aircycle slowing to a stop. Every nerve in her body quivered with influx of sensory overload. Even the touch of the breeze was painful.

"Please, no more," she begged as she felt movement behind her.

He freed one of her hands and placed it on his groin. He wasn't the slightest bit aroused.

It was the final humiliation.

He leaned forward. "I am Darias, your master."

* * * *

Darias sat in his office, his gaze shuttered as he stared out the window at the light, almost bluish-white sky. Drought ravaged the countryside. Heat shimmered off of the parched ground while, nearby, the Grangian mountain range took on a silvery green hue, not the rich, vibrant green that was its normal appearance. The thick walls of the keep kept the room comfortably cool, though.

Darias frowned. Nexar needed rain. The largest of the three country-states on the planet Tarbos, the prolonged dry spell was having a disastrous effect on its economy. Even the crystal birds refused to sing.

A hot, spicy breeze blew through the partially open window, ruffling the piles of reports on his desk that demanded his attention. He ignored them, turning his mind toward his latest problem.

His men were afraid he was going soft.

The cause? One slender woman whose head didn’t even come up to his shoulders.

He pinched the bridge of his nose. So much for his plan to find ease from his duties in her soft, rounded body. Riana had been nothing but trouble since he took her off her ship. She questioned everything. Down to the clothes she was to wear. According to her, they were obscene. Obscene! Women had worn the silk tunic and trousers for centuries. Riana had practically lectured his ears off on a woman’s right to decide what she would wear. He had to admit, though, he’d taken the coward’s way out and escaped to the stables to avoid her sharp tongue.

What he should have done was Punish her in the garden. Made her see that it was not a woman’s place to tell the male what she would and would not do. He pushed back his chair and began pacing the room.

Krel, she even had the nerve to comment on his decision not to seek trade negotiations with the Far Islands. The woman hadn’t even been in Nexar for three seven-days, and she believed herself qualified to second-guess his policies.

Still, he had not Punished her as severely as he should have.

He told himself that because she was an offworlder, it was alright to make allowances for her, but he was beginning to wonder if his men had a point. Perhaps he was too soft with his little slave.

The mutters from his warriors were fast turning to rumbles. He was going to have to quell the unrest, and quick, or there would be revolt.

He sat back down in the chair, determined to find a course of action when there was a knock at his office door.

"Enter."

Gaith, his first-in-command, strode in, shutting the door behind him.

Darias sighed. From the look on Gaith's face, Darias was certain he was about to confront him regarding Riana.

"You've got to do something about her," Gaith said bluntly.

He was right. "Not you, too." Darius stifled a groan and leaned back in his chair, regarding his friend.

"She's inciting Bryta to rebellion. I had to Punish Bryta in the garden last night." Gaith paced in front of the desk before dropping into a chair opposite Darius’ desk. He ran his hand through his short brown hair. "Bryta is an obedient woman. She'd never think of defying me if it wasn't for your slave."

"What did Bryta do?" His brow rose. The garden? As far as he knew, Gaith's Punishments had always been rather mild. The other warriors occasionally teased his friend about his partiality toward his woman.

Gaith looked away, a deep flush creeping up his cheeks. "She informed me in the Great Hall, in a loud and clear voice no less, that I was wrong not to listen to her advice. She went on to say my opinions on a woman's proper place were backward and asinine."

"And how is this my slave’s fault?" But Darias already knew. He'd been given the same pithy lecture several times. He could practically hear her instructing Bryta in her offworlder ways.

"None of this discord between me and Bryta occurred until after you brought her here. And I've heard several of the other warriors make similar complaints. She's disruptive, Darias." Gaith thrust his jaw out. "You've got to bring her in line before she causes serious problems. You've got to control her."

The door to the office burst open. Riana stormed in, looking like she wanted to kill someone. Her target became clear when her furious gaze settled on Gaith.

"How dare you do that to Bryta?" She planted her hands on her hips, her eyes snapping with green fire.

Darias got the distinct impression it was so she wouldn't strangle his first-in-command.

"You humiliated her. Have you no feelings?"

Gaith stood up, his face dark with anger.

Darias placed a restraining hand on Gaith’s arm before his friend did something that would require his vengeance. "Be quiet, Riana."

Riana turned on Darias at his quiet command. Even the tips of her hair quivered with her outrage. "As for you, how can you allow this? I knew you were a barbarian that first night, but I didn't realize you could be this cruel."

"Leave us," he directed to Gaith.

The warrior gave one short nod and turned on heel and left.

"Well?" she demanded.

"I’ve been too lenient with you."

"Hah! You call forcing me to wear these too lenient?" She swept her hand down indicating the open leather brassiere, worn over a spidersilk blouse that lifted and separated her breasts. “And these?” She tugged at her belle trousers, the open girdle riding low on her hips, cupping her intimately before trailing between her legs, accentuating the rounded curves of her buttocks.

What was she babbling about? The outfit was no different from that any other woman wore. He frowned as he couldn’t help but notice the defined outline of her nipples beneath the spidersilk.

She glowered at him. "If that wasn't bad enough, you expect me to have no opinion."

"You have no opinion. You are a slave."

Her eyes sparked with rage.

A rage that threatened to burn him. Darias shifted his legs under the desk as desire made his breeches too tight.

"A woman's place is not to say anything, but to accept and learn from her transgressions," she quoted, her voice tight. "I know, I know. You've tried to get me to accept that drivel before."

Darias shoved to his feet. He planted his hands on the desk.

She tossed her head, jolting her hair free of its confining tie.

For a moment he was distracted by the sight of her burnished copper hair. He ached to bury his hands in the waterfall of curls, letting it slide over his body. He’d bet his contract with the builders’ guild it was softer than the finest spidersilk.

Darias fought the aching need with anger. "Take care, Riana, not to push me too far. Until now, I've tolerated many of your lapses."

"Tolerated many of my lapses? Is that what you tell yourself, my lord? Is that how you appease your conscience? The truth is you punish me for the slightest reason and then disappear for a couple of days. Do you do that so you don't have to face me the next morning? Do you fear having to look into my eyes and admit you wronged me?" She tilted her head and waited. When he didn’t say anything, she circled the desk and jabbed him in the chest with one finger.

I do it so I'm not tempted to take you to my bed and make love to you until we both forget our positions.

The admission was like a shock of icy water over Darias. Instinctively, he sought to deny it, to make excuses. Of course he found her desirable, but she was just a slave.

He couldn't, however, lie to himself. He never had before, and he wouldn't start now.

The truth was he made himself stay from her bed as long as possible before giving into his need because he was afraid she'd make him throw tradition to the wind and make love to her in ways that were forbidden. It was also the reason he left the keep after Punishing her; he was weakest then. Riana was bright. Once she figured it out, she'd seize the chance to use his desire against him.

He grabbed her wrist and moved her hand away from his chest. His men were right. Riana had too much power over him. If he let her, she would make him soft.

"Go to our garden and await me there."

Pure fury flashed in her eyes before she shuttered her gaze. "I thought you were many things, my lord, but I never took you for a coward." Her spine straight, her head held high, she turned and left the office, slamming the door behind her.

His resolve hardened. It was time Riana accepted her place in Nexar society.

* * * *

The sky filled with a last blaze of glory before darkness, softening the garden with its lengthening shadows. Riana rubbed her arms and paced the gravel walk of the garden. She was under no delusions about what was to come. Only this afternoon she'd learned about the Punishment Stone. Punishment in the garden was reserved for serious offenses. Bryta had refused to talk about all the details, but the strain in her friend's eyes and her obvious discomfort several hours after punishment, spoke volumes. She’d been outraged on her friend's behalf, and tracked Gaith down in Darias’ office. What good had it done? Had she expected him to apologize to Bryta? To admit he'd wronged his mate?

A wry smile twisted Riana's lips. The sun circling Nexar would go nova long before either of those things happened. Her anger had overruled her good sense.

Time and time again, she'd told Bryta and her other new friends not to outright defy the system. That working quietly was much more effective. So why couldn't she heed her own advice and hold her tongue on occasion? She wiped her palms against her thighs.

Because she couldn't resist the urge to make Darias see that many aspects of Nexarian society were archaic, not to mention downright barbarous.

Like their concept of Punishment.

After listening to the women speak of trying to please their masters, seeing the resignation on their faces at their inability to do so, Darias’ refusal to even consider the possibility of change became even more infuriating. So she'd encouraged the woman to quiet resistance.

Now she had to live with the fact that her meddling directly caused Bryta's punishment.

And the fact that Bryta did not hold her actions against her only deepened her sense of guilt.

Somehow, someway, she had to gain access to her ship. It was tantalizingly close, stored in a makeshift shed inside the keep's walls. Once she inside the ship, being recaptured wasn't a concern--Bryta had told her of Gaith's complaints at the warriors' inability to open the craft. Even if the ship was too damaged to be space-worthy, she could still hold off the whole of Darias’ army for the length of time it would take to contact Sharri and wait for rescue. If the Goddess was with her, however, damage to the Midnight Mischief systems would be minimal, something she could fix herself.

Her hands clenched. Krel take Darias for keeping tabs on her whereabouts every nanosecond of the day.

A chill that had nothing at all to do with cold, slid down Riana's back as the sun dropped below the horizon. Think, Riana, think. There had to be a way to get past the guards and aboard her ship. Even more importantly, she had to find a way around Darias.

He would leave the keep in the morning.

He always left after a punishment.

Her stomach tightened.

Punishment. Just the memory of the last time sent tendrils of panic crawling through her. The sheer humiliation of not being able to control her responses filled her with repugnance. She’d always prided herself on her control. Yet tonight’s punishment promised to be so much worse, than the others. She couldn't get Bryta's strained expression out of her mind.

But his leaving the keep was her only chance to slip aboard her ship. She inhaled a deep, shuddering breath. So be it. She hadn't planned it this way, but she'd be a fool not to take advantage of the opportunity that it offered. All she had to do was endure tonight's punishment. She scrubbed her palms against her trousers again.

Once off this benighted planet, she'd find some way to help Bryta and the other women--and make Darias rue his decision to take her captive.

Riana inhaled again, hoping to calm her nerves. A myriad of sweet, spicy fragrances swirled around her, but they didn't have a calming effect. Tiny flutters of disquiet continued to play havoc with her stomach.

Goddess, she hated waiting.

She heard the quiet snick of a latch closing, and then footsteps crunched on the gravel until they were directly behind her. She tensed, knowing to whom they belonged. Steeling herself, she turned and faced the royal chambers.

Darias took her by the arm, leading her deeper into the garden. He turned into an alcove that Riana had thought a dead-end. Now she saw that a small path wound around the tall, shrub wall.

Disquiet became outright dread when what Bryta called the Punishment Stone loomed into view. Hewn of a smooth, pure white stone, it was carved into the curved shape of a reclining bench. Her gaze landed on the sight of thin leg supports, complete with stirrups and cuffs, sending her nerves fluttering into hyperspeed.

"Privacy shield." An electronic crackle and a muted shower of sparkles caused the fine hairs on her arms to stand up. Darias continued walking until he was a meter in front of her. The crisp, controlled movements of his lithe, muscular body spoke volumes about his determination to punish her for her infractions.

"I thought the whole point of this exercise was to shame me before all?" Riana cursed her quick tongue. Striking out when scared was a bad habit of hers. Another thing that Sharri had warned her was going to get her into trouble.

He waited a long heartbeat before answering. "It is against custom for a Punishment to be observed by outsiders." He paused again. "They will hear you."

A glint of light from around his neck caught and held her gaze. Suspended on a leather thong, the carved fireice gemstone--his badge of rank--caught the diluted light of the moon and gleamed like the eyes of a panthra cat. She shivered, that small wink of light nestled in the hollow of his throat somehow ominous.

"Like Zaida they will," Riana shot back, hoping they weren't idle words. Nexarian punishment was all-too effective, she'd learned.

"Fight me and I will take your Punishment into the daylight hours."

Pure panic unfurled and rose in her throat. His tone broke no argument. Her plans to use Darias’ absence after punishment flew to the four winds. She had to escape now! "Shield down." Nothing happened. Riana backed up one step, then another. "Shield down." She hated the slight note of hysteria in her voice.

"It is keyed to my voice alone. Try to go through it and it will render you unconscious. Lights on." Inside the dome formed by the shield, darkness gave way to a diffuse glow.

Darias removed his heavy black cloak, and slung the garment over a bush.

Riana backed up a pace, but was only too aware she had no place to run.

He turned to her with a look of determination. "Remove your clothes."