Breeder by Cara Bristol Read Free Book Online Page B

Without fear of being scalded or jolted by an icy blast, she luxuriated in the water. She recognized the scent of the cleansing gel; it had clung to Commander. Her stomach quivered. Would he notice the scent on her the way she had noticed it on him? She’d lathered her body and hair, rinsed off the suds, and repeated the washing because she could. Afterward, she brushed her hair until it draped down to her waist. She’d donned a clean shift, the beige fabric crisp and new, and hurried to complete the evening meal.
    The men were waiting in the smaller dining room when she arrived, carrying a platter laden with meat and tubers. “I will bring the rest,” she said and placed her load on the table. She returned with a bowl of fresh vegetables and a tureen of gravy.
    “I baked a sweetcake to finish the meal,” she said.
    Under the scrutiny of both men, her hands shook with nerves as she dished out the food, serving Alpha first. She prayed she wouldn’t spill hot gravy on his lap. After she had doled out Corren’s portion, she stood by the wall with hands folded, ready to respond to further needs. Her stomach growled. She hoped the noise wasn’t audible and that she had passed her first test by providing an adequate meal.
    She bowed her head and watched from underneath her lashes to gauge their reaction. After Alpha forked a bit into his mouth, Corren picked up his utensil, cut into his meat with a knife, and took a bite. His eyes hardened, and he moved as if to shove the plate away. Her rumbling stomach plunged. From his glowering expression, she could tell she’d failed.
    But Alpha spoke. “Excellent.” The Commander nodded at her. He glanced at Corren, whose features went smooth. “She cooks well,” Alpha commented.
    “She does,” Corren said without inflection, but his hand tightened on his fork. He ate only half of what she’d put on his plate and rejected the after-meal finish. Alpha ate everything and helped himself to a second slice of sweetcake.
    She cleared the table of the dirty plates, and as she scooted behind Corren’s chair, he pushed back from the table, and his elbow bumped the pile of crockery in her arms. She grappled with the dishes, nearly dropping the lot, but managed to prevent them from crashing to the stone floor where for sure they would have broken.
    She rushed from the room, her heart thundering with fear.
    “Her clumsiness should be punished.” Corren’s displeasure filtered into the corridor.
    “Let it pass. This is new to her. She is nervous,” Alpha responded. She did not hear Corren’s reply.
    * * * *
    She’d been correct about the windowed ceiling permitting a view of the night sky. A panorama of beauty stretched above her sleeping pallet: a bedazzling array of fiery stars, bright artificial satellites traveling at a dizzying speed, and the beautiful Parseon moon. It was the palest lavender she’d ever seen, appearing as an orb. A Trey Moon. An ominous omen when rarity and beauty combined. Ancient primitives believed that when a third full moon appeared in a month, it portended troubled times.
    She’d never given credence to the lore, but it caused her to shiver now. She’d left the BCF with an optimistic outlook, but new worries had arisen like a Trey Moon. On the positive side, she tallied the physical comforts she enjoyed as a servant of Alpha’s domicile. She’d been able to eat her fill after serving dinner, she’d bathed, and her pallet, located on the floor beside Alpha’s large round sleeping platform, was cushioned and insect-free.
    But the negative overshadowed the positive: Corren didn’t dislike her. He hated her. She could tell from his glowering glances, his refusal to partake of the sweetcake, the way he had tried to cause her to break the dishes so Alpha would have reason to punish her. When he’d come to the food-prep facility to tell her where she would sleep, she read the enmity on his face. She would do well to avoid him as much as possible.
    She