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Dresk rumbled a welcome rather than a warning an instant before a boy walked into view. The child paused and looked at Conyod.

“Flist.” It was one of the boys who regularly visited the ranch for riding lessons, the child who’d recently lost his Nobek father. He lived miles away. His expression was a disturbing mix of agony and desperation. Conyod approached him. “What are you doing here so far from home?”

“Are you searching for the crashed shuttle? I know where it is.”

“What? Where?”

Flist pointed vaguely. “I’d better take you…it’s hard to reach, I think. I saw it in the distance, but I couldn’t find a path to them. I tried. I tried.” His lower lip trembled, and tears filled his eyes. “Why can’t I ever help? They’ll die too because I can’t do anything.”

Conyod went to him and knelt. He held the boy’s trembling shoulders. “You are helping, Flist. You found them, you found me, and we’re going to help those people now.”

He spoke into his com. “Hey, it’s Conyod. I have Flist here by the Pinnacle, and he said he saw the crash site. As soon as I have a specific heading, I’ll relay it to you. Standby.”

Conyod picked up the child, noting how small and light he was. “Dresk, let’s track!” he called, and the kestarsh trotted to him. Conyod swung up onto his back, setting Flist in front of him.

“Okay, my young friend. Show me where they are.”

They rode perhaps fifteen minutes over some of the most treacherous terrain Conyod had dared. Flist suddenly pointed to a ridge, beyond which Conyod knew to be a deep crevasse. “They’re down there, in the crack behind the high part. All I could see was the tail of the shuttle.”

Conyod whistled. It was a bad spot to have landed, hard for even the worthiest kestarsh to get to. No wonder Flist hadn’t been able to venture closer to the site. “If they survived, they’ll have you to thank for it. It might have been days before rescuers would have gotten to that area.” He quickly relayed the information to the search parties, which he’d been keeping apprised of his progress so they could arrive sooner.

“We’re on our way.” Sletran’s voice was welcome, as was Tuher’s confirmation his fathers were also hurrying to the crash.

“Good job, Conyod.” Vel also joined in, pride in his tone.

“All the credit goes to our young friend, Dramok Flist.” Conyod stopped transmitting and told the child, “Though I can’t say I approve of your wandering such a dangerous place. You could have been injured.”

“I wanted to do something when I heard a shuttle crashed. I felt I had to.”

“Because of your father?”

The boy began to softly cry. Conyod hugged him and let him have his grief. He wondered if Flist’s broken heart would find peace if they managed to find anyone alive in the crash.

* * * *

There were screams of joy and sobs of relief two hours later as the rescue parties returned with four of the five survivors of the accident. The fifth had been bundled in an emergency vehicle for transport to the local hospital due to the seriousness of his injuries…but the initial examination left medics certain he’d recover. The other victims had been treated for superficial wounds and released at the hastily erected medical camp at the foot of Mount Evar.

Flist’s parents were at the ranch, waiting alongside the families of the shuttle occupants. They rushed forward as Conyod eased their son to the ground. “He’s fine. He’s a hero,” the Imdiko grinned to the exclaiming trio, who hugged their son while simultaneously admonishing and praising him for finding the survivors and alerting the rescuers.

There was an impromptu celebration, as befitted the happy outcome of what could have easily been a horrific tragedy. The downed shuttle, which had lost power due to what appeared to be a faulty engine coupling, had been invisible from search vessels in the air. Flist sighting the tail section had indeed been fortuitous; he’d been in just the right place to spot it. Sheer chance of a grieving child’s wandering route had saved lives.

Sletran ignored the Nobek code of imperviousness to sweep Conyod in a hug after he dismounted Dresk. “You did it. You were brave and went up Mount Evar to the Pinnacle.”

“Took me forever, didn’t it?” The Imdiko snorted at the idea he’d acted courageously.

“What’s important is you did do it. Because you were there for that boy to find, those people will live.” Erybet added his hug and a kiss before beaming proudly at Conyod. “Don’t you dare downplay your role in this.”

“You faced Evar and you beat it.” Sletran beamed at him.

Conyod glanced at the brooding peak and considered it for several seconds. “I still hate it,” he decided. “I hope there’s no reason for me to ever go back there…but I have no fear of it. That counts for something, I suppose.”

“Losing your fear of where Hoslek died works for me,” Sletran said. “It’s haunted you long enough, and I’m glad if you can let it go.”

“I hope Flist will let his pain go too,” a deep voice mused behind them.

Conyod turned to discover Vel had come close. The small group regarded Flist and his parents. The child was actually smiling. It wasn’t a big smile, but more than Conyod had witnessed him manage on the few occasions he’d seen him.

“I worried how he’d react if the shuttle’s occupants were found dead. He carries unnecessary guilt for the loss of his Nobek father, so I kept him away while the rest of you went down the ravine.” Conyod had struggled with allowing the boy to go as close as they had, but Flist would have heard the news, good or bad, later anyway. Who would have been better than a psychologist to take care of him if another shock had been dealt?

“They made it alive, so perhaps our ghost boy will stop wandering to the ranch and on the mountain. Maybe he’ll finally put his guilt over his father’s death to rest,” Vel sighed.

Conyod, Erybet, and Sletran regarded him in surprise. “It was him haunting the stables? You knew? He’d have walked miles to reach the ranch,” Conyod spluttered.

“I discovered who it was during his last nighttime visit a few weeks ago. I took him home to his parents, who had no idea he was coming to visit Yemasel in the middle of the night when he couldn’t sleep.” Vel chuckled, but it was a sad sound. His gaze met Conyod’s. “Those kestarsh…they’ve always been the haven of grieving boys who feel they have no one else to rely on.”

“I can understand why Flist would do so, but I’d asked to sleep in the stable before Hoslek disappeared,” Conyod told him. “Grief wasn’t required for me to want to be close to them.”

“I wasn’t referring to the desire of a child to sleep somewhere novel. Remember, there was a ghost boy several years ago, before Flist was born. Except you spent as much time standing by the corral staring at Mount Evar as you did in the stable.”

“Me? I never left the house at night. You kept me from doing so because Mother would have had a fit. All of you would have.”

“If we’d known. I had my suspicions when the ranch hands started talking about a ghost boy wandering the place, so I stayed up several nights to stand guard. There was finally a night, a couple hours before dawn, when I witnessed you leave your room, shut off the home’s alarm system, and walk outside. I called your name and asked what you were doing. You looked right through me.”

“What?”

Vel uttered the sad chuckle again. “You were sleepwalking. I know you remember waking during a few of those episodes.”

“I do, when I was in my teens. There were other times?”

“Many, after we lost Hoslek. I had no clue how to cope, so I followed you. I watched you stare at the mountains. Sometimes you’d call for Hoslek to come back. It tore my heart to pieces to hear you do so. Afterward, you’d usually go to the stable, pet the kestarsh, then return to bed.”

“Those sightings went on for years.” Conyod gaped at him. “You never said a word.”

“Again, I had no idea how to cope. You were suffering. Barely eating. I worried if I told you, it would make you worse. I didn’t dare tell my clanmates what was happening, especially Lafec. They would have gone crazy.”

“You knew who it was all along.”

“I told myself if I watched over you when you wandered and kept you safe, it was okay. I was probably wrong to let you go on that way but…this family was on edge. I was desperate to keep us from falling completely apart, my son. My only surviving son. If it was a disservice to you, I’m sorry.”

Conyod stared at him. He saw Vel’s undying grief, his constant desperation to keep the sole child left to him safe from harm. He realized no amount of therapy or counseling would transform Vel’s behavior.

It’ll probably never change Mother either. Neither recognizes their actions as harmful through the filter of their loss. I can’t alter what happened…I’ll have to live with it. Just like they must live with me trying to escape their smothering fears.

He managed a smile for his father, who was caught in a mire of overwhelming love that harmed its subject as much as it tried to help. “I’m glad you told me. Thank you.”

Vel dipped a nod.

Erybet broke the stretch of awkward silence. “What happens to Flist now? Have his parents looked into counseling for him? I’ve met a guy who’s pretty damn good at that sort of thing.” He grinned at Conyod.

Their soft laughter eased the tension. Vel said, “I suggested Conyod, but the distance is far for them to travel regularly. They found someone closer. They also took me up on my offer to have Flist come to the ranch starting next week to learn to train and exercise the kestarsh under my guidance. He’s welcome to visit as often as his studies allow. I have a feeling he’ll be here every day.”

The group considered the boy, who’d entered the corral. He stood next to Yemasel, his head pressed to hers, his arms around her neck. The small smile he’d discovered remained. Conyod saw peace there.

He thought it might be the same long-sought peace filling his own heart.

* * * *

Four months later

“They’ll be deployed off-planet for weeks at a time since they’re part of the ground troops. If there’s a war against Bi’is or the Tragooms step up their incursions on the empire, they could be gone for months.”

Conyod let his mother’s complaints wash over him, his attention steadfast on the happier sounds of celebration following the formal ceremony in the grand hall of the military base. He wasn’t grouchy she carried on despite it being too late to change the fact he was Imdiko Conyod of Clan Erybet. It was all he could do to keep from laughing.

Laughing would have been far worse than arguing with Lafec.

He knew the urge came from sheer happiness, not because he found his mother ridiculous. He had the perfect clanmates in Sletran and Erybet. He’d won the lottery where good fortune was concerned. How could he ward off giddiness when his dreams had come true?

“Are you hearing what I’m saying, my son? You’ll be alone.” She said it as if it were a death sentence.

“I’m aware, and I’ve made my peace as far as the situation is concerned. Many clans are like ours. In fact, I work at the hospital alongside the Dramok clanmate of their commanding officer. Dr. Kivokan has gone through many such separations when High Commander Akrij is on deployment. Kivokan’s offered his support when Erybet and Sletran go off-planet for a tour.” Conyod nodded toward the high-ranking clan who’d honored them by attending the ceremony.

“I don’t like it. Vel will be coming to check on you.” Her mouth was set in a straight line.

“I’m sure he will.” Conyod had already resigned himself to his Nobek father’s frequent visits.

He noted Tuher coming their way, his gaze fixed on Lafec. Conyod thought of signaling he was okay dealing with his mother but decided against it. He wanted to go to his clanmates, to bask in the joy of being their Imdiko.

“My Matara,” Tuher said upon reaching them. “Erybet’s mother has been looking for you. She said she hasn’t had the opportunity to speak to you yet.”

Lafec scowled at him, no doubt realizing he was diverting her from their son. At her Dramok’s level gaze, she gave in. It helped she and Erybet’s mother got along so well. “Where is she?”

“By the refreshment table. I think she’s found a bottle or two of prime bohut and is fending off everyone else so you, she, and Sletran’s mother can enjoy it in some private corner.”

A smirk tugged at Lafec’s lips. “The woman knows her bohut. I’m glad she took charge of the reception’s beverages. I need a strong drink or seven.” Her glare skewered Conyod as she headed off. “I’ll see you much later, my Dramok.”

Tuher chuckled and whispered to his son, “She probably won’t see me or anything else until the morning after she’s slept it off. I’d better have the pain inhaler and stim tabs ready.”

“I’m sure you laid in a supply in honor of my clanning ceremony.” Conyod kept a straight face.

Tuher regarded him, amusement fading. “It’s hard for us to give up on the hope you’d come home to stay. My head says it’s good, but my heart breaks.”

“I love Erybet and Sletran, my father. I enjoy training the kestarsh, but my work as a psychologist is what fits me best. It’s what I need to do.”

“You’re where you should be. Perhaps one day, I can come to accept it. Sema might too. Vel and Lafec…” He shrugged.

“I understand.” Impulsively, Conyod hugged Tuher. “I love you all. I hope you realize it.”

His father’s grip on him was strong. “As long as we have your love, we’ll manage. I may not be the best father, but I’ll be the best I know how. You have my word on it, my son.”

* * * *

“I think it went well,” Conyod said when his clan returned to their well-furnished quarters, which had once been Erybet’s alone. “The food was perfect, we didn’t run out of liquor despite our mothers’ impressive attempts to drink it all…” he paused, grinning as he waited out Erybet’s and Sletran’s laughter. “And I wasn’t kidnapped by my parent clan.”

“They made no attempt to murder me and Sletran either,” Erybet chuckled. “The ceremony and reception were absolutely a win.”

“Clan Tuher will eventually come around,” Sletran said as he pulled off his dress boots and wiggled his toes in obvious relief. He opened his dress uniform’s top, displaying his impressive chest.

“So optimistic,” Conyod sighed, but he was pleased at how the day had turned out. “Clan Erybet is publicly recognized, and no one can do a damned thing about it.”

“Can you relax now?” Erybet rubbed his shoulders and nuzzled his cheek.

“Maybe.” Conyod smiled at him. It did feel as if a weight had rolled off…his Dramok’s massage certainly helped the notion. When Erybet’s hands slid to his waist and drew him in an embrace from behind, the Imdiko sank in the warmth and comfort of it.

Against the odds, he’d overcome his childhood trauma and claimed the perfect clanmates. Wanting to submerge himself in the knowledge, he held his arms to Sletran. Smiling, the Nobek came to him. His arms circled Conyod and Erybet.

“Thank you both,” Conyod said.

“For today?” Sletran asked.

“For all of it. You, for rescuing me when I was a kid and putting up with my infatuated neediness. Erybet, for giving the three of us a chance.”

Erybet snickered. “Once I understood what I had a chance at, you two would have been worth fighting through any obstacle. Those kestarsh, on the other hand, especially Adwal…”

Conyod laughed. “Maybe they’ll come around when my parents do. Hey, Dresk likes you. That definitely counts.”

“I’ll take it.”

They fell quiet. For a while, the trio simply stood there in the great room, holding each other. They basked in their union, which had seemed so impossible at times.

Conyod hoped his joy would last forever. How could it not, with Sletran and Erybet as his lifemates?

It got better as his lovers began to explore his body, as sentiment heated to sensuality. Conyod returned the favor, twisting one way, then the other to experience them both. He reveled in his beautiful and commanding Dramok, in his strong and protective Nobek.

The dress uniforms and his nice outfit of a deep green shirt and black trousers fell from them to scatter like leaves on the ground once his shiny black shoes and Erybet’s boots thumped free. Their mingled arousal scents rose to enhance the atmosphere of eroticism as excitement grew. Mouths were hot on bared flesh, and moans woke the air.

“Sleeping room,” Erybet finally mumbled against Conyod’s lips.

They reeled and stumbled and laughed at their reluctance to cease fondling long enough to walk the few feet to the doorway. They didn’t so much lie down as fall on the bed, where they twined as if to knot themselves together so they might never be torn apart.

At length, Sletran and Conyod teamed up to pin Erybet. Knowing his supremacy versus either of his controlling clanmates was short-lived, Conyod took every advantage he could of the moment. He drowned himself in the beautiful man he could scarcely believe was his forever, licking and kissing the struggling Dramok wherever he could reach. His lips traveled his lover’s throat and paused at the hollow where his pulse beat strong and steady. His tongue traced Erybet’s pebbled nipples, rendering their points stiff. Letting Sletran take hold of Erybet’s wrists, Conyod wandered downward, convincing his clan leader not to fight being on the bottom so strenuously by sucking throbbing, burning flesh. He fed on the sweet-spicy wetness that rewarded his efforts, then swallowed until Erybet groaned.

Ever devious, the Dramok lay lax under Conyod’s ministrations. Sletran grew careless. Erybet abruptly heaved loose of both men. Concentrating his attack on the surprised Nobek, he quickly gained the upper hand. Conyod, happy to have the opportunity to enjoy his warrior clanmate, switched to fight on Erybet’s side. Sletran growled halfheartedly, already enthralled by the benefits of Conyod’s eager mouth and tongue. The Nobek succumbed more readily as Erybet kissed him.

The Imdiko had tricks of his own. Erybet stretched over Sletran, pinning his wrists on either side of his head. The position placed his erect shafts next to the Nobek’s, allowing Conyod to switch between the two men as whim dictated. Erybet had no choice but to let his youngest clanmate play and tease if he were to keep Sletran under control.

Tease, he did. Conyod had grown familiar with how much pressure to use, how fast to go at them to bring them to the brink; then how to ease off to thwart passion’s victory before it was too late. He soon had them writhing, groaning, and growling.

He was merciless as his own desire fed on theirs. He tasted Erybet’s sweetish-salty pre-cum and compared it to Sletran’s slightly spicier offerings. He sucked eagerly on their jerking forest of cocks, moving among the four shafts served to him like an endless buffet. He felt how their pulses beat on his tongue from the thick veins on their lengths. His fists curled around two at a time, pumping them so their hips jerked and they cried out. They jolted in excitement when he carefully threatened by nipping, just enough to give them thrills of dangerous play…though their trust was plain when they failed to battle to escape.

Mine. Forever.He bit Sletran’s inner thigh harder to leave a pink oval, marking him. Still trapped by Erybet’s commanding hold, the Nobek snarled, his features bestial from animal delight.

Conyod courted trouble when it came to a control-happy Dramok, but he couldn’t resist the urge to do the same to Erybet. His domineering clanmate hissed and told Sletran, “His turn.”

“Agreed.”

Conyod didn’t try to avoid being overcome. He’d had his fun tormenting the pair, and the time had come to do what an Imdiko did so well: take care of his clanmates by giving them what served them best. The fact having his ass spanked by Erybet while Sletran held him prisoner was what was required made no difference. The warmth of the punishment for daring to mark his Dramok only enhanced his arousal. His cocks, swollen despite having been touched little, grew more engorged as he was taken to task. He felt more the joy of being the center of their attention than the painful swats from Erybet’s heavy palm.

Discipline took a turn for the erotic. Sletran, whose weight on his back held him curled facedown on the mat with his ass in the air for Erybet’s attentions, grabbed his primary and stroked. Conyod shouted as desire amplified, turning the smarting pain of the spanking to exquisite bliss. The calloused hand worked him mercilessly, and he was abruptly in danger of shattering.

The timbre of his moans warned Sletran when exactly to let up. He gripped the base of Conyod’s primary, denying the eager slide of cum seeking to erupt. Conyod wriggled desperately, his body begging for the lightning strike of ecstasy he knew he couldn’t have yet.

“This dancing ass wants to be fucked,” Erybet grunted. “Keep him where he is, my Nobek.”

“On the edge of coming? No problem.” Sletran’s chuckle was evil.

Erybet ceased spanking. His legs shoved between Conyod’s. The Imdiko had only an instant to yield to invasion before his clanmate shoved in deep. The slick hardness running up the crack of his ass as he was filled told him Erybet fucked him with his smaller secondary.

It isn’t that damn small.He groaned at the burning strain of taking the thick girth. Then he yelped as it rubbed against his cumspot, sending a surge of rapture straight to his cocks. Sletran’s grip kept roiling passion from escaping.

“Naughty…naughty…naughty…Imdiko,” Erybet gasped, each word punctuated by a thrust.

Conyod gathered the threads of his senses and defiantly bellowed, “I regret nothing!”

Surprised laughter exploded from his lovers. The added weight on his back told him Erybet had collapsed on top of Sletran as he laughed.

Blanketed by the pair, Conyod was shaken by their continued amusement. He grinned, unseen by his chortling clanmates. Who said sex had to be serious? Better yet, it gave him a moment of breathing room from the overwhelming craving he couldn’t release.

“You lunatic,” Sletran panted as he recovered. “What are we going to do with him, Erybet?”

“Fuck him senseless and keep him happy?” The pressure on Conyod lessened and the thick shaft in him shifted as the breathless-sounding Dramok rose.

“Best therapy in the world,” Conyod confirmed, setting off added chuckles.

“Never let it be said I don’t follow doctor’s orders.”

Erybet’s hips rocked, feeding Conyod’s ass his excitement. Sletran resumed masturbating him, and amusement fled before a tide of electrifying sensations, especially when Erybet found the perfect angle to apply friction to his cumspot. They kept at him until his soft cries warned them. Sletran clenched the base of his primary, and Erybet slid loose. He spanked Conyod once more, demanding the young man control his lust.

Then he was in him again. His larger shaft filled Conyod. There was no escaping the exquisite friction of the greater girth rubbing where craving lived. The Imdiko beat his fists on the mat as his Dramok rode him hard and Sletran continued to block him from orgasm.

“Going to fill…this tight hole…with my cum,” Erybet gasped. “My Imdiko…my Conyod…always…”

A groan exploded from the Dramok as Conyod wailed rapturous frustration at his inability to join him in passionate release. His primary throbbed in time to the rod pulsing in his ass, but his Nobek’s grip kept him from realizing climax.

“Fuck. I love you so much, you beautiful man. Both of you,” Erybet sighed a minute later. His fingers combed through Conyod’s long spill of wavy hair, then traced the line of his spine to where he was embedded in his clanmate.

Despite his erotic suffering, Conyod’s entire being warmed at the words and the feeling with which they were spoken. He was just as happy Sletran had been included.

“If you love me, then get out of the way before I explode,” Sletran teased in a voice gruff from unhidden emotion.

Erybet chuckled. There was the sweet sound of the pair sharing a kiss, then the Dramok pulled free of Conyod.

It was the clan leader’s turn to grip the base of Conyod’s larger cock to keep his youthful lust under control as Sletran took his place between his thighs. The Nobek’s grasp moved to his neck, pinning him as Erybet squirmed beneath their trapped clanmate. Conyod felt the rough wetness of Erybet’s warm tongue lap the tip of his aching shaft and moaned.

“There we go,” Sletran sighed as he eased in. His groin bumped Conyod’s ass. “That’s just what I need.”

What about what I need?Conyod was incapable of speech as Erybet’s mouth enclosed him in the most delicious of kisses. A small voice beyond the clamor of desperate hunger purred its satisfaction that he was getting what was important: the ability to serve the pleasure of his lovers, to give them all he was capable of.

Sletran started slow, breathing soft whispers of his appreciation for the incredible sensation of fucking his Imdiko. Though the Nobek code forbade him from speaking what he was expected to demonstrate, the statement I love you was in every syllable he uttered. Conyod basked in boundless joy despite the delicious torment of Erybet sucking his trapped primary.

Little by little, Sletran’s gentleness abated as carnal demand took hold. His flesh slapped Conyod’s spanked ass loudly, delivering renewed intensity rather than pain. The constant friction on the Imdiko’s internal hotspot, along with Erybet’s tireless lips, tongue, and insistent swallowing, was gorgeous torment. Conyod strained against his beloved torturers and begged for mercy.

Only when Sletran’s steady pace faltered, when his hand on Conyod’s neck tightened, when he ground out, “Yes, my Imdiko! Yes!” did Erybet release the practiced grasp keeping exhilaration at bay. He drew Conyod down his clutching throat. Then all was thunder and lightning, an explosion of brilliance in which Conyod was lost.

His existence was a throbbing ecstasy that clawed every mote of strength from him in shattering bursts. Conyod dissolved in the maelstrom, the sense of himself vanishing in the vast cosmos where only pleasure dwelled.

Then, rapture ebbed. Conyod didn’t try to hold onto it because it was replaced by a deeper, better joy: the feeling of his clanmates surrounding him. Their whispers and caresses reassembled what had been shattered, making him whole.

He was whole he realized as he smiled at the two men who’d come to mean everything to him. Scarred by his past, but complete. Love had broken him when he’d lost his brother and, in a sense, the parents he’d known. Now love had put the fragments together again. He was Imdiko Conyod of Clan Erybet, in one imperfect but entire piece, thanks to his Nobek and Dramok.

“Thank you,” he whispered? knowing mere words would never express the depth of his gratitude.

“Always,” they chorused, their gazes telling him they understood he spoke of matters beyond mere sexual gratification.

Conyod closed his eyes and basked in the moment. He knew life offered no guarantees, but he dared to hope his happiness could last forever.

The End