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cruelty than alphas.
    “On Terra, men have wives ,” he explained.
    “What’s a wive ?”
    “ Wife ,” he corrected. “It is a female who serves as a male’s partner. Sometimes for life.”
    She clapped a hand over her mouth in disbelief. He understood her reaction. Diplomatic relations with Terra required an appearance of an open mind, but yes, the Terrans had some crazy cultural practices and traditions. They ignored innate, biological reality that not all members of a species had equal abilities.
    Androcentric, homosocial Parseon recognized that fact and developed social strata to utilize an individual’s nature for the optimal good of the race. Alphas ranked at the top, betas fulfilled support functions, and females, being of limited mental and physical capacity, served as breeders, domestic labor, and secondary sexual outlets, primarily for betas. Eugenic policies permitted only alphas to produce offspring.
    That Terran men elevated the inferior gender of their species to a position of equality was a cultural phenomenon that astounded Parseons. On many occasions, setting aside his personal belief to work with the Terrans and their aggressive, manlike females, had challenged him.
    “Are they anointed?” she asked.
    “It’s not quite the same as our ceremonies, but yes, the unions between males and females are sanctioned by their governments.”
    “So none of their males partner up?”
    “Some do,” he added. “But most don’t.”

Chapter Four
    Omra’s head swam on overload with the information Alpha had shared. She didn’t doubt his veracity. Though he’d laughed a couple of times, she sensed it stemmed from amusement at her reaction rather than trickery. Men often played games and teased females, although usually only betas did that. Alphas did not concern themselves with breeders until they required offspring.
    The Commander was an unusual man. No male, let alone an alpha, had ever conversed with her with such liberty, and she treasured his attention. The long, hard year at the BCF had been worth it now that he owned her. She had waited in Outtake, uncertain who would show up—the Commander or an interplanetary trader representative. No mirrors existed at the BCF, so she did not know what she looked like, but from his horrified, angry reaction, she surmised it wasn’t good.
    But he had proceeded with the purchase anyway. She’d held her breath as they’d ridden out of the compound, unconvinced she would be allowed to leave. She had expected someone to dash out and yell Stop! There’s been a mistake! Of course, no one’s will superseded Alpha’s, but she’d never been this lucky. Only five Alphas ruled Parseon, and to be purchased by one was a breeder’s impossible dream.
    Her throat tightened with comprehension that her life and Anika’s had diverged, and they would never see each other again. Many times Anika’s kindness had been the sole tether that had prevented Omra from descending into despair. She would mourn the loss of the friendship but intended to concentrate on the noble purpose stretching before her.
    Alpha had chosen her to produce his sons. Her heart and stomach contracted, and she pressed a hand to her abdomen. A terrifying honor. Would reproduction hurt as much as other females had said it did? She had heard horror stories that the first time a man put his manhood inside a female there , he had to rip her open, and she bled. And sometimes his seed didn’t take the first time, which required additional attempts. But mating couldn’t hurt worse than being used by a beta for his sexual pleasure. Could it?
    She peeked at Alpha. When he’d spanked her, his manhood had swelled to an immense girth and length. But perhaps fear had misled her about his size. She studied his tree trunk-like thighs, bulging biceps, rippling chest, and hands that dwarfed the heavy leather reins. Her stomach fluttered. No, his erection had been huge. She pressed her thighs together to quell an odd