Ettore skulked, as usual, through the quiet halls of the ship. Since the beginning of Dibs’ breeding program, the men had been picking up more work.

Ettore had finally finished scrubbing the floors of the dorm hallway and now he headed into the garden, keeping up his habit of checking on you every thirty minutes. Not because he loved you, he didn’t understand love. But he understood possession.

He turned the corner, and there you were. With Monte. Rage filled him and he looked ready to kill.