“Did you get any sleep at all?”
Morgan looked up from the holo-display and offered Nazerel a halfhearted smile. “Off and on.”
“That’s where you were sitting when I drifted off last night.” He swung his long legs over the side of the bunk and stood, toned muscles rippling with each motion. He had donned a pair of snug black shorts that were generally worn beneath his uniform after he showered the night before. “Did you sleep sitting up?”
He was right. She hadn’t moved from the workstation in the past four and a half hours and she had the backache to prove it. When they’d returned from the observation deck, she made a beeline for the shower. But as soon as her body was scrubbed clean and covered by a soft nightgown, she’d demanded to see the data he’d received from Flynn.
Nazerel’s cryptic warning about government conspiracies had been a much needed distraction from more personal conflicts. She’d done her best to concentrate on the information and ignore her aching heart, but once Nazerel fell asleep her composure crumbled. She returned to the utility room and indulged in a good long cry. As if dragging her to an alien world hadn’t been devastating enough, Nazerel shattered her emotions. Maybe that hadn’t been his intent, but the result was undeniable.
She couldn’t be his “chosen mate”. She’d worked too hard to establish herself as a respected authority on all things alien. So how had an alien slipped beneath her defenses? She didn’t want to care for him, wasn’t ready to consider all the changes he would bring into her life. And yet the emotions he inspired were much too powerful to deny.
She was in love with Nazerel.
And she had no idea how it had happened.
Rather than hint at the emotional upheaval that had shaped her night, she motioned toward the display. “I’ve been through everything twice and, from what I can tell, Flynn didn’t tamper with the information.” She paused to rub her neck as she glanced at Nazerel. “Why did he agree to help us in the first place if he still felt loyalty for you?”
“Flynn is a pleaser. He doesn’t mean to be disloyal, but he craves acceptance and affirmation from whomever he’s with at the time.”
“I wonder if Elias and Lor have figured out that Flynn can’t be trusted?” She powered down the terminal and pushed back from the desk.
“They should be fine. There’s no one left to betray.” Nazerel moved behind her before she could stand and slipped his hands under her hair. His long, strong fingers massaged her knotted muscles and Morgan groaned in ecstasy. “Feel good?”
“You have no idea.” She closed her eyes and surrendered to the simple pleasure of his touch.
“You make that same sound when you—”
“Shut up.” She slapped back at him, but didn’t move away from his magical hands. “And keep rubbing.”
He chuckled and moved the massage down onto her upper back. “Most of the messages were ambiguous. Were you able to figure out the identity of Sevrin’s contacts?”
“I’m pretty sure there are three different people, though two don’t identify themselves at all. I’m almost sure the one who calls himself Ranger is my ex-boss. He was an Army Ranger and one of his brothers is a Texas Ranger. He’s always been obsessed with the title.”
“And the others?”
“Unfortunately, they could be anyone. One uses law enforcement terms, but he or she could also be military. The third sounds like a lawyer or more likely a politician. There just isn’t enough specific information to verify their identities.”
He continued to work the tension from her muscles for a moment in silence. His voice was low and cautious when he finally spoke. “Then you don’t have enough to expose their treachery?”
“Not even close.” She opened her eyes and swiveled around in the chair, dislodging one of his hands. “Even if I had something concrete, I can’t expose these bastards without exposing the secrets I’ve sworn to protect.”
Challenge arched his brow. “Why are you protecting secrets? Shouldn’t you be protecting people instead?”
“I don’t know.” She shrugged off his other hand and stood. “Maybe the people of Earth deserve to know about our many visitors. Maybe I’ve been fighting on the wrong side of this conflict all along. I honestly don’t know anymore.”
“I understand both sides of the argument.” Nazerel didn’t try to stop her as she brushed past him and started pacing the room. “It’s human nature to fear the unknown and frightened people can be dangerous. Still, that excuse is frequently used as a means of controlling the unaware. If Rodyte males can offer human females a different sort of life than they’ve known on Earth, don’t the females have the right to choose?”
“But it has to be a choice. No more hunting brides or holding mates captive. The females have to volunteer or… I don’t know what I’m saying. I’m probably going to resign as soon as you return me to Earth, so I’m not going to be in a position to make stipulations.”
“Why would you resign?”
“They’re masking their corruption with the hard work of my taskforce. I won’t be used like that. And I’ll encourage all of my people to do the same.”
“There is another option, you know.” She looked at him and he smiled, that slow, sexy smile that never failed to melt her insides. “You can work with us, help us understand how human females think and which strategies will be more effective.”
Her heart lodged in her throat and she could hardly swallow. “I have to go back, Nazerel. We both know I have to go back.”
He stalked toward her, his gaze locked with hers. “You don’t have to do anything.” He grasped her upper arms and pulled her toward him. “Stay with me. Be my morautu.”
She adamantly shook her head, but her hands found their way to his chest and then his shoulders. Hot, hard and addictive, just like the night before. She couldn’t make herself stop touching him. “This is insane.”
He pulled her into his arms then urged her back against the wall. “This is inevitable.”
His mouth sealed over hers, the kiss deep and demanding. She clutched his back and moved her feet apart, making room for his knee between her thighs. The firm muscle connected with her mound and she gasped. Then he dragged the nightgown over her head, separating their mouths only long enough to rid her of the simple garment.
She tugged his shorts down then, unwilling to stop kissing him, she let him do the rest. Soon they were rubbing against each other skin on skin, mouths fused, and breaths mingling. He stroked her breasts with one hand and cupped her ass with the other, controlling the undulation of her hips.
“Open for me.” He whispered the words against her damp lips. “Last night was hell. I don’t ever want to be without you again.”
She tore her mouth away from his and shook her head as the import of his words rocked her. “I’m not ready for that,” she cried. “I don’t know that I’ll ever be ready for that sort of commitment.”
He closed his eyes and heaved a frustrated sigh. “The link will ease your doubts. There can be no deception in that kind of communication. You don’t have to believe what I tell you because you’ll feel what I feel.”
She raised her hand and touched his cheek with her fingertips. “Can’t you form a temporary link like you did before? I agree that it makes things better, but I still need my own space.”
“I can teach you how to shield your mind from me.” He moved his hands to the wall on either side of her head. “You are my mate. I’m not sure I can take you again without bonding with you.”
“I need you to try.” She waited until he looked into her eyes to add, “I’m not ready.”
“All right. I’ll sever the link when we’re finished, even if it kills me.”
“Thank you.” Emboldened by his willingness to compromise, she grabbed his arms and spun him around, reversing their positions. “Now, I think there’s another promise you need to fulfill.”
“Is that so?” He brushed her hair back from her face and bent for a lingering kiss. “What did I promise you this time?”
She ran her hands down his sides then steadied herself against his hips as she sank to her knees. “You promised to let me enjoy you the way you’ve been enjoying me.” She had no way of knowing if he’d meant to object because she grasped his shaft with one hand and circled his broad tip with her tongue.
He groaned and leaned his head back against the wall as his eyes drifted shut. She stroked him with her hand as she teased him with her mouth. He was silky soft against her tongue and fingers, yet incredibly hard as well. Fascinated by the contrast, she sucked him deep into her mouth and explored him with her tongue.
His fingers pushed into her hair, clasping yet not restraining. He pulled his hips back, drawing nearly out of her mouth before sliding inward again. She tipped her head back and let him set the pace, thrilled that he allowed her to play at all.
Keeping her lips tight around him, she savored the warm slid of him over and against her tongue. His scent grew stronger as did his taste. She swirled her tongue over his tip, encouraging the response of his body. She wanted to know him as intimately as he’d known her. She wanted to watch him lose control and know she was the one who’d taken him there.
He moved faster, his grip on her hair growing tighter. “I need to stop.” He panted harshly, but kept right on pumping into her mouth. “Pull back or I’m going to…”
She sucked him deep and kept him there as he shuddered and groaned. The tilt of her head allowed her to watch his face contort with pleasure. He looked wild, savage, captivating. She swallowed and licked, drawing every last shiver from his body before she finally released him from her mouth.
He pulled her up and kissed her deeply, undeterred by his taste in her mouth. In fact, it seemed to arouse him, make him more demanding. “Just like my scent makes you unattractive to other males, my scent, and my taste, makes you even more attractive to me.” Then he pulled her head back and looked into her eyes. “Now open for me.”
His autocratic tone sent a shiver down her spine. If anyone else used that tone with her she’d immediately rebel, but hearing sensual commands from Nazerel did irrational things to her body. She parted her lips for the bold thrust of his tongue, yet knew that was not what he meant. She closed her eyes and waited for the surge of his energy.
Rather than thrusting inward as he had before, he eased into her mind then expanded the connection gradually. The path has already been established, so it requires less pressure.
It was so strange to have him answer a question she hadn’t actually posed. He felt her confusion or curiosity and easily identified the source.
He swept her up in his arms and carried her to the bed, but instead of lying down, he sat and arranged her astride his legs. His hands moved boldly over her body as their kisses went on and on. Pleasuring him had left her restless and achy and still he seemed determined to play. She reached down between their bodies, but he caught her wrist and chuckled low in his throat.
Not yet, morautu. It’s my turn to watch you come.
Then his fingers found her clit and the intensity made her arch, ripping her mouth away from his.
“That’s right.” He continued the rhythmic caress with his hand as he bent and caught one of her nipples with his lips.
She rocked her hips, increasing the pressure of his fingers. Her core tightened and the ache turned into a painful emptiness. “Please. I need you inside me.”
“Then come.” He caught her clit between his thumb and forefinger and carefully pulled on the sensitive knot. She cried out sharply as sensations blasted through her body.
Somehow he kept the spasms going with one hand and positioned his cock with the other. All Morgan knew was one minute her body was clenching in on itself and the next she was squeezing his considerable thickness.
Digging her nails into his shoulders, she let out a savage cry. She felt wild and dizzy. She lifted her hips then slammed them back down, wanting him deeper, wanting as much as he had to give. He grasped her hips, creating a smoother rhythm without repressing the force of her need.
She’d never felt this wild, this feral. She wanted to bite and claw, yet she needed him to hold her down and contain the frenzy. Unable to resist the instinct, she raked his back with her nails.
He gasped, shock and lust erupting in his eyes and blazing through his mind. Wrapping his arms around her, he rolled onto the bed and swept her beneath him. Then he caught both her hands and pinned them to the bunk on either side of her head.
With his gaze boring into hers, he filled her over and over. She drew up her legs and took him deeper into her body and her mind. But the fire burned hotter and the frenzy only increased. She dug her heels into the bed and bucked into each of his thrusts.
He entwined their fingers and squeezed her hands. Then his mouth was on hers again, commanding and calming her. His physical strength soothed her, made her feel secure. And the power of his being allowed her to slow the raging impulses and savor the pleasure ricocheting back and forth across their link.
It became a dance, a rhythmic blending of bodies, souls and minds. She surrendered to the intensity, and tenderness flowed out of him like a river, a silky caress that surrounded her and strengthened their bond.
Now. His hips pumped frantically his lips hovering over hers. Let me feel you come around my cock.
The graphic command left her no choice. Her body arched and her core rippled, triggering his release. They clung to each other, shuddering and groaning as the world spun away. They hung together in velvety silence for one endless moment then plummeted back to reality.
“Wow.” She shivered then laughed as tingling aftershocks sparked through her body.
“A little better than average?”
She laughed again and eased one of her hands out from under his. “Does your ego really need to hear it?” She brushed his hair back from his face. “We are amazing together. It’s not you or me. It’s us.”
He grinned, clearly thrilled by the conclusion. “I’m glad you’re finally starting to understand.”
A buzzer sounded and Nazerel looked toward the workstation. “Answer call, audio only.”
“Sorry to interrupt your training session.” No one could have missed the amusement in Zilor’s tone. “But Garin has a surprise for you.”
“What sort of surprise?”
“Report to Garin’s quarters and he’ll explain. We missed you at breakfast.”
The connection went dead before Nazerel could respond.
“What did he mean by ‘training session’?” When Nazerel only grinned she had her answer. “They think you’re ‘training’ me?”
He gave her a quick kiss then rolled away and scooted off the bunk. “Does it matter what they think? We know the truth.”
“We do?” She scrambled off the bed and raced for her discarded nightgown. “Which truth is that?”
“We’re training each other.”
He disappeared into the utility room before she could object or agree. She slipped the nightgown back on with a sigh. Did it really matter what anyone else thought as long as they were content with the arrangement? Content? Was she content with Nazerel? She wasn’t even sure she liked him. How could he possibly make her content?
But she was warm and sleepy, utterly at peace for the first time in years, maybe decades.
She closed her eyes and reached for his mind.
Yes, my love? He made the endearment sound playful.
If you promise not to enter my mind without letting me know you’re there, we’ll try this for a while.
Happiness, bright and effervescent, preceded his thought. Are you sure?
Yes. But I don’t offer my trust often or easily. No spying on me.
The door to the utility room slid open and he stood there in a freshly pressed uniform, hair still damp from his lightning-fast shower. “If I approach your mind, you’ll know I’m there and you’ll have time to shut the door if you don’t want me to enter.”
“Or I will if I knew how to shut a telepathic door.”
“I’ll teach you. As soon as I return, we’ll resume our training session.” He punctuated the promise with a wink that sent heat curling through her body.
Nazerel was halfway to Garin’s cabin when the computer rerouted him to the brig. The distinctly female voice told him of the change and a lighted indicator on the wall guided him toward the new destination. His gut knotted and his breathing hitched as he neared the detention level. What sort of surprise would Garin have stashed in the brig? Ontarians was the obvious answer, but how in the five hells would Mystics have found him this quickly? Everyone who knew of his connection to the Nox family was either dead or incarcerated.
Except for Varrik.
Dread intensified the weight in his stomach. His former best friend had already betrayed him once. Why should this possibility surprise him? His worst fears were realized a few minutes later when a guard ushered him into the open area between the containment cells. Garin stood there, hands clasped behind his back.
“Surprise.” He motioned toward Varrik with a sardonic smile. “Decide what you want done with him or I’ll shove him out the nearest airlock. I really don’t have time for this shit.”
“Yes, sir.”
Garin moved toward Echo, who was in an adjacent cell. “You’re coming with me, so your mate doesn’t feel obligated to perform.” He disabled the force field with a terse command and motioned Echo out.
“Where are you taking her?” Varrik demanded.
“Wherever I please,” Garin snapped. “This is my ship. You are the intruders.”
Varrik’s gaze screamed objections, but he wisely held his tongue. Garin had already explained why he was removing Echo and that was more consideration than Varrik deserved.
Nazerel waited until the door slid closed behind Garin and Echo before he spoke to his one-time friend. “I’m not going back to Ontariese, at least not yet.”
“Running away is a coward’s solution. You’re not a coward.”
Nazerel shook his head and fought back a smile. Varrik knew him too well. Any other accusation would have fallen on deaf ears, but no one called Nazerel a coward. He glanced at the guard standing beside the door. “Wait outside. I’ll call you if I need assistance.”
With only an acknowledging nod, the guard stepped out into the corridor and joined the guard already stationed there.
After the door closed again, Nazerel turned back to Varrik. “I’m not running away. I retreated so I could regroup and form a better strategy.”
“A better strategy for what? It’s over, Nazerel. Sevrin is dead and you must take responsibility for your actions.”
“Which actions do you find so objectionable? Leaving the City of Tears without permission or communicating with the evil Rodytes?”
“Rodyte blood flows through my veins too. You can’t pretend I’m a bigot. And you can’t pretend no one was hurt by your presence on Earth. Yes, we know Sevrin’s experiments were to blame for the actual deaths, but how did those females end up in Sevrin’s lab? And a male had to have triggered each transformation. That wasn’t something Sevrin could have done alone.”
“No one on Team South hunted while we were on Earth. Ask Flynn. Ask anyone.”
Varrik paused, clearly confused by the claim. His stance remained tense and watchful, but his gaze softened. “What are you talking about? We were told there was a rotation that ensured each team had the opportunity to hunt.”
“Team South members were excluded from the rotation.”
“Why? Who excluded them?”
“Sevrin. I wouldn’t lick her boots, or anything else she wanted licked, so she lashed out at my team. She was hoping my men would turn on me, but the injustice only made them more suspicious of her and more loyal to me.”
After a long, strained silence, Varrik asked, “Can you give me the names of each man who hunted and what happened to the female or females he caught?”
“Don’t confuse me with Flynn. Investigating this mess is your job, not mine.”
Varrik accepted the statement with a stiff nod. “You still violated your contract with the Overlord.”
“A contract I neither negotiated nor signed,” Nazerel sneered. This conversation was so overdue it was pointless. “It was never my desire to be part of the world above, but you dismantled our world so you could remain with your mate. I accept that. I don’t agree with it, but I understand the consuming need to keep one’s mate at one’s side.”
Varrik had the audacity to laugh. He ran a hand through his hair as he shook his head. “Let me guess, Morgan? Does she know she’s your mate or does she still consider herself your prisoner?”
“We’re talking about me, not Morgan.” He couldn’t let thoughts of Morgan soften his heart or overshadow his resentment. Varrik had escaped this reckoning for much too long and this setting was likely as advantageous as Nazerel was ever going to receive.
“Hate me for dismantling our world if you must, but at least be honest with yourself. Our world needed to be dismantled. The Sacred Customs were tools used by the elders to control their tribes. Our men deserve more than a life of mindless subjugation.”
“Maybe that’s all the Customs were to you, but to me they were much, much more.”
After heaving a sigh of exasperation, Varrik squared his shoulders. “We can spend the next year debating the merits of the Sacred Customs and it will change nothing. The world below is gone.”
“Thanks to you,” he gritted out between clenched teeth.
“And it should not be reborn,” Varrik stressed.
He relaxed his jaw enough to speak clearly. “I agree.”
That seemed to surprise Varrik. He took a step closer to the containment field. “I didn’t set out to kill South. Your father left me no other choice.”
Nazerel clenched his fists, needing a physical outlet for the sudden flash of anger. Varrik hadn’t “set out to kill” Nazerel’s father, but Varrik hadn’t denied being the cause of South’s death. “You accused Elder North and Elder South of betraying our people. It’s curious that North—your uncle—is still alive while you had ‘no other choice’ but to kill my father, the only person who could have disproved your accusations.”
“Why was he on the Rodyte ship if he remained loyal to our world?” Tension deepened Varrik’s voice, adding a menacing growl to his tone.
Moving closer to Varrik’s cell, Nazerel found the command to lower the containment field on the tip of his tongue. The Sacred Customs not only allowed murder to be avenged, they demanded a life for a life. But this was Garin’s ship. When Varrik breathed his last, it would have to be at Garin’s command. “My father was captured by the Rodytes just like you and Echo.”
“And yet we found him in a comfortable cabin while we had been locked up and restrained.”
Nazerel had heard it all before. He’d watched the vidfiles of the tribunal and read the transcripts, searching for any inconsistency that would exonerate his father or at least cast doubt on Varrik’s story. He’d found none. The entire performance had been a carefully constructed lie, or Varrik had been telling the truth. For the first time, Nazerel allowed himself to admit that he wasn’t sure which alternative was accurate.
“I have only your word for any of this,” Nazerel snapped.
“For most of our lives, that would have been enough.”
The reminder only irritated the raw patches in Nazerel’s soul. Their past closeness was the primary reason Varrik’s betrayal hurt so badly. “And then you met Echo.”
“Why would I lie? Why would Echo? She had nothing to gain by spreading falsehoods and everything to lose. Lying during a tribunal is a serious crime.”
“You needed the location of the Shadow Maze and you murdered my father to get it!” Varrik had no intention of changing his story. This was an exasperating waste of time.
“Scan me. Look into my mind and learn the truth.” It was part challenge, part plea.
Nazerel glared at him. “I know the true scope of your powers. You can easily manipulate memories.”
“And you’re skilled enough to sense that sort of manipulation. Go on. Let’s end this once and for all. Or aren’t you interested in the truth?” The plea faded from his demeanor until only challenge remained.
Not sure why he was prolonging this futile conversation, Nazerel said, “This better not be some sort of trick. We still have Echo.” It was an idle threat and likely Varrik knew it. Still, Nazerel felt compelled to say something.
Even with his nanites boosting his natural abilities, Nazerel wasn’t able to penetrate the containment field, so he issued the command, decreasing the strength by twenty-five percent.
Varrik flashed through the barrier and grabbed Nazerel by the throat. “Never threaten my mate. I will not tolerate—”
Nazerel punched him in the face, snapping his head sharply to the side. Then he dragged Varrik’s hand away from his throat and propelled him backward with a burst of energy. “Get back in that cell! You’re not in a position to demand anything.”
Varrik’s only response was a fast, uppercut that Nazerel barely dodged. Another energy pulse sent Varrik stumbling backward, but he recovered quickly and charged Nazerel.
This confrontation had been brewing for months and now both men were fully engaged. Their nanites augmented their strength and speed, but they’d known each other their entire lives. Their arms and legs flew so fast their bodies blurred, yet few of their blows connected. They ducked and waved, twisted and lunged in a dizzying, semi-violent dance.
Nazerel faked with his left then put the full power of his body behind his right fist. Anticipating the first punch, Varrik jerked to the right and his nose collided with Nazerel’s knuckles. Blood gushed from both nostrils, coating Varrik’s face and Nazerel’s hand in a torrent of red. With an enraged cry, Varrik kicked Nazerel’s legs out from under him then followed him down to the floor. Varrik drew back his arm, but before he could land even one punch, he was dragged off Nazerel by three guards who must have been drawn by the commotion. A forth stood a short distance away with his pulse pistol aimed at Varrik’s head.
“Don’t kill him,” Nazerel ordered. “I’ve just begun to question him.
“Why is he out of his cell?” the one with the gun wanted to know.
The rings in Varrik’s eyes erupted with blue fire. Understanding the significance of the change, Nazerel scrambled to his feet and caught Varrik’s attention. “Don’t hurt them. Your quarrel is with me.”
“I don’t have a ‘quarrel’ with anyone. You threw the first punch,” Varrik snapped, his hands tightly fisted.
“You grabbed me by the throat.”
“You threatened my mate!”
They were nose to nose again, the guards struggling to hold back Varrik.
“Do you want him back in the cell or not?” one of the guards holding Varrik asked.
Varrik could have sent them all flying with a surge of kinetic energy, but his anger was entirely focused on Nazerel.
“Not yet,” Varrik told them. “He has something he must do first.”
All four guards looked at Nazerel for guidance.
“He’s right.” Nazerel wiped his bloody knuckles on his pant leg. “Release him and return to your stations.”
“Are you sure, sir? He still seems hostile.” The guard with the gun asked again.
“We were blowing off steam, nothing more. If either of us had meant to cause real damage, you’d be loading us onto hover carts bound for the infirmary. Now go.”
“Yes, sir.” All of the guards returned to their positions in the hallway.
Varrik wiped his nose on his sleeve, creating a red smear across his face in the process. “I can escape at any time. You realize that, don’t you?”
“Only if you leave Echo behind.”
“Echo is the High Queen’s daughter. One call from Charlotte, and Echo would be released.” Nazerel started to argue, but Varrik stopped him with a muttered curse. “My point is I don’t want this to be adversarial. I agreed to hunt you because I didn’t trust anyone else to bring you back alive. I know how exasperating you can be.”
“And you are the epitome of patience.”
“Are you going to scan me or not?” Varrik pinched the bridge of his nose as one side started bleeding again. “I’m losing interest in this exercise.”
Nazerel deactivated the containment field and motioned toward the small sink inside the cell. “Clean yourself up then I’ll scan you.”
With obvious reluctance, Varrik walked back into the cell.
Nazerel used the time to calm his spirit. It was impossible to assess another’s emotions while his were out of control. Varrik washed his face, pushed a piece of tissue into the stubborn nostril and then stood in the middle of the cell, arms folded over his chest. He stared at Nazerel without expression then a tiny opening formed in his mental shields.
Already dreading what he’d find, Nazerel slipped through the opening. He’d either learn that his bitterness toward his former best friend was justified or he’d see that his father was a traitor. Neither possibility held any appeal. Still, Nazerel needed to know the truth. Varrik drew him into the past, leading him to the night in question. But once they arrived at the scene, Varrik eased back, allowing Nazerel to explore on his own.
The scene was as Varrik had described, a small yet comfortable cabin, definitely not the location one generally found a prisoner. South turned around as Echo and Varrik entered. “Are we rescued?” The question might have been believable if it weren’t for the panic in his eyes.
“To require rescuing, one has to be in danger. Are you in danger?” Echo moved slowly forward.
South held up both hands. “Don’t come near me.” South sounded genuinely terrified, but Nazerel recognized the subtle cunning in his father’s expression.
Echo took another step toward South, and Nazerel felt a powerful surge of energy. She paled, swaying as South stabbed into her mind. At this point Nazerel could still argue that South was protecting himself from their attack, but the dynamic shifted rapidly.
Varrik steadied Echo as he forced his way into the power struggle. Nazerel ignored the protectiveness and anger blasting from Varrik and sank deeper into South’s being.
He’d never seen his father like this, never sensed his mind without the filter of a son’s devotion. Rage, bitterness and desperation spun like an emotional hurricane. How could South teach others to honor and revere customs he despised? The hypocrisy stung, tearing at everything Nazerel believed to be true, yet he’d come too far to turn back now. He scanned deeper, searching for motivations, anything that would explain his father’s actions. All he felt was South’s determination to escape the life he hated and live in comfort away from the world below.
Not wanting to experience his father’s death, Nazerel severed the connection and scrambled back from the cell. It was all true. Everything Varrik had told the tribunal was confirmed by his memories. South had betrayed his tribe and forced Varrik to kill him rather than take responsibility for his cowardly choices.
Nazerel commanded the containment field back to full strength. Then, not wanting Varrik to see the torment in his eyes, he turned around. “You were right. I admit it. Are you happy now?”
“None of this makes me happy. I didn’t want to kill him. I—”
“Had no other choice. Yes, I know.” Composed enough to face him again, Nazerel shot him a sidelong glare. “The past cannot be changed. We both need to focus on the future.”
Varrik scrubbed his hand over his jaw, clearly conflicted. “If this isn’t about avoiding punishment, then why are you here? What can General Nox offer you other than a place to hide?”
“It’s not in my best interest to explain.”
Varrik searched his gaze, a sadly familiar half-smile curving his lips. “You’re still the most stubborn man I’ve even known.”
“Except for yourself, don’t you mean?”
“Damn it, Nazerel. Tell me what you’ve got planned. It might not be too late to save you.”
His vehemence seemed genuine. Still, Nazerel wasn’t impressed. “That’s part of the problem. I don’t, nor have I ever, needed rescuing. If you behave yourself for the next few days, I might let you watch my plans unfold. It should be very entertaining.”
Freshly showered and adorned in a relatively modest dress, Morgan wandered around the cabin she shared with Nazerel. The door buzzer made her jump then she heard someone trigger the door from outside. Hadn’t Zilor said the doors could only be opened by the occupant?
Before her imagination could run away with her, Garin stepped into the room but he went no farther. “I apologize for the intrusion. I wasn’t sure if Nazerel taught you the proper command to trigger the door.”
“He hasn’t gotten around to it yet, but how were you able to open it from out there?”
His grin was unexpected and charming. “It’s my ship. I can open any door.”
“Of course you can.”
He turned to the side and motioned someone forward. The newcomer was female and dressed in an ankle-length skirt, but she wasn’t Rodyte. Her gently swirling purple eyes identified her homeworld as Ontariese. She’d pulled her golden-brown hair back into a messy ponytail and her features were delicate, yet striking.
“Echo dar Aune, meet Morgan Hoyt.”
Echo crossed the room with regal grace, her right hand extended. “I feel like I know you already.”
“And why is that?” Morgan automatically shook her hand, though she was curious to know why this stranger knew her name. Wait a minute. Echo. Wasn’t that the name of Varrik’s captive princess?
“Enjoy your visit,” Garin cut in. “I’ll return for you when, and if, your mates ever come to a consensus.” Without further ado, the general left.
“You’re Nazerel’s mate?”
She couldn’t tell if the catch in Echo’s voice had been disbelief or amusement. “So he tells me. And you’re the princess who inspired Varrik to abandon the world below.”
“Guilty as charged, though there was more to it than just me.”
“Why don’t we sit down?” She motioned toward the seating area beyond the bed. “If Nazerel and Varrik are trying to agree on anything, you’re going to be here a while.”
Echo nodded and followed her across the room. “This is rather awkward, but I feel obligated to ask. Were you brought here against your will?”
“‘Will’ is a curious thing.” Morgan sat facing Echo and tried not to laugh. Echo, of all people, should understand how quickly captor could become something very different. “Nazerel didn’t ask if I wanted to make this trip, but even before we left Earth I’m not sure I was entirely unwilling. These Rodyte men can be very persuasive.”
Echo didn’t bother holding back her smile. “You don’t have to explain that to me.”
“I pride myself in my self-sufficiency. I’m a very independent woman, so it’s absurd that I might have fallen this fast and this hard.”
“And yet, you can’t stop thinking about him and any future without him would be incomplete?”
“Not just incomplete, unthinkable.” Morgan sighed. She had very few female friends, yet pouring her heart out to Echo felt natural. “Is the general watching us? Seeing if I’ll divulge my deepest secrets to a fellow captive?”
Echo snickered. “Are there any of your deepest secrets Nazerel hasn’t already learned?”
“Probably not.” She pressed back into the sofa. “How did you find us so quickly?”
“Once Varrik realized Nazerel had left Earth, he knew where Nazerel would go.”
“Which is why Lor sent him after us. Varrik knows Nazerel better than anyone.”
“Lor sent us after Nazerel. We’re supposed to rescue you. As far as everyone is concerned you’re Nazerel’s hostage. You don’t have to be part of his prosecution, but there is no benefit from you sharing the blame.”
Understanding spread through Morgan reinforcing her calm. “Who had this conversation with you when you were ‘rescued’ from Varrik?”
Echo’s smile returned and a guilty flush colored her cheeks. “My mother. Gods was that awkward. She was convinced Varrik was evil incarnate and nothing I said was going to change her mind.”
“Then spare us both the awkwardness. Nazerel is no longer my captor and I won’t testify against him. Do I need to be more specific?”
“I think being introduced as his mate told me all I needed to know.”
“I’m glad.” Echo might seem friendly and easygoing, but they were still on opposite sides of the conflict. Morgan refused to say anything that would incriminate Nazerel, so she chose the next subject carefully. “Your mother is High Queen of Ontariese, isn’t she?”
“She is.”
“Has she learned to accept Varrik?”
“I’m not sure ‘accept’ is the right word. She tolerates him because she knows how much I love him. Now my father,” she shook her head. “It’s all Papa can do to pretend to be civil to Varrik. Mostly they avoid each other.”
They could bore each other with small talk for the next few hours or Morgan could take advantage of this unexpected opportunity. Echo was Varrik’s mate. She had to know more about his past than what he’d put in the official reports. “Can I ask a really rude question? If you don’t want to answer I’ll understand.”
“I’m curious by nature.” Echo relaxed enough to scoot back in her chair and cross her legs. “I’ll have to at least hear the question now.”
“Nazerel blames you and Varrik for his father’s death. What really happened on the Rodyte ship? How did Elder South die?”
It took Echo a moment to answer and when she did her voice was soft and sad, hinting at deep regret. “Nazerel is right. We are responsible for South’s death.”
That wasn’t the answer Morgan had expected. And Echo had offered no caveat, no explanation. Had she miscalculated Echo’s basic nature? “Nazerel thinks you murdered South so you could learn the location of the Shadow Maze. Was there more to it than that?”
“Of course there was more to it. South was part of a much larger conspiracy that threatened my sister’s life. North was determined to take over the Shadow Maze and South was desperate to escape before Varrik brought the Ontarian military down on all their heads. South sold fifty hunters to the Rodytes in exchange for a secure and comfortable life on Rodymia.”
“Does Nazerel know about this?”
“He knows, but he doesn’t believe his father was capable of that sort of treachery.” Her legs uncrossed and she scooted back to the edge of her seat. “I saw a side of South I suspect he never showed his son. South reveled in cruelty. He was utterly ruthless.” She tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear and released a deep sigh. “Even so, regardless of the circumstances, Varrik ended the life of Nazerel’s father. I’m not sure any friendship could recover from that.”
“This isn’t about friendship, it’s about justice.”
Echo’s brow furrowed and she tilted her head to one side. “I’m not sure what you mean.”
“Varrik feels his actions were justified by the needs of Tribe North. Nazerel sees it very differently. He feels like Varrik’s love for you robbed Tribe South of any choice they might have had when leaving the world below.”
“If they had been given the option of coming to Rodymia, would their lives have been any different?” Echo motioned to the ship around them. “This environment is not all that different from the City of Tears. Rodyte soldiers are still expected to obey orders and adhere to very strict rules.”
“I don’t think Rodymia is Nazerel’s final destination.”
After a thoughtful pause, Echo asked, “Earth?”
Morgan just smiled. She’d probably said too much already, but Echo was incredibly engaging.
“Why Earth? What can Tribe South find on that primitive planet that they can’t find in this star system?”
“Compatible females.” The answer was so obvious, Morgan was sure Echo was playing dumb to confirm her own suspicions. “There aren’t enough women on Ontariese for the men you’ve got now. How would an ex-Shadow Assassin ever convince an Ontarian woman to mate with him? And from what little I’ve learned about Rodymia, they have a strict social structure, a sort of caste system. Nazerel keeps referring to his cousins as part of the elite, but he never refers to himself the same way.”
“Even if the Shadow Assassins would fare better on Earth, why would humans allow them to immigrate?”
Morgan smiled. That was a question she might have asked a week ago. “I don’t think they plan on asking permission. In fact, Earth might end up with a larger illegal alien problem than they ever thought possible.”
Confusion drew Echo’s brows together as she asked, “Shouldn’t you sound more upset by the possibility?”
“I feel sorry for the public and I’ll do everything I can to protect human females. But the government deserves everything they’re about to get and a whole lot more.”