Текст книги "Alien On Fire"

Автор книги: January Bell

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CHAPTER EIGHT

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LEIGH

I don’t know that we’re going to survive this little arrangement. Not because of the Roth Overlord, but because I think we might kill each other before we even get to that step.

I slam a tray down, slopping the oatmeal-like breakfast into the bowl and sprinkling some of the strange alien condiments into it. I don’t know what they are, but they’re out, so they must be meant for the breakfast.

“Good morning,” Nydo’s brother, Lyko, greets me. He makes his own breakfast, following in my footsteps.

I grunt at him. My hair is all over the place because I practically ran from Nydo’s room. I don’t even want to know what they think. I don’t want to know if I smell like Nydo and I have been fucking; the important thing is that his scent will help protect me on the space station, and as much as I loathe the jerk, at least I won’t be abducted again.

Hopefully.

Piper and Billie sit at the only table in the small mess hall on the ship, and I flop into a chair next to them as they stare at me.

“Are you okay?” Billie asks.

“You look…” Piper’s nose scrunches up. “You look like you need your hair combed.”

“Yeah, well, you two look nice and fresh as daisies,” I say, my voice higher than usual. At this rate, I’m going to need blood pressure meds. I shovel a spoonful of the glop in my mouth, chewing and swallowing automatically. “I guess your Roth brothers didn’t make you spoon with them to get their scent on you last night? Or you didn’t mind?”

I laugh, and it’s unnatural-sounding.

Piper and Billie share a glance, and my hand tightens on the spatula-like utensil in my hand, my knuckles white.

“You… didn’t… cuddle with them, did you?” It’s not a question, not really, because it’s clear from their expressions that this is news to them.

“Billie and I shared a room,” Piper says slowly. “We waited for you to come in too, but…”

“Good morning, all,” Nydo says, breezing through the door to the mess. He shoots me a sparkling look, and I imagine wringing his stupid grey neck with my bare hands. Or shoving the spatula into his eyeball.

Neither option makes me feel better.

“Why didn’t they have to sleep with your brothers?” I explode, half-standing.

“You slept with him?” Piper exhales noisily.

“Holy shit,” Billie adds. “Must have been shitty if she’s still so pissy.”

Nydo and I both glare at her.

“I slept with him. I didn’t sleep with him,” I manage. The spatula-thing is still in my hand, and I point it at Nydo, who only smiles at me, his handsome face unbearable.

“That clears it up,” Billie mutters.

“Why did you… sleep with him?” Piper asks, wearing her usual peaceful expression, somehow oblivious to the murderous urges running through my veins.

“Because the turd told me I needed to smell like him to be safe on the space station.”

“And you do,” Nydo says calmly, clearly amused by the entire debacle.

My teeth grind together. I point to Billie and Piper. Piper puts her hands up in the air reflexively. “So why don’t they need to smell like… your brothers?”

“We’re not going on the station,” Billie tells me slowly. “It’s not safe. You shouldn’t either.”

I turn to Nydo.

“She has to go. She needs to be outfitted for our travels. She has to look the part, to sell the fact we are mates.”

“It’s not a fact,” I interrupt him. “It’s a lie.”

“Exactly. Which is why everything must look exactly right.” He nods at his own words, arrogant and handsome, even as he doles out his own portion of morning mush. “You humans have a saying, appearances are deceiving. Correct?”

“Oh, good for you, knowing that one,” Piper tells him delightedly.

Billie rolls her eyes.

Nydo dips his body in a perfunctory bow, raising one rakish eyebrow at me. “Our appearances, likewise, must be deceiving. You will look every inch a queen. Lucky for me, you’re already mostly there. Any Roth King would be lucky to have such a beauty by his side.” His eyes travel over my face, down my body.

My face heats, and I sink back into my chair, too aware of his steady gaze.

Piper lets out a dreamy little sigh. “You are really striking, Leigh. What does she have to wear? This kind of sounds fun. Do we get pretty outfits too?”

“Do you want them?” Lyko asks, his tone too interested to be purely casual. I turn my death stare on him, and the oatmeal-mush falters slightly on its trip to his mouth. “I have some credits to spend,” he bravely adds.

“Oh, no, you don’t have to do that,” Piper says. “I was just curious what our role was in all…” She waves an elegant hand around. “This scheme you have. Nydo is king, and that makes you and your brother, what, princes? Next in line? And you asked for us, so…”

“You can’t make them pretend to be mates too,” I object.

“I don’t know, it sounds fun,” Billie says through a mouthful of breakfast mush. “I like the idea of getting dressed up and fucking over the Roth Overlord. I can think of a lot worse things than being a princess. Like, oh, I don’t know, being abducted by the Roth and shot up full of breeding hormones,” she finishes sweetly, batting her eyelashes at the third Roth brother, Ayro, who fully stops and stares at her.

“I am not sure what I have walked into,” he says slowly. “But I would not presume anything about your breeding hormones."

“Intelligent life from another planet,” I say acidly. “Who would’ve thought?”

To my surprise, the only one who laughs is Nydo. It’s a warm, booming sound, and I staunchly ignore how it spikes my own libido.

Lyko’s smile is genuine as he glances between Nydo and I. “I will accompany you two today, for security.”

“No,” Nydo disagrees. “You will stay on the ship with the other females and guard them. We cannot be too careful when it comes to the possibility of sabotage.”

Surprise clouds Lyko’s face at the reaction, but he merely nods, as though his older brother often calls the shots.

“You’ll give me a weapon,” I demand. “If it’s not safe, then I want a chance at being able to defend myself.”

“Done,” Nydo says easily. Too easily.

Billie frowns, and worry races across Piper’s face.

I narrow my eyes at him. “I want a plas rifle. I am a sniper.”

“You can have whatever weapon you desire,” he says, and when he arches his eyebrow at me, his gaze dipping to my mouth, I’m not thinking about a damn plas rifle at all, but about the way he felt in my hand when I threatened to twist his nuts off this morning.

I can’t get these damn hormones out of my system fast enough.

“I will stay with you two beautiful females and the ship,” Ayro announces, thankfully breaking the tension between Nydo and I. “But if you also want to be dressed in the Roth style, Billie, I would be honored to send some credits with Leigh and Nydo. It would please me greatly to see you dressed as a princess, if you decide you also want to… pretend to mate me.”

Billie beams at him. “I wouldn’t mind pretending, if it helps ruin the Overlord’s plan.” She flutters her eyelashes slightly, and I gape at her.

Is she flirting with him?

I pinch the bridge of my nose.

“Having three royal males mated with human females can only help our cause,” Lyko muses. “It will certainly divert attention."

“I’ll comm you our measurements,” Billie says, and there’s a trace of excitement in her voice.

I cradle my face in my hands. “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me. They’re gonna dress us up like little Roth Barbies.”

“Does that make them Ken? I seem to remember doing some fun things with Ken,” Piper says innocently, but there’s a coy smile on her mouth, and Billie bursts into laughter. The three Roth stare, Lyko openly admiring her.

I groan. It’s gonna be a long trip back to Earth.

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CHAPTER NINE

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NYDO

The space station is like every other space station in the universe.

Absolutely disgusting. The smell of too many species cramped together, their scents recycled over and over again into a stale miasma that turns my stomach. I turn my chin slightly, inhaling the sweet scent of Leigh.

She wears a thick cloak of mine over the remains of her Federation uniform, her stunning hair hidden away under the deep hood. It’s much too long for her, so she and Billie knotted up the ends, and her small, boot-clad feet peek out of the bottom as she picks her way through the filthy metal corridor.

I can just make out the otherworldly green of her breathtaking eyes, and they’re wide as she soaks in the space station.

I blink in surprise at her interested reaction, like all of this is new to her. I forget, too often, that the humans are so new to space travel, so new to the things I have long taken for granted. Things like these foul space stations.

To my gratification, she shuffles closer to me as large Drazox pass. They reek of smoke and meat, the way their species always does. They’re dangerous ruffians, good in a brawl and incredibly dangerous in an open planet battle.

I frown. They’re usually not on space stations. The Drazox keep to themselves, as most alien species do, but they are very particular about small, enclosed spaces, which is all these gods-forsaken stations are.

I don’t like that they’re here.

Still, they spare but a quick glance at Leigh, and I tuck her under my arm, possessiveness flaring as surely as my fire threatens under my skin.

“What are those?” she breathes, her voice feminine and entirely distracting.

“Drazox,” I say, marveling once again at how little humans know of the universe around them.

Guilt slams into me, more disgusting than any station odor, as I remember how humans were yanked into space travel: by the Roth Overlord’s invasion of their planet, in search of a cure for the virus which effectively terminated all alien female life in the near universe.

Except humans.

We cross the threshold of the hangar corridor and enter the main hub of the station. Unlike the barren streets of Edrobaz back on Sueva, the station teems with people.

Leigh goes stock still beside me, and when I glance over at her, worried, what I see isn’t fear on her face, but awe.

The blues and greens of the lit-up signs illuminate her pale, delicate features, coloring her red hair as she soaks in the advertisements for dangerous cybernetics and female sex workers. Slaves, most likely, and a growl rises in my throat at the thought.

The Roth Overlord has kept himself afloat financially for decades due to his stake in the universal slave trade, and my hackles immediately rise at the memory of my mother begging the troops that came to our house…

“What is that?” Leigh asks, interrupting my black thoughts. She crooks her tiny finger at a row of stalls, where vendors hawk their wares to weary travelers, all trudging through the space station. Just as I thought, she’s one of a tragically small number of females on the station.

“Food.”

“Food?” she says, and her nostrils flare, as though she’s trying to smell it and cannot.

It is easy to forget how weak the humans are, especially since Leigh’s bravado is that of the fiercest Roth warrior. Still, the small female can’t even work out the smells a mere hundred yards away.

I shake my head.

“Are you hungry?”

“Is it good?” she counters, still not looking at me. She hasn’t, not since this morning in the mess hall, before we docked at Hernus-12. When all I could do was imagine her in the outfits of my home world, bedecking her in the finest clothes credits can buy.

And then ripping them from her nubile body, piece by piece, as her soft hands gripped me and she moaned my name.

My cock grows hard at the fantasy.

“Well?” Leigh pokes me in the side. “Are you going to answer me?”

“I don’t know what human taste buds enjoy,” I admit. “Some are very, very sweet, and some are incredibly spicy. The Drazox we just passed enjoy the spice, but I am not sure what the human palate enjoys. If you like,” I offer hesitantly, not wanting to overstep. Wanting to please her, despite her apparent and deserved disdain of me. “We can try a few different things.”

“Do we have time? Is it safe?”

My heart lurches at her honest, candid expression. She may not think it, but she does trust me.

Why else would she bother asking me if it were safe?

“Leigh,” I say, my voice low and too rough for the beautiful flower of femininity next to me. “I would kill to keep you safe.”

“Er,” she says, her long, pale lashes fluttering. “I am not sure that means it’s safe.”

“You are safe with me. Besides, the longer we spend here, the longer we are seen together, the better to spread the word of our mating.” A quick glance around tells me word of our arrival has already spread.

Good. All the better for rumors to get back to the Overlord, to Roth itself.

Everything will go according to plan, and it doesn’t matter whether or not she knows the plan. As long as it all looks… real.

A pack of heavily furred Elkund brushes by too closely, and I growl a warning, causing the leader to cast me a speculative glance.

I tuck Leigh closer to my body, my hand possessive on her hip.

I lead her towards the rows of carts. She trails slightly behind me, lagging as she soaks in the many different trinkets and technologies and foods. A lump forms in my throat. It is strange, watching her take it in for the first time.

The surprise and delight on her face makes me feel like I’m experiencing it all for the first time again, too. I buy her several different treats, and she stays close to my side, silent and wary as I haggle with the various vendors.

The first is a stick of roasted gadkri, popular with the Drazox. She takes a careful sniff, and I stifle a laugh at the adorable expression on her face. After one bite, she spits it out, and sweat beads along her forehead.

“Too spicy,” she gasps. “That should be illegal.”

“It is, on some planets,” I tell her, infinitely amused, handing her a cup of chelda to wash the taste out.

“You must really hate me, to give me that one first.” She scrubs at her tongue with the now empty cup, and I grow hard at the sight of her wet, pink mouth.

“I don’t hate you,” I tell her fervently. “Not at all.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I see a group of Roth, dressed in battle gear, but mismatched. Not the Overlord’s troops then, but mercenaries. One points at me, and I narrow my eyes at him, baring my teeth in warning.

Not yet. Not until after we have completed the necessary shopping.

I tug Leigh closer to me. “My mate,” I tell her in a soft voice. “I could never hate you. You might drive me mad with your strange ways, but that is because I am entirely, utterly obsessed with you. From your flame-red hair down to your tiny toes, I want to memorize every inch of your body and wring pleasure from you without cease every night.”

“Laying it on a little thick, aren’t you?” she grumbles.

I grin at her though. Despite her protests and prickly demeanor, her arousal scent clouds around her, thick and heady.

“Try this.” I hand her a small wooden boat with a gelatinous puddle in it, guiding her down the corridor that will take us to the tailor that specializes in Roth clothing and armor.

And away from the mercenaries.

She takes it from me, sniffing it, as if her paltry senses will be able to suss out anything about the delicacy.

“What is it?”

“Kuchdi. It’s sweet.” I don’t tell her anything else about it. I fear that anything else I tell her will sour her against it.

I hand her the utensil used for eating. She dips it into the treat, depositing the tiniest amount on the tip of her tongue. I glance between her face and the hallway, narrowly avoiding collision, rapt as I am in her expression.

“This is… this tastes like birthday cake,” she finally says, then spoons a huge amount into her mouth, beaming.

“It is a Roth dessert,” I tell her, so pleased that my entire chest seems to swell. “My favorite.”

“Oh.” Irritation and surprise flit across her expressive face. “It’s Roth?”

I frown. “Is it so hard to believe that my species made something you enjoy? I can think of many things that you would enjoy…”

A furious red creeps back into her cheeks, and she dumps the boat into a nearby trash receptacle, defiant as ever.

We arrive at the tailor too soon. I could watch her sample food all day, I think. My hand slips to the small of her back, and I propel her in front of me. True to her word, she plays the part of my mate, letting me touch her.

I wish she would always let me touch her.

The tailor glances up from the long, low table at the back of the store, fabric spread all over. A twang of longing that has nothing to do with the delectable female beside me winds my body tight.

I inhale deeply, closing my eyes.

Home. This place smells like home.

“Welcome, old friend,” the Roth tailor says, inclining his head in respect. “News of your arrival has already spread through the station.” He turns his gaze on Leigh, curiosity lighting his dark eyes. “It must have been hard to try to keep the news of your mate’s escape from Nyria V49 secret.”

I bite back a groan.

Like many of our species, this Roth deals in gossip and information as much as he does fabric and energy-rimmed armor. He’s fishing, but he clearly knows enough to know who and what Leigh is to me.

I don’t know why that bothers me so much, considering I have her with me for precisely that reason: to spread the news of our mating. To garner support among my people, to show them that there is a path to renewal of our species that does not involve war and the Overlord.

He makes it sound cheap, though. He makes Leigh sound… undesirable, and it makes me angry.

Leigh slips the hood off her head, her chin held high.

Fresh desire surges through me.

“You’re right,” she tells him easily, her green eyes burning with fury. “I’m his mate, and as such, I am the queen. Is this any way to treat royalty in your store? Nydo, I don’t think I want clothes from here after all.”

My mouth opens. She shoots me a perceptive look, and I snap it shut.

“Apologies,” the tailor says, dropping his head, then beating his shoulder twice in the traditional gesture of respect. “I meant no harm.”

“What you meant doesn’t matter. It’s what you said that does.” Leigh doesn’t move an inch, staring at him with unflinching green eyes, hard as ice straight from the caves of Northern Roth. “Nydo and I will not tolerate disrespect.”

I clear my throat, squeezing the curve of her hip. “If you do not wish to clothe my queen, we will find another.”

I truly hope Leigh doesn’t follow through with her posturing, because he’s the best on the station.

“I do. Please, my queen, I have a rack of traditional garments already arranged for you.”

“Lock the doors,” Leigh says imperiously, and the tailor scurries to do her bidding, as my little redhead marches towards the clothes, peeling one off the rack. “I assume this is where I try on?”

I sweep in front of her, opening the door and checking inside for any possible threats.

Leigh follows me in, then collapses against the corner, where the tailor can’t see her. She’s shaking, and a fine sweat beads her brow. My eyebrows raise, the bitter tang of her fear coating my tongue.

“You are safe,” I tell her. Impulsively, I squeeze her arm through my cloak. “You did well,” I add in a low tone.

She nods once, gathering herself, holding up the black fabric and examining it.

“My mate, let me know what pleases you,” I say, louder this time.

“I’ll try it on by myself.” She scowls at me, back to herself, obviously.

I cough, my power boiling under my skin. I want to see her flesh again, see her body. But I will do as she asks. I would do nearly anything she asked.

Especially after she so thoroughly put the tailor in his place.

I can’t quite keep the smile off my lips as I close the door behind her.

“As you wish, my mate,” I tell her cheerily, laughing at her blatant sound of disgust at the heated way I say the word.

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CHAPTER TEN

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LEIGH

The Roth like clothes even less than the Suevans, I’ve decided. Their weird-ass birthday cake slime dessert was good, but the clothes?

I pick at the flimsy, sheer black fabric, shocked into silence.

They’re not going to dress us up like Barbies. At least, not like any Barbies I ever played with. Long gone are my boxy Federation clothes. In fact, I’m pretty sure Nydo made sure the tailor on the space station incinerated them when I wasn’t paying attention.

It’s hard to pay attention to anything but the amount of skin I’m showing off in this damned outfit.

“Does it fit? Does he need to fix anything?” Nydo asks, outside the small room I’ve changed into the first gown in.

And I use the term gown very, very, loosely.

No, this isn’t Barbie’s anniversary or holiday outfit; this dress is what Barbie would wear if she crashed a lingerie-themed sorority party and lost half her outfit in the trashcan punch.

Teensy black straps hold up the side of the skirt, completely exposing my left hip, while sheer black fabric tumbles on the diagonal, barely covering all my lady bits. Eve wore more in the Garden of Eden.

As for the top?

Ha. My boobs are just hanging out, the black fabric doing nothing other than accentuating them, a thin wire propping them up. I mean, it’s pretty and sexy but there’s no way in hell I’m wearing this around anyone.

My face flames at the mere thought.

I thought the Suevan clothes were bad. At least they covered people. Good grief. I turn, examining myself in the mirror. The whole thing is backless, and my left ass cheek is nearly hanging out.

Maybe Roth women didn’t have curves. This is… obscene.

“Am I missing a piece?”

“Let me see it,” Nydo says.

“Absolutely not—”

The door opens anyway. Nydo stares at me, his gaze traveling over my nearly nude body. I stare at him.

“I didn’t say you could come in,” I manage in a harsh whisper. “Mate.” I say it like a swear word.

He swallows hard, his gaze hot as it treks back up my body. Goosebumps prick all over my skin, and I make myself stand up straight, refusing to be cowed or made fun of.

But when his eyes meet mine, they’re pure orange, and there’s nothing funny at all about it. I turn warm all over.

“I refuse to wear this,” I say haughtily, doing my best to sound like a queen. I kind of just sound like a mega bitch, but whatever. I’ve already put on my best mega bitch act for the Roth who owns the store, so I might as well keep pretending.

“I agree,” he says. “You will not wear this.”

I sag in relief, and my arms uncross over my chest.

“We are buying it,” he says.

“What?!”

“You will wear this only for me.”

I blink at him, stunned. “No way,” I whisper in a harsh voice. “I’m not.”

He thrusts another smokey grey and black garment into my arms, and I immediately cling to it, trying to cover up. The tips of his hair spark, and he looks… powerful.

Suddenly, I’m wet between my legs, turned on beyond all belief at the way he’s staring at me, at the little game we’re pretending at.

Maybe I should pretend a little harder.

Maybe I should make him off-balance, instead of always being the one pushed. I am sick to death of being pushed around.

I drop the new dress, and it puddles atop my bare feet.

“Is that right?” I say, tossing my hair over one shoulder. “You want me to wear this for you and only you, my king? My mate?”

His hair catches fire, and his eyes smolder. The markings under his skin swirl harder along his biceps, and I revel in the effect I have on him.

And I wonder at it.

I’m not… I’m not scared.

No. I feel powerful.

I take a step forward, skimming my fingertips down my sides, down my stomach.

“Yes,” he growls.

I take another step forward, drunk on this newfound power over him. Drunk on the lust raging through me, but finally, finally fucking using it. They might have messed me up, messed with my body, but goddammit, I’m going to use it all.

“Do you smell how I feel right now?”

He bangs a fist into the door frame, making the entire stall rattle, his knuckles turning white. “Yes,” his throat bobs.

I do my best to look down my nose at him, despite our nearly foot-and-a-half height difference.

“Then you should know,” I whisper, tracing one finger down his jawline, “you should remember, that it’s because your species messed up my hormones. And it has nothing to do with you. My body is mine, and who gets to see it is up to me.”

With that, I shove him out of the stall, slamming the door behind him. Frustration and loss flash across his face, and then I see nothing except the door where he stood.

My chest heaves, and I rip the top off, then the skirt. I’m on the verge of tears, and I’m not really sure why.

Shouldn’t I feel good after telling him off? After hurting him?

Isn’t that what I wanted?

I try on gown after gown, Nydo barely meeting my eyes, only nodding his head once as I add to the pile of things he’ll purchase for me, his pretend mate, and I think maybe this isn’t what I wanted, not at all.

When I slip the tiny black outfit into the bottom of the pile of clothes to purchase, I’m not really sure why, other than I need to remember how I feel in this moment, and buying the evidence seems like the best way to make sure I do.

I have a sinking suspicion I’m going to need all the reminders I can get of who Nydo is —about who the Roth are: deceptive, murderous, and dangerous.

I'm tired and grumpy, well, grumpier than usual, by the time we emerge from the shop. Nydo’s paid extra to have some of the tailor’s help courier the bags full of our purchases to the ship. There are things for Billie and Piper, too, mostly in black and shades of dark grey, which are apparently all the Roth wear. Boring, if you ask me.

Not that anyone has.

I smooth my hand over the new dress. My hair’s still done up in a regulation bun, coiled tight on top of my head… but the rest of me is bedecked in an outfit the likes of which I’ve never seen before. This one is hands down my favorite, and even though I’m still slightly sick over what I’ve agreed to do with Nydo, I can’t deny it’s gorgeous.

I stare at the crystal-flecked midnight-black dress, studded like stars in the velvet expanse of space, where it peeks out from under my new velvety cloak. The gorgeous, sumptuous fabric of the cloak is grey, and it isn’t until I’m standing next to Nydo that I realize what it reminds me of.

I shudder.

“What?” he asks, clearly still miffed by my bitchiness.

A pang of guilt rings through me. “I was just thinking about this fabric,” I say, fingering the soft material. “It looks like… your skin. It’s not, right? It’s not Roth skin?”

He gapes at me. “You truly think our species barbaric enough that we would clothe ourselves in the hides of our own kind?”

“Er,” I say sheepishly. “Yes?”

His nostrils flare, and he regards me stoically. “No.”

We proceed through the station in silence, my skirts swishing slightly as I walk, though the soft black booties underneath barely make any noise.

I love the boots. I love a lot of the new clothes, which is weird, because I never really thought I was into stuff like this. But… it’s easy not to be into stuff like this when you’re poor on Earth, because it’s not exactly like my Federation pay meant I could buy haute couture, and even if I could, where the hell would I have worn it?

“The material comes from an animal that lives on the northern lava plains, where the volcanic ash meets the fertile green stretch before the Roth sea.” Nydo’s voice isn’t like I’ve heard it before. Instead of brash bravado and merciless teasing, he sounds thoughtful.

I glance up at him, sure he’s fucking with me.

His mouth is twisted to the side, a faraway look in his eye. “Roth is a planet of extremes. It’s nothing like Sueva. There are sixty-seven active volcanoes, and the heat and lava falls and magma pools are revered for the energy sources they are. It is a fertile land, savage and dangerous, but beautiful. The ice caves in the northern and southern stretches glow as green as your eyes. It is… like no other place in the universe.” He blinks, then smiles softly down at me. It’s not a teasing look, and for once, I see sincerity behind his words.

“The animal that this comes from—” His hand catches the side of my hood, his knuckles brushing across my cheek as he fingers the material. “—roams the craggy cliffs and braves the elements along the lava plains while grazing on herbs solely found in the juxtaposition of those two harsh climates. It’s a brave and hardy creature. It flourishes where others would perish with one wrong move.”

Our eyes lock, and suddenly, it becomes hard to breathe.

“It reminds me of you,” he finishes softly.

Awareness surges through me at his words, along with a surprising affection. Awareness at his massive, muscled body, his powerful hand, still resting just against my cheek. Affection at his words, at the vulnerable side of him that I’ve never seen before.

And guilt. A whole heaping mountain of guilt, because I’ve been a grade-A ass.

“I’m sorry,” I say suddenly, the words surprising both of us.

“For what?” he asks, truly confused.

“For acting like a total bitch in the store.” I bite my lip. “You didn’t deserve that, Nydo. I… I’m sorry.” I wrinkle my nose, because apologizing isn’t high on my list of favorite things.

“I did deserve it,” he says softly, unblinking, his eyes not glowing now, but full black and wholly alien. “I have… not been kind. I have not been a good male, not like the honorable Suevans. Did you know that I tried to steal Niki away from Draz? I would have killed him for her.”

He says it off-handedly, his palm falling away from my cloak as we wind back through the crowd.

I struggle for a moment with conversational whiplash. “I think I did hear that, yes.”

My first memory of Nydo is one tinged with fear.

Fear… and hope.

Because Nydo was the first Roth I saw, half-awake after being dosed to hell with drugs in a Roth prison, flaming, a living inferno, as he freed me and my crewmates from the cell his own people put me in.

He’s been a thorn in my side since, and I know all too well the misery and wretchedness the Roth have perpetrated across the universes, but I didn’t truly believe he was a villain.

Morally grey, yeah. Physically grey, too.

I digest his confession, letting the sounds and smells of the station wash over me, wholly distracted by the enigma of the male at my side. I slept with him last night. I shared a bed with him, and slept more soundly than I have in… years.