The door slid open to reveal three of Hillas’s guardsmen awaiting their arrival. For protocol, only one was sufficient to escort Roden to the Grand Lord. Sending more was a brazen display of power. Three guardsmen? An affront to his pride. It would take at least a half dozen to take down Roden. The old man clearly underestimated his Second. And that would be his downfall.
Brushing against his wings, Nalea moved around Roden to step out of the ship first, with Roden right behind, still holding his hand. When he stood at her side, she looked up at him and gave him a warm smile. It nearly melted his frozen heart.
Fyet,
that woman could act.
He returned the smile. Only he wasn’t acting.
Nalea expected betrayal. Or, she at least expected Roden to kick his plan into action the moment the guardsmen closed the door behind them. She hadn’t expected the
waiting.
It’d been over an hour since they’d been left alone in a small office and still no sign of Hillas. Oh, she had no doubt the Grand Lord was watching them over a live video feed that very moment. She tried to play her part, a part made no easier by the chilly temperature. Roden had said the Draeken were facing the same power shortage her people were, and the cold didn’t prove him wrong. The lights were dim enough she could remove the dark glasses Roden had given her earlier today, but she’d left them on so that she didn’t have to look Roden in the eye. He saw too much the way it was.
Unlike Nalea, stuck in a scrap of clothing and acting as a well-behaved consort, Roden had it easy. He didn’t have to act. He was being his usual arrogant, distracting self. He sat opposite her, watching her while leisurely propped upon an elbow, his loose shirt gaping open enough to put his chiseled chest on display. It was easy to look attracted to him. A woman of any race would fall for his masculine perfection, only to be later scalded by his lethal intentions. Despite nature working against her, Nalea knew better than to let him get too close. She mentally scolded herself for noticing his body again. He needed to remain in the look-but-don’t-touch category.
In between idle chat with her “consort,” she tugged at the dress as she tried to find a more comfortable seating position. Her chair was like Roden’s, a classic Draeken style, made of ornate metals and a narrow curving back to accommodate wings. In another word, uncomfortable. She blew out a breath. “He knew you were coming, right?”
“Aye.” Roden frowned. “He’s not usually so late.”
She crossed her legs and hands and discovered Roden watching her with rapt attention. When he caught her gaze, she flushed. He smirked and came to his feet, stretching his leathery wings momentarily, causing the tattoos to make a flurry of dark colors.
The room was silent except for the sound of his approach. She found a sudden fascination with her short nails. When his shadow fell over her, it was impossible to ignore him. She could’ve sworn he thrived on her discomfort. Roden and his blasted games.
Well, let him play.
She’d changed her plan.
Kill Hillas. Then, run like hell before Roden could finish the job.
The
tahren
bond wouldn’t let her kill Roden the first time she tried. She knew better than to try again. She needed to work out an escape plan. Later, because right then he reached down and grabbed her hand, pulling it up to nip her fingers. Hard enough she’d felt it but not hard enough to cause pain. Tingles shot through her, and she yanked her hand away before remembering that Hillas was likely watching.
He frowned. Then he bent down. She froze, looking into his eyes, waiting for the kiss. And most definitely
not
looking forward to feeling his lips press against hers. Just as he brushed against her lips, an alarm blared from a base-com around them. The deep tones reverberated through the room. Nalea jumped to her feet, and Roden grabbed her wrist.
“They found the base,” he said, as though speaking his thoughts aloud.
Did he sound pleased?
Nalea sucked in a breath. “Who?”
“Sephians,” he replied, and then added drily, “And their new friends, I suspect.”
Had her people aligned with the humans? Sienna and Apolo had planned another meeting with several indigenous leaders before she’d been taken. She could only hope that they’d aligned and not become slaves to yet another race.
A new plan formed in her mind.
Escape now. Kill Hillas later.
A cacophony of gun shots and blaster shots sounded outside the main door. Roden pulled out a blaster, turned and headed toward the side door. “Sounds like they’re in the landing bay. This room is close enough that if they’re any good, they’ll get here within minutes. I suggest we move to somewhere a bit more secure.”
He opened the door. He never saw the chair coming crashing down on his head from behind. He crumpled, his head hitting the floor with a loud
crack.
He wasn’t out cold yet, but definitely incapacitated as he sought to regain his bearings.
Conflicting emotions bombarded her, and though she didn’t want to admit it, hurting Roden
hurt
her. Nalea dropped the chair and tried to bite back the guilt roiling in her as she stepped on Roden’s wrist, relieving him of his weapon as he groggily reached out for her, then stepped over him and bolted through the doorway. Once in the hallway, the need for freedom quickly overcame guilt.
Knowing Roden would be back on his feet within seconds and extremely pissed off, she weaved as quickly as she could through the winding hallways without risking a twisted ankle. Taking the same way they’d come, she ran directly toward the sound of gunfire.
As she slowed to turn a sharp corner, a hole appeared in the wall near Nalea’s right shoulder. She stumbled to an abrupt stop.
“Don’t move,” a familiar masculine voice called out with the welcomed lilt of a Sephian accent.
Nalea sucked in a breath when she linked the man with the voice. “Apolo!”
“Nalea?” Apolo scowled, then his eyes widened. He held out his arms, and she sprang into them. He embraced her hard, and she didn’t let go.
“
Suvaste
, girl, I thought you were dead. Thanks the gods he was wrong.”
“It’s so damn good to see you, Apolo,” she said, making a mental note to double her prayers of gratitude tonight. She looked up into his dark eyes. “How in the hells did you find this place?”
“My scout sent a beacon. Lit up this base on the grid like an erupting volcano.”
“Kreed is alive?” Nalea asked. The last she’d heard, Apolo’s scout had gone dark. Everyone assumed he’d been compromised.
Apolo nodded, then took a step back and frowned. “What in the gods’ names are you wearing?”
“Long story,” she muttered. “We need to hurry. Roden is right behind me.”
At the mention of the Draeken’s name, Apolo scowled. “We’ll talk. Later. Right now, we need to get you out of here.”
Exhilaration shot through her, only to be smothered by a sense of impending doom. When Apolo pulled her forward, she dug in her heels.
The sounds of multiple pair of pounding boot steps broke through the silence. Apolo glanced down the hallway, and then turned back to her, frowning. “We have to move fast. This is just the first assault on this base. We may have caught these guys off guard, but they’ll regroup quickly. And we need to be out of here by then.”
Furious at herself, she slammed her palm against the wall. “I want to go, but I can’t.”
“What are you talking about?” Apolo said, tightening his grip.
She pulled him into another embrace and kissed his cheek. “It was stupid of me to run. I have a shot at Hillas, and I’ve got to take it.” She wanted to leave, more than anything. But, running was selfish, pure and simple. Despite not trusting Roden, he gave her a chance to eliminate the Grand Lord and possibly put an end to a decades-long war.
Apolo shook his head and stepped back. “Listen, I’ll try to get my scout to you. If it’s possible, Kreed will get you out of this mess.” His words sounded tired, laden with remorse.
She nodded. “Thanks.”
With that, Apolo broke away from her and turned back the way he’d come.
“And — Apolo?”
He looked back.
She went to speak but her lips trembled and her throat tightened. The words refused to come out.
He gave her a warm smile. “I know. Now, go get yourself to safety. We’ll get you home.” Her leader gave her one last look before turning back toward the sounds coming quickly at them.
She nodded, the lump in her throat still preventing her from speaking. Her mind swirled, and her heart ached as though she’d never see Apolo — or Sienna — again. But, regardless of her feelings, she was doing the right thing. Like it or not, she and a particular Draeken lord were the best chance Earth had. If he didn’t kill her when she returned to him, that was.
A vise gripped her neck and wrenched her backward, throwing her against the wall hard enough that it took a couple seconds to regain her vision. By then, she’d felt the blaster snatched from her hand. Roden maintained an iron grip on her wrist as he yanked her through the hallways and away from the sounds of gunfire. Still coughing for air, she tumbled behind him, getting dragged as much as walking.
“I was. Coming back. For you,” she sputtered.
He stopped abruptly, and she stumbled against his back. His wings flicked angrily in response. He turned to face her. Blood still flowed from his head, a sign that didn’t bode well for either Roden’s current temper or his retaliation against her later. His eyes were hard and cold. “Lies don’t suit you.”
She fought to break free, but the seriously pissed-off man pinched a nerve in her hand. She cried out and nearly collapsed against him. Then he yanked her forward again.
The sound of gunfire was closing in quickly and loudly. Nalea picked up the pace but still struggled to keep up with the taller man.
Roden pulled her through winding, empty hallways, and she let him. Every now and then, they were met by Draeken guardsmen, who paused only long enough for Roden to send them off with a curt command.
He kept a firm grip as he rushed them down hallways, until the sounds behind them tapered off. They continued for minutes, every now and then stopping to find a locked door. He would curse and move on, clearly little more familiar with this particular base than Nalea.
He turned them down a darker hallway than the one they’d been in before. No lights were installed yet here. He moved to the side. “
Fyet
. Can you find a door?”
Nalea stepped in front. Her inner voice still craved to make a break for it, but the hand wrapped around her wrist assured her Roden would be right behind her. Her eyes adjusted to the dark and she walked forward, slowly at first, then jogging as she headed toward indentions in the walls. Doors. Not just any doors. These didn’t even have security tags on them yet.
Nalea skimmed past the first and chose the second. The door opened easily, and she stepped into the small room. Sized for a typical sleeping room, it wasn’t much larger than a closet, just enough room for a bed and trunk. Hillas was expanding this base, but where was he going to find more guardsmen?
Was there more than one core ship?
Roden pressed the door closed and turned to face her, although in the darkness she doubted he could see anything. She watched the blaster he held at his side. And she realized that the entire time he pulled her through the hallways, even now, he’d never pointed the weapon at her.
She stepped closer, wrapping her hand around his wrist holding the weapon. “The game’s changed, Roden,” she whispered. “I’m here now because I
chose
to stay. I’m no longer your prisoner. I’ll never be your slave. I’m your godsdamned
tahren
.”
“
Tahren
, aye?”
Roden’s husky whisper sent shivers flitting across Nalea’s skin. He stepped toward her in the darkness, forcing her back against the wall. The small room suddenly felt smaller. Instinctively, she placed her hand on his chest to hold him at bay. His heart beat strong and steady beneath her palm, while hers beat shallow and fast.
Holstering his weapon, he reached out and grabbed her hip, pulling her against him. His shaft was swollen and hard against her stomach. The light caught the slightest glint of the wetness on his temple. A pang of guilt shot through her.
She meant to apologize, but instead she found her body moving in rhythm with his, trying to rub harder against his thigh pressed between her legs. A pang of reality hit her. “We’re not safe,” she said on a breath.
“Apolo and his men will be gone by now,” Roden murmured as he grabbed her hair, tilting her head for a kiss.
“How’d you know Apolo was here?”
He nuzzled her ear, his breath sending a shiver through her. “They were here for a quick scare, to show Hillas they’ve got him where they want him. Now, he can’t evacuate without looking like he’s running scared. And his pride would never allow that.”
“How could you know,” she murmured into his mouth before he deepened the kiss, cutting off any more discussion. He tasted of pleasure and passion. Utterly vulnerable, desire burned through her. He was hers and she would have him. She nipped at his tongue, wanting to take him completely. He obliged by thrusting deeper. He grabbed her hips and rubbed himself against her. Their clothing did nothing but add friction, kindling the fire within her to start an inferno.
She wrenched back, tearing her mouth from his. She pulled his shirt out from his kilt and slid it off him, dropping it to the floor. He stood there, making no movement other than breathing heavy, as her hands swept over his chest, his skin hot beneath her touch.
Reaching behind him, she felt where his wings melded with his back. He sighed as she stroked the spot, and she felt the all-too-familiar regret at never experiencing unassisted flight. In the dark, where she felt her way around him, her fingers discovered skin battered by scars. Draeken, with their advanced technology, rarely scarred. Roden Zyll was a man who’d clearly seen battles much of his life.
“You start this,” Roden said as he took her wrist, his thumb rubbing surprisingly gentle and slow over her vein. His eyes were closed, as though he was somewhere far away. His chiseled body was tense with anticipation. He brought her hand up to his lips. Kissed her palm. “There will be no stopping this time.”