“It seems so.”
A heavy silence fell over them. How did she know? Was she part of this assassination plot? Had she been planted as an insider? Perhaps she’d fallen in love and changed her mind.
In love. The thought tore at his heart.
She’d saved his life and he’d whipped her for her troubles.
But who was she? A stone sank to the pit of his stomach. He could never trust this human. Not even if he kept her locked up in a cage for the rest of her life. There were too many unknowns about her unusual knowledge, and too many beings who wanted him dead.
~.~
Lamira jerked awake to the sound of voices in the corridor. She shifted in the cage and gasped at the pain still radiating from her ass. Worse was the incredible tightness in her chest, the heaviness of lead weighing it down.
Zander. Her Zander. Was he already dead? Some part of her wailed inside in mourning.
The door slid open.
Was it already lunchtime?
She twisted and her breath caught.
“Zander!”
Her master looked pale, but unharmed. His haunted gaze raked over her.
“Open cage.”
She scrambled out and he caught her and lifted her down, but his brows were drawn together, as if disturbed.
“Zander, are you all right?”
“You knew.” His voice cracked.
She reached out to touch his face, still overjoyed to see him alive.
He caught her wrist but allowed the touch, pressing her hand to his cheek. “Were you trying to save me?”
If her emotions were not so wrecked from fear and then joy, she would have played it differently. She would have played ignorant. But his drawn expression made her worry—perhaps his crew had died.
“A-are you all right? Was anyone hurt?”
“Who set the bomb? How are you connected to them?” The lash of his cold voice whipped her.
Sh
e jerked her hand away, realizing her colossal mistake. Shaking her head, she backed away. “No...I don’t know anything.”
“Enough with your lies!” He lunged forward and caught her by the throat, lifting her from the floor and squeezing until her breath died.
She kicked and clawed at his fingers, her eyes bugging out in panic.
As if he suddenly realized he might kill her, he dropped her, pain etched in the deepened lines on his forehead.
She coughed, rubbing her throat.
He stood staring at her, his fingers clenching and unclenching in fists. Were those tears swimming in his eyes?
The sight of him, so reduced from her deceit, made her abandon her pretense and speak more directly. “I’m not working with your enemies—I swear to you, Zander. I have no connections. But I can’t tell you how I knew or it could mean my life.”