Her heart continued to flip-flop in her chest. “All right. I’ll tell him. But I’ll wait until he returns and I can do it in person.”
Rok ambled in. “Are you three still eating?” he teased. “I’ve never understood how such tiny beings could require so much food. Lily depleted my ship’s entire store of food while she was on it.”
Lily’s laugh rang out. “That’s not true.” She stood up and sauntered to her mate, whose eyes followed the swing of her hips with an appreciative gaze. “Did you recharge in the crystal room?”
He nodded. “I did.” He flexed his biceps. “Can’t you tell?”
She laughed again, her pleasure at being near her mate so palpable, Leora thought she could almost see waves of love transferring between the two.
Both her daughters had found their true mates—in an alien species, no less. She couldn’t be happier for them.
Sweet Mother Earth.
She wanted her own alien mate. She wanted Seke. But not if he didn’t want her. The weariness returned to her limbs. She stood, too, needing to be alone.
At least she had a grandbaby to look forward to. It would give her some purpose in her otherwise empty life.
~.~
Seke worked without a break all planet rotation, but nothing distracted him from, nor made a dent in, his misery. Leora filled every thought. He felt her presence with him, as if they were still locked together in his chamber, as if he might turn and find her just a few meters away at any moment.
He’d made Lundric practice hand-to-hand combat with him for two hours after most of the pod had bedded down for the night, hoping to dull his agony, but it was no use.
Now, as he walked through the silent corridors, the unease of the humans seemed to radiate from the very walls. The Zandians had saved them from their death, but the humans still didn’t trust them. No one slept in the prison cells that had housed them on the way there, even though Rok had disabled all the locks. They chose, instead, to bed down together on floors in the larger halls. They obeyed orders warily—interested in learning how to defend themselves but not sure they could trust their trainers.
He didn’t blame them.
Utilizing the humans to fight their war in exchange for sanctuary once Zandia was won was either a stroke of pure genius, or it would be the downfall of their war plan. Since the vision had come to Lamira, he had to trust it was genius. Still, Prince Zander had been granted sanctuary on Ocretia, and their empress wouldn’t take kindly to the siphoning off and freeing of their slaves.
Hopefully by the time they realized they were harboring escaped slaves, the Zandians would have regained enough power to hold their own.
Seke’s cuff blinked with an incoming hologram from Zander. He accepted it. “Please tell me you worked everything out with your mate.”
“I did. I’m not sure whether to thank you or throttle you for the advice you gave me.”
“Come over here and try to throttle me. I could use a challenge.”
“Yes.” Zander hesitated, and he realized, for once, his pupil might have been trying to give him advice. “A vow of celibacy may have made sense before our species was in danger of extinction.”
His brows slammed down. Veck this. Zander had no vecking idea what his vow was about.
“You saved me instead of them, didn’t you?”
Breath whooshed in his lungs before he expected it, and he almost choked.
“I should have known that. I should have guessed. I’m so coddled here, it never occurred to me. I knew you lost them, but I didn’t realize you might have had a choice of who to save.”
Seke swallowed, hard. His stomach sank like he’d eaten a boulder. “There was no choice.” He barely got the words out. Zander had become a son to him, after they escaped. He’d practically raised the boy—he loved him like his own family. “I am Master at Arms. I serve the Zandian throne.”
Zander looked stricken. “I’ll never be able to repay that debt. Even if I win back Zandia.”
It was a heavy task Seke had set on the prince’s shoulders from a young age. Seke had forced the same sense of duty on Zander he’d upheld himself. Zander had to study for war, amass enough wealth, and lead a campaign to regain their home. But there was no way he’d let the boy carry the weight of his family’s death, too. Seke forced breath into his lungs. Out of them. Memories from the invasion flashed before his eyes. The marble ceiling of the ancient palace crashing down around them, explosions everywhere.
“You were closer,” he croaked. “I had a better chance of getting you out than I did going for them. We’d probably all be dead if I’d chosen differently.”
He’d forgotten that truth in his daily self-condemnation. He hadn’t just chosen for duty. He’d made the only choice there had been—the one that saved two Zandian lives.