Mina couldn’t muster even a smile during the back-slapping and congratulations that went on back at the training pod. The mission should be considered a success. All three galactacarriers had been restored, and apart from minor injuries, no one had been hurt.
The teams tried to make her the hero, but she refused.
A hero doesn’t get on her knees to service the criminal. She doesn’t let herself get dragged naked to his chamber to be kept as his pet. She sure as veck doesn’t need to be rescued and carried out lifeless by another male.
Another male who seemed to be suffering as much as she now.
He must be battling his own demons now. He’d never wanted to let her go in. Never wanted her to use her body as bait. He’d made it plain to her how much it cost him. But she’d insisted. And then he had to listen to her offer herself to another male.
A disgusting rodent of a male.
But as much as she cared about Erick and wished she could ease his turmoil, she couldn’t. She couldn’t see her way out of her own.
And the only answer she could see— the best one she knew—was to leave Mina behind.
She needed to get back to the palatial pod and figure out a life as Tara. Get to know her sister and father. Be without a male for a while until she knew her head from her ass.
Because she couldn’t sort through her tangled emotions around sex and slavery and the things she’d done.
It wasn’t Erick’s fault.
But she couldn’t be with him. Not now, anyway. Not until she knew who she was—away from her life as Mina.
~.~
Escorting Mina back to the palatial pod should have been an honor. At least she’d asked him. They were the first words she’d spoken to him since they returned from the mission.
But knowing she was returning in defeat, knowing she was resolved to permanently turn away from her life as Mina left him cold.
It meant he’d be shut out, too. Because he loved Mina.
Wait—that wasn’t true. He loved Taramina. All the parts of her. He didn’t see the distinction between the two. But she did.
She did, and that was all that mattered. He couldn’t make her accept herself or her past. Only she could do that. And he couldn’t convince her to keep him in her life if she’d decided to shut off an entire piece of herself. The piece with him in it.
The flight to the pod was silent, in the worst possible way.
The air hung thick and heavy between them. He wanted to give her space—knew she wouldn’t want him to harangue her about her choice. Yet, he also felt the apology from her. The extra politeness. The sad pursing of her lips when she looked at him.
But, veck that. He didn’t want her apology. He wanted her.
He just had to figure out how to get through to her.
And it wasn’t through sex.
They needed some other connection. But as much as he tried to come up with something, he fell flat.
He didn’t even know her Tara side.
Hell, she didn’t even know her Tara side.
So, he’d have to help her figure it out. What would a bright, ambitious female find interesting on the palatial pod?
It wasn’t caring for infants or plants. She wasn’t wired the same as Bayla or Lamira.
Maybe he could find her a job in research and strategy for the big strike to take Zandia back.
His mind was working so hard on a solution, he failed to notice the same ship had stayed behind them at the same distance for quite some time.