Surprise brightens her face, but she doesn’t protest, doesn’t look back at the scene we leave. When we get down the corridor, and away from the oppression of male hormones and aggressive posturing, she kicks her feet.
“I can walk, you know.”
“You will never walk when I can carry you,” Tarren growls. “Not when there are other males sniffing around you like beasts.”
“And I suppose you think you three are different?” There’s a dryness to her tone that’s particular to humans. I haven’t learned all the nuances of their communication yet, but I think it’s called sarcasm.
“You left with us, didn’t you?” Jax challenges.
Her long-lashed golden eyes slide left to take in Jax. She purses her lips, but they’ve started to curve up. “Lesser of two evils,” she mutters. “Will you please put me down?” She starts to struggle against Tarren again when we leave the pod. “Where are we going?”
“How would you like a tour of the palatial pod?” I offer, trying to make it sound like a real treat. “Have you seen the Great Hall?”
She stops squirming, relaxing into Tarren’s hold. “No.”
“Would you like to? It’s quite beautif
ul.”
“Only if I get to walk.”
Jax smiles at our little small victory. Tarren stops and drops her to her feet without a word or smile, still in gruff protector mode. I shudder to think what would’ve happened if we’d found another male touching Riya when we arrived. My cousin is not to be challenged when he’s serious about a fight.
Jax claims one of her hands, and I sweep in to grab the other, figuring Tarren already had his turn carrying her.
Jax and I start a running commentary on the finer points of the palatial pod as we enter, explaining some of the history of our species’ survival after we escaped the Finnian invasion of our planet.
She walks along beside us, but I don’t think she’s listening.
She looks… worried. Which makes me want to pull her into my arms and soothe away her fears.
Does she think we’re trying to get her into our chamber so we can take our turns with her?
Veck, that exact scenario is probably on all of our minds. Which means I need to come up with another tactic. Fast.
Riya
I wish the warriors would give me my hands back. My palms are clammy from nerves and I hate knowing I couldn’t run away if I tried.
Ronan seems to sense my discomfort, because he’s running his mouth at warp speed as if to distract me.
The trouble is, it only makes me more nervous.
These guys aren’t like the Ocretion slave masters, but I have no doubt about what they want. Could they force me? Yes. Will they?
I remember Tarren’s anger when he realized I’d been forced in the past.
No. I’m safe enough.
Not from their charm.
But that’s crazy. I’m not actually going to fall for these males. That would be even more disastrous than agreeing I’m their mate. Because I won’t get to keep them. Not after they find out I’m barren.
I stop walking. We took a lift to the main level and they’ve shown me all through the beautiful, opulent palace. Now we’re in an empty corridor of a lower level, where I suspect their chamber must be.
“Listen.” I pull my hands of out of theirs and place them on my hips. “You think you want me for your mate?” I look up at their handsome faces—their square jaws, smooth, hairless peachy-purple skin. Hungry eyes.
Three pairs of horns lean in my direction. Three males nod.