“I mean… I’ve never been with a Cygnian princess before.”
“Get out of here. You own the biggest collection of escaped Cygnians in the galaxy.”
“I know, but we don’t… partake.”
I sit down, still watching her. And she laughs as she lifts a fork of pasta and fowl to her mouth. Looks at it dubiously for a moment, then decides she’s too hungry to care what it is and takes a bite. “Pretty good,” she says.
“Damn right it is,” I say, taking a bite of my own.
“You have never—”
“Nope,” I say. “Never. Crux hasn’t either. I mean, we’ve seen you all glow. We do the royal test on everyone. So that I’ve seen many times. But I have to tell you, Lyra. I’ve never seen what you did today. Not the dull one and not the bright one either. I’m gonna assume the dull one was the reason you had that… uh, little problem with your flux capacitor…”
“Luminous flux.” She laughs.
“Whatever. So what the hell was that? You had light coming out of your eyes.”
“I know.” She sighs, looking down at her plate.
“So what was it? Just… you had repressed it for too long and it just came bursting out? Like a flood, or something?”
“Maybe,” she says, taking another bite of food.
“Or maybe not?”
“Or maybe not.”
“Hmmm.”
She puts her fork down and looks me in the eyes. “I don’t really know what happened back there.”
“You ready to talk about it now?” I ask. “Because you said you weren’t before.”
“I just don’t understand why I got so…”
“Horny?”
She laughs, then looks away, trying to hide her smile with a hand over her mouth. “I think it was the repressor. Had to have been. Because that’s not usually what happens.”
I nod at her, thinking back to her test this morning. It was dull by most standards. But it wasn’t that different than what I’ve seen in the past.
This shit in the exam room—light coming out of her eyes, and her pussy, and hell, pouring out of her whole body—not normal.
“So what aren’t you telling me?”
She takes a deep breath but says nothing.
“OK,” I say. “I get it. It’s been a long day. Let’s discuss sleeping arrangements.”
“I’ll take the couch.”
I laugh. “Oh, hell no, princess. If you think I’m taking my eyes off you for one picosecond, you’re insane.”
“What do you mean?”
“Lyra,” I say in my most condescending, yet patient voice. “You’re a lying little minx. Pretty much everything you’ve told me today is just bullshit. We’re sleeping in my bed. Together. In fact, I’m going to tether you to it with the bracelets.”
“The hell, Serpint?”
“I don’t trust you. Not one bit. And this whole thing reeks of an imminent attack on the station by a legion of Cygnian soldiers.” I take a bite of food and chew, pointing my fork at her. “And it’s because of you.”
It’s also because I stole their queen, but that’s just details she doesn’t need to know about.
“You’re not chaining me to the bed.”
“Oh, yes, I am. I haven’t talked to Crux yet. But tomorrow you and I are going up there and we’re gonna put you on drugs to drag the whole truth out.”
I’m making this part up. But we could do that. In fact… we should do that.
She glares at me and drops her fork onto her plate. “I’m done.”
But I just smile and get up from the table, saying, “Not quite, princess,” as I grab the tushberry pudding from the fridge and set it in front of her. I pop a cork on a bottle of passion lime sparkling wine, pour her a glass, and say, “You didn’t have dessert yet.”
She takes in another deep breath. Holds it. Then lets it out. Repeats that three times. Like this is some relaxation technique she learned in a Cygnian military class called How to Get Through a Night of Captivity with an Akeelian Male.
The whole display just makes me grin.
“Why are you being such a dick?”
“I’m not being a dick. I’m being super cool. I made you dinner, I made you dessert, I let you shower and wear my clothes. And now I’m insisting that you sleep in my spectacular bed. With me in it. What more could you want?”
“How about some privacy? And some clothes that are actually mine?”
I point to her flute of champagne and say, “Drink up. You need your special nutrients.”
She eyes the glass of sparkling wine and must come to the same conclusion. Because she lifts it to those fantastic, pouty pink lips and takes a sip.
And then closes her eyes. Sighs. And relaxes for several second before opening them again and drinking the entire flute in one go.
Huh. She really did need it.
“Better?” I ask, taking another bite of my dinner.
She doesn’t answer, or even look at me. But she does pick up a spoon and eat her pudding.