Chapter 4

Evie

Theronix told me I shouldn’t do this; it was a mistake, but I couldn’t help myself. Ever since I’d learned that Aramon had indeed been assigned as my fake fiancé and personal bodyguard, I had wanted to see him again. I was starting to think I’d made up the whole attraction thing, the weirdness I’d felt when our eyes had met that day we’d been rescued—side effects of the wild rollercoaster of feelings I’d experienced when we’d been rescued.

“A princess does not mingle with the common crew. You know this, Evie,” my shadow said. His boots made no noise against the metal floors, his footsteps silent like a wraith. He was almost back to his old self, but I still saw hints of his ordeal in the shadows beneath his eyes and the pinch of his mouth. Theronix used to be one of my favorite guards; he tended to be more relaxed about the rules and not quite so offended by my role in Evadne’s protection. It didn’t feel like that anymore.

As the only person alive who knew who I really was, he seemed to think it was his duty to remind me of what I had to do and how to do it. I felt his anger and resentment over being in that position and having to serve at my side rather than at his princess’s. I thought sometimes that he rather wished he’d perished like the others.

“I know, Theronix,” I said firmly. “But I am doing this. I need to ensure the male they selected is up to the task. Our success will depend on it.” He didn’t say anything; he was angry that I had set this in motion. It stung his pride that I did not trust him to protect me by himself, but he knew he couldn’t go into those meetings. I needed someone at my side if I was going to do this. We’d been thwarted by someone very powerful in getting to the planet, and I knew that some very influential Ovters had played a part in it—maybe even the Sythral who shared their solar system. They had a vested interest in stopping this.

We’d reached the bridge by then, which meant the discussion was over. Theronix would not be caught in public defying the orders of his princess, and though I was not her, for all intents and purposes I was. He crossed his arms over his chest, the gold markings that decorated them curling over his thick biceps. Like any proud Xurtal male, he did not cover his arms and left his marks on display for all to see. It was the scowl on his face that told me he was not about to forget this discussion, or my real place in the hierarchy.

The bridge doors swooshed open silently, and I stepped inside with my breath stuck in my lungs, but my head held high. I took it all in with a glance. The Rummicaron weapon master was at his station, the large portable laser cannon lying on the chair behind him. Asmoded, the captain, sat in his seat, and his mate sat in one of his coils next to him, a datapad in her lap from which she was reading.

I spotted the unfamiliar alien profile of the second-in-command of the ship, seated at his own station and deeply engrossed in whatever data he was reading. A sleek silver hound sat at his knee, large ears perked as it stared my way. My eyes only skimmed over all these people, taking in their positions but little else. They didn’t matter.

Then I saw him. Aramon sat at the helm, sprawled lazily in the chair with one hand on the ship’s yoke, the other curled behind his head. He was the picture of casual relaxation, and I knew a Xurtal pilot would never sit like that. They were much too disciplined and rigid to do so, especially in front of their superior.

His twin was in the navigator’s seat at his side, and he was the first to notice me. He went stiff as a board, his head slowly turning so his red gaze could lock with mine. Since he was identical to his brother, I almost expected to have the same visceral response to him that I had to Aramon, but there was nothing there. I felt a hint of something—unease, maybe—the longer he stared at me, but that all vanished when Aramon jerked upright and abruptly jolted to his feet. He spun around, and his skull-like features broke out into a wide, eager grin.

His gaze made my skin break out in goosebumps, made my nipples grow painfully stiff beneath my jumpsuit, and made my pulse leap in my throat. Yup, all the things were happening that had happened last time. I was very much in lust with this man, and he was right back in lust with me. No, not with me—with Evadne. I couldn’t forget that.

“I’ve come to ask for a status update,” I declared, my voice projecting across the bridge the way I’d been trained to speak. It immediately brought all eyes to me, and I had to suppress my natural inclination to duck my chin. I clung to every bit of my training to keep my cool mask in place and pretend that I wasn’t about to melt into a puddle at Aramon’s feet. Damn it, I hadn’t even talked to this guy—this wasn’t normal. A tiny voice in the back of my head said ‘is it?’ There was only one explanation for this, but I refused to see it.

Asmoded rose from his seat, twisting without moving his coils so his mate could keep reclining in them. I glanced from him to the woman and felt a pang of... well, something. She was human like me, and the desire to talk with her was strong. Because of who I was supposed to be, she was keeping her distance, and I hated that. Evadne wouldn’t have cared; she wouldn’t want to hang out with anyone but ladies of her own kind and status.

“Your miraculous survival has been announced to the convening delegates on Ov’Korad. They were unwilling to delay the talks, so we are about to engage in some creative flying to shorten our travel time. Does that satisfy you, Princess?” The captain drawled the word “princess” as though it was an insult, and it made Theronix bristle at my side. He was about to make a stink of that, but the last thing we needed was to piss off our only means of safely arriving in Akrod.

“Hey, she’s a real princess. Show some respect!” The exclamation did not come from Theronix; it was Aramon. He shouldered his way between his captain and me, disregarding any protocol that demanded he keep out of my personal space. In fact, he rudely turned his back to me—his very wide, very muscular back. Fists planted on his narrow hips, he tilted his head at his boss as if he went toe to toe with scary, intimidating Naga on a daily basis. He probably did.

There was a hush that fell across the bridge, punctuated only by the rapid jiggle of a boot heel against the floor, courtesy of Aramon’s silent twin. All eyes were on Aramon as he squared off against the captain. I felt a flush of warmth that he’d do that, followed by a wash of shame because I was not a princess. It was very tempting to step closer, place my hands on Aramon’s back, and accept the protection he was offering.

“Step back,” Theronix said coolly, and he nudged Aramon’s shoulder with a closed fist. “Respect her from a distance.” That evoked several muffled laughs from the watching crew, but Aramon seemed undeterred. He didn’t budge from Theronix’s nudge either, not so much as an inch. He tilted his head back, angling it to glance over his shoulder at me, with a mischievous glint in the one red eye I could see.

“I don’t think so,” he drawled with a smirk that even colored his voice. “I am her bodyguard. I can’t do that from a ‘respectful’ distance. You want me to pretend to be her fucking male, I’m going to have to get my dirty paws all over her if we want to make it stick.” He moved his hands in a casual ‘what are you gonna do about it’ type of motion, smirking even wider—almost evilly—when Theronix’s mouth grew tight. The words were crude, and they made arousal sear through my veins. I’d be damned if I didn’t admit that the idea of putting on that kind of charade turned me on. When was the last time I’d let any male touch me? I couldn’t remember.

“Enough,” I made myself say, and I shoved the violent feelings of desire, need, and desperate want away. “Theronix, this isn’t the Xurtal Kingdom. We must allow some leniency.” I didn’t dare to look at Aramon, but I could still feel his eyes on me as he looked over his shoulder, grinning as if he were having fun. “Thank you, Captain. I appreciate the update. In your current estimation, will we make it in time?”

The human lady had risen to her feet and moved to stand at her mate’s side, her arms crossed over her chest as she looked at me with a frown. Her eyes were roving over my skin, and it made me all too aware of the illusion that cloaked me—the current that tingled perpetually over my flesh to make the device work. She was suspicious, her face easy to read, but when she stepped forward and dipped into a bow, it was the first respectful bow I’d received since I’d boarded the Varakartoom.

“If I may?” she said, tilting her head to look from me to her mate, and when he nodded, she straightened her pretty green tunic. “We’ll get you to your destination in time, no question about that.” She flung her hand toward Aramon, and to my surprise, that made the huge, bulky Asrai slide to the side and take up a much more respectful position next to his chair. Almost, he looked like a soldier in an at-ease pose, legs braced, arms clasped behind his back. But his eyes still sparkled with a secret mirth only he understood.

“You know of the abilities of the Asrai?” the female continued, and I realized with frustration that I did not know her name. She was ethnically Chinese, but I recognized her accent as Australian. I’d never been to either country, and I never would, but I was struck with a keen desire to learn more—to hear her stories. My mouth was dry as I forced myself to incline my head regally in a nod to answer her question.

“Then you must understand that, with the exception of an Akilidian navigator, nothing could rival a telepathically connected set of Asrai twins at the helm.” She was correct; such setups were the most coveted in the entire quadrant. The Asrai twins' ability to share information made their movements as a navigator and pilot pair uncanny. It was no wonder that the Varakartoom had a reputation for appearing out of thin air on more than one occasion.

This woman knew how to speak with tact and appeared to have a very good grasp of how tenuous the trust was between my party and hers. Every piece of information I had on the Varakartoom told me they were a crew of their word, but they just as easily took jobs on the wrong side of the law as the right side. I could not disregard Theronix’s warning that they might sell me out if they knew I was not the real princess.

“Thank you,” I said, ready to withdraw and deal with the pounding of my heart and my clammy palms. It had never been this hard to pretend to be Evadne as it was now that she was gone. I wanted to go back to that moment when Aramon stood in front of me, standing up for me, that moment when, for a brief flash, everything felt all right. Since I knew that couldn’t happen again, and since it was a fallacy anyway, withdrawing was the next best thing. I had what I came for—answers—and another look at the male that had my stomach in knots.

“Mandy is right,” Aramon said, just as I started to turn away. I froze, my chin lifting automatically to look him in the eye, and I felt that gaze like a punch to the gut. It was potent, full of heat and desire, and it pulled the same yearning out of me. “Solear and I, we’ll get you where you need to go like this.” He snapped his fingers together with a loud cracking noise. “We were just about to announce an FTL jump when you walked in, Princess. Why don’t you watch?” He gestured at the jump seats located against the back wall of the bridge.

Theronix began to interfere immediately, his sensibilities too offended by Aramon’s behavior to let it slide any longer. “Captain, I suggest you find a different male to fulfill the required position on Princess Evadne’s security detail. This male is clearly unsuited. Princess, allow me to escort you to more appropriate seating.” He clasped his hand around my elbow, and the insistent pressure against the sensitive nerves nearly made me buckle in reflex. He meant business, and he would never have made a move like that if I were truly Evadne. He was manhandling me while pretending to act like a gentleman.

I rebelled when I might have made a more sensible choice otherwise. A choice that wouldn’t involve a male that set my blood on fire and made me feel like I was completely out of control while on the most dangerous mission of my life. “No, I wish to observe from here, Theronix.” I twisted my arm in a practiced move designed to escape a too-tight grip, and I knew that all these combat-trained men on the bridge recognized that motion for what it was; I’d made no effort to hide it.

Aramon’s head lowered, a growl rumbling in the air, and his red eyes glowed brighter from inside his deep-set eye sockets, the look made all the more sinister and macabre by the skull-like white markings that covered his face and hairless head. “The lady has spoken,” he warned darkly, and then it was he who was moving to take my arm, gently, so very gently, and guide me to the jumpseat. He was grinning by the time the crew on the bridge started to murmur, and one even openly laughed.

As I arranged myself in the seat as though I were wearing a ballgown, rather than a gray, shapeless jumpsuit, I pinned Aramon with a fierce stare. I did not feel fierce like that, but I knew I had to put him in his place before he started to think he could get away with touching me uninvited. “Of course, Theronix has a point. You are extremely rude, pilot. I shall have to educate you before we reach Ov’Korad, lest you get both of us killed.”

That made Aramon toss back his head and guffaw loudly and very rudely, as if I’d made one hell of a joke. “Fuck yeah, teach me, Princess.” The response made my belly clench with a sharp lance of desire, and instead of etiquette lessons, I was suddenly imagining Aramon on his knees between my naked thighs. Damn it, what was wrong with me?

“Very well,” I said through dry lips. “Proceed.” I gestured at the front of the bridge, “Take us to FTL.” There was a second of silence, followed by an annoyed huff from the captain, but then he started barking orders and making an announcement over the ship-wide intercom.

Theronix strapped himself into the seat next to mine and double-checked my harness before sitting back, arms crossed and a frown on his face. I knew that he was overstepping his position as head guard and that he would never have shown his displeasure that openly if I were Evadne. Suddenly, I feared that he was going to be the one to give the game away.

The captain’s mate, Mandy apparently, took the seat on my other side, and the captain himself personally came to double-check her buckles. He was tender as he pulled on the straps, then kissed her before slithering to his seat with a final, lingering touch of his tail around her ankle. She gave me a gentle, slightly awkward smile and winced when Theronix leaned around me to give her a warning glare.

Enough of that. “Will you tell me about the crew? I’d like to get to know them,” I invited the woman. That was all it took. She started to talk with a warm look in her eyes, describing the males aboard the ship as her family, though she admitted to being only a recent addition herself. I would have never guessed; she seemed right at home. I listened as she talked and asked questions at the right moment; I’d been trained by the best conversationalists. I could keep a conversation going in my sleep. My eyes were stuck on the back of Aramon’s head as he worked with his twin to launch us into speeds Faster-Than-Light.

It was one of the most awe-inspiring things I’d ever seen, and it drove home how connected an Asrai was to his twin. They did not need to speak out loud to communicate, effortlessly anticipating whatever the other needed. The jump through FTL was also nothing like any jumps I’d experienced before. It was… smoother somehow, but that made no sense. I’d flown with ships that were the best of the best before, ships straight from Strewn’s best collection. Nothing but their skills could account for the way I felt as we hurtled at impossible speeds through space.

Aramon tilted his head and grinned at me over his shoulder, one red eye closing in a teasing wink. He knew I was watching him and flaunted what he could do without shame or humility.