Chapter Twelve

Conyod left the mess hall after breakfast, hurrying toward the visitor's shuttle pad. He and Sletran had lingered at the meal until the Nobek had to rush off to start his shift for the day, so they'd said their goodbyes until the next time they could get together.

Conyod stopped in Sletran's quarters to grab his overnight bag. Whistling contentment, he was halfway to his shuttle when a voice hailed him.

Already smiling, he turned to see Erybet walking in his direction. His smile faltered for a second at the sight of a stranger keeping step with the Dramok. A Nobek, the insignia pins on his uniform identifying him as a fellow group commander.

He just happened to see me while already in the guy's company. This isn't Sletran's competition, Nobek Tox.

"Hey, you weren't running off without saying goodbye, were you?" Erybet's bright grin offset the demand as he and his companion drew close.

"I figured you were already neck deep at work. Did last night's meeting go okay?"

The Dramok's smile faltered for an instant, then returned in full force. He waved off the matter. "It was ronka shit. I'll live to fight another day. Hey, let me introduce you to an old friend. This is Group Commander Nobek Tox."

"Not so old, thanks." Tox chuckled and bowed.

He was nearly as tall as Sletran, but his physique was more streamlined, built for speed rather than strength. A crooked nose and a scar along his jaw didn't detract from otherwise appealing looks. In fact, they lent him character Conyod supposed would be attractive, had he been in the market for a lesser Nobek.

"A pleasure to meet you, Group Commander," he lied. His stomach churned as he caught a whiff of the man's scent: a pleasant soap aroma from a recent shower that failed to erase a smell Conyod had gotten to know…Erybet's distinctive musk.

"So formal. Please call me Tox," the beaming man invited. "I've heard a lot about you from Erybet. The reports are complimentary, unlike what he might have said about me."

"You know I hold you in the highest esteem," Erybet laughed. "As much as I do Conyod."

Conyod stilled the sharp retort that wanted to come. For all he knew, Tox was uninformed of his and Sletran's iron-clad relationship. Erybet might have set up this surprise meeting while neglecting to tell Tox of it.

He put on a show of politeness. "It's good to meet you. I apologize for being in a rush, but I have rounds this afternoon at the hospital."

"Erybet told me you're an up-and-coming psychologist. Impressive." Tox's com went off. He checked the message and grimaced. He gave Erybet a significant gaze. "It would appear I have to run off too. I hope I can run into you again soon, Conyod. Catch up with you later, Erybet."

His summons must have been important because he zipped off after a hurried bow to Conyod.

"I'll walk you to your shuttle," Erybet offered, his expression determinedly cheerful. Conyod didn't miss he glanced after the swiftly moving Tox. His brow creased in what the Imdiko guessed was concern.

Conyod resumed his trek to the visitors' pad. As the Dramok kept pace next to him, he scented Tox on his companion.

"You two spent the night together. You could have joined Sletran and me instead." He managed to keep his tone steady.

Erybet drew a deep breath. "The meeting with High Commander Zyrf didn't go as well as I might have indicated. It didn't go well at all."

Conyod slowed, then halted. "What do you mean?"

Erybet also stopped. He shrugged and gazed in the distance. "Like I said, it was a pile of ronka shit he threw at me. He's hoping to make it stick so he can build a case for stripping me of rank."

"You and Sletran?" Conyod gasped.

"Just me. Sletran's safe. I made sure of it. He isn't the focus of Zyrf's campaign anyway."

Conyod stared at Erybet. "I don't understand. You weren't there when the explosion happened. How could you be responsible for it?"

"Zyrf has this whole song and dance about my not adequately controlling my men, neglecting proper discipline, so on. What it boils down to is he hates a member of my breed climbing the ranks in a Nobek's army. He's had it out for me since he was assigned as my superior."

"Tox gave you a look after he received a com message. Did it—"

"Zyrf's on a fishing expedition. He's interviewing a bunch of group commanders in hopes of finding allegations I'm derelict in my duties. I do everything by the book, and I document it. I doubt he can make anything stick, but in the meantime, he'll go out of his way to be a pain in my ass."

"I'm sorry he's putting you through this, Erybet. Isn't there anyone you can appeal to?"

The Dramok grinned. "Would a Nobek do so? How much respect do you think I'd earn crying to the oversight committee full of their breed that High Commander Zyrf is picking on me?"

He had a point, Conyod realized. "You could have chosen an easier career."

"Easy has no merit. I love being a soldier."

"So why Tox last night? What made him a better choice than me and Sletran?" Because Erybet was having such a difficult time thanks to his superior, Conyod was able to ask the question without sounding accusing.

"My mood. I realize you'll eventually have to see the less flattering aspects of my personality, and I intend to be honest on that account, but it feels too soon. I hate to scare you away when I'm so pissed off I can't be nice. Tox knows the pressures I'm under. He can handle me being rough and angry." Erybet stroked the back of his fingers along Conyod's jaw. His voice softened. "You don't deserve me in such a state. I have a lot to learn when it comes to my temper being less overwhelming around an Imdiko."

Conyod might have appreciated the sentiment if he couldn't smell Tox on Erybet. "I'm not delicate, Erybet. As a psychologist, I deal in anger and the less positive emotions of those who have little to no control. Besides, Sletran understands what you're facing. He may be of lower rank, but he's still responsible for his men and has pressure from his superiors, like you."

Erybet huffed, a note of irritation coming through. "Conyod…I don't think Sletran is for me. I'm sorry, but Tox is more my speed. If you give him a chance, I believe you'd be impressed."

Conyod's stomach felt like lead. "I might be impressed, but it's Sletran I love. I told you, I can't consider another Nobek."

"I don't want Sletran. I do want you, however. I wish to be the Dramok you need."

Conyod stepped back. His guts hurt, and his heart thumped slowly. Painfully. He didn't want to do this, especially when Erybet was already combatting his supervisor, but…

"There's no you and me unless Sletran is part of it. Since he'd hate to be considered simply so you and I can be together, if he has no hope of being in your heart…no. No, Erybet. I'm sorry, but this affair between you and me is done. I must choose him because I can't be happy otherwise."

"But…" Erybet stopped, apparently at a loss for words. For an instant, Conyod saw hurt and confusion on his lovely face. He saw he'd come to mean something important to the Dramok.

"Sletran is my Nobek." He struggled to keep his voice from breaking.

Erybet straightened and careful control settled on his features. "I'm sorry you feel that way, Conyod. I'd hoped I could prove my worth to you."

"You have. You could have had a piece of my heart, but only alongside Sletran. Take care of yourself, Erybet. I hope everything goes well for you."

His heart shattering, Conyod hurried to his shuttle before he could embarrass himself by bursting into tears.

Erybet watched Conyod go. His senses screamed to call him back, to ask him for another chance, to discover some way they could make it right between them. He felt as if his heart was being torn from his body with every step the hunched Imdiko took from him.

Don't go.The words screamed in his mind, but he didn't voice them. He was a Dramok. He never begged, no matter how desperately he wished for something…or someone. Even someone as special and perfect as Imdiko Conyod.

He'll be back. When his crush on Sletran cools, he'll think of me.Erybet wanted to believe it was true. He stubbornly ignored the clarity he'd seen in Conyod's eyes, the assurance in spite of the obvious regret when the Imdiko had spoken of his love and how he wouldn't be happy unless Sletran remained in his life.

Conyod was nearly to the building he'd disappear behind to reach the shuttle pad. Erybet waited for him to look his way. If Conyod glanced to see him still standing there and watching him, Erybet knew he'd return. Perhaps not just then, but someday.

"Turn around. Look at me," he whispered, directing his formidable will to somehow force Conyod to do so.

His head down, Conyod made the turn behind the building and disappeared. He didn't look back.

* * * *

"It's over," Conyod told Sletran's vid image late that night as he sat on the edge of his sleeping mat. He swallowed, hearing how choked he sounded.

The Nobek sighed. "I wish it could have been different. There's a lot I like about Erybet, as a Dramok and a man and a potential clanmate. But if I'm not what he wants, it's for the best it ends now. I just wish you hadn't been caught in the middle like this."

"Maybe I do fall in love too easily. It could be true I'm na?ve to have let myself care for him so quickly."

"Hey." Sletran's sharp tone woke Conyod from the morose mood consuming him. "You've done nothing wrong to feel as you do. Some men never give themselves the chance to let others in their hearts, especially when love has hurt them in the past. As the Nobek you held out for despite the obstacles I put in your path, I'm impressed by how you put yourself on the line."

Conyod managed a smile. "When I know someone's perfect, I know. Well, I thought I did. At least I got it right where you're concerned."

"We'll find the Dramok meant for us, my Imdiko. I swear it, even if it takes us two hundred years and I'm two steps from my deathbed when we do so."

The idea of Sletran and himself, old and gray and tottering but still on the prowl for a clan leader, should have been depressing. Instead, the image of them sizing up Dramoks in a club or bar as elderly men made Conyod laugh.

Sletran grinned. "There you go. Try to get some sleep, okay? Tomorrow, you'll be a little better. The next day, a bit more of the pain will fade. One day at a time, my Imdiko."

"Who's the psychologist here?" Conyod chuckled. "All right, my Nobek. I love you. Goodnight."

"Goodnight. I'll see you in my dreams."

* * * *

Erybet sat holding a cup of dlas. He wished for a stronger drink, but he knew he wouldn't indulge. He needed to stay sharp as desperately as he wanted to be numb.

High Commander Zyrf was determined to have his rank reduced. When Erybet and Tox had spoken that afternoon, his lover had tried to play off their superior's interview as inconsequential. Despite Tox's efforts, Erybet could tell Zyrf had dug hard to find some reason to bust him down. It was probably the reason Tox hadn't shown up to fuck.

"Assholes," he told his drink before gulping half its contents. "It never fucking ends."

The funny thing was, he adored the world inhabited by mostly Nobeks. Even the training camp he'd been sent to when he'd been mistakenly categorized as a member of the warrior breed had been a thrill, as harsh as it had been. If his Dramok characteristics hadn't come to the fore, making him so domineering the other boys had beaten him severely, he'd have been perfectly happy to remain under the Nobek banner.

The beating, which had happened just shy of a year after he'd started training camp, had led to his parents demanding he be re-tested. It turned out his instructors had already been documenting their suspicions in hopes of lobbying for a second evaluation. No one was surprised when Erybet was determined, beyond a shadow of a doubt, to be fully Dramok.

He'd fought against being taken home. He'd disregarded the trauma he'd suffered. He loved the active world of the Nobeks, the constant demands he prove himself worthy of being a warrior and protector. The harder the task, the better he liked it.

His campaign to remain in camp was impressive for a six-year-old. "He'll go far, wherever he ends up," an instructor had said in admiration. It hadn't been enough for Erybet to stay among those who would have tested him to the fullest extent.

His parents had been concerned the trials of a Nobek camp had somehow damaged him beyond the physical bruises. They'd sent him to counseling. At first, young Erybet had seen the therapist Dr. Thyra as part of the conspiracy to keep him from where he wanted to be. In a few short weeks, he'd come to adore the Imdiko psychologist who listened to him with endless patience, care, and warmth.

Conyod reminds me of Thyra.Erybet blinked at the realization. No wonder he was so taken by the young man.

He swallowed the rest of his dlas. It was losing Conyod rather than Zyrf's breedist machinations keeping him from sleep. Erybet was stunned at how much it hurt. Had he fallen so hard and so quickly? It seemed he had.

But Conyod was gone because he preferred Sletran to Erybet.

"What's so great about him? Yeah, he's one of my best, if not the best of my soldiers, but as a potential clanmate? What makes him a greater catch than me?" Erybet asked his empty glass.

Sletran had struck him as standard-issue Nobek. Strong, proud, dedicated to a job where he could bust heads on a regular basis. Impressive in bed, sure, but where was he outstanding as far as a relationship was concerned? He was stoic where Tox was passionate. Sletran was predictable. Tox was spontaneous…sometimes too much so, which was why Erybet grew irritated him every few months and their relationship cooled until lust woke anew. But Tox was exciting. Sletran wasn't precisely boring, but there was such a thing as being too sure of a man.

Wasn't there?