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He leaned into her with a half smile. ‘If you touch me, I’ll crush your bird bones into pieces.’
‘Chicken shit.’
His chest rumbled with amusement at her sucked-teeth response. But when he unfurled his vast wings, she ducked away as he strolled past, her eyes shining with apprehension and disdain.
He found a spot against a column on the far side of the tent, away from prying ears and lecherous hands.
He longed to be alone, a state he much preferred most times.
When he could immerse himself in his thoughts and flow and, by Khiron’s grace, nab a few hours of rest.
Fokk, it’d been a long couple of weeks.
He was exhausted.
He contemplated the patch of dirt he was to sleep on and sighed.
Before settling in, he retrieved a pouch from the folds of his cloak.
Pinching the dried leaves into a ball, he slipped one into his mouth. The klaw injected stamina into his flagging soul, numbing thirst and hunger.
With precision, he plucked and placed his koya sab?rs in a circle around him. He activated the metanoids within them, and in seconds, they bristled with energy.
He’d every right to be cautious.
He’d a planet full of Katánians frothing to kill him.
One woman had even made the attempt.
Speaking of.
Sana’a.
His thoughts lingered on the assassin and her effort to blade him.
Fokk, how her brazenness had abraded his mind.
When she’d stalked into The BirdKage, her audacious strut had knocked the air from his lungs.
He’d had to force an enormous amount of hawkstone control even to breathe.
Then, there was her hidden beauty in plain sight.
Every atom of her body was out of this world incandescent.
Since their encounter, he’d spent the rest of his time on Eden II in flux.
He’d struggled to stay focused on his role as his mother’s best man. All the while, his soul longed to find her once more, his hawkstone crawling the ionosphere for a hint of her presence.
He recalled with glass-like clarity how her expression and passion for her cause had leant her strength, evident in the ruthless glint of her stunning silver-flecked eyes.
She was relentless, which he appreciated, as he was pushing himself with a similar, persistent drive.
She’d also more steel in her balls than many.
On the night he’d met her on Eden II, Sana’a had needled and challenged him, called him an aether sorcerer. Her doggedness had almost made him lose his shit with her.
Yet she was fokkin’ seductive.
