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Annoyed.
“So you do have something to say to me,” I challenge, crossing my arms. I’ve barely spoken with the man since the tragedy on Triton; he’s been so wrapped up in Prince Nereus that he hasn’t seemed interested in doing much but pleasuring the Merati prince and avoiding the rest of us. “What is this about?”
“Why you?”
My eyes narrow. “I don’t know what you’re referring to.”
Kye stands, and I find that he’s taller than I remember—or maybe he’s just holding his shoulders straight for the first time. He’s nearly eye-level with me, though he’s slender and lanky. “Why did she run off with you instead of me?” he says. “I don’t get it. Help me understand.”
I should hit him; if I plunged my fist into his jaw, would Fiona be angry? Would Nereus forgive me?
But I don’t.
“Perhaps because she knew that you didn’t trust her,” I say. “And you never will.”
And I turn to leave the room, Kye still standing there with a glare on his face.
CHAPTER SIX
TALN
The future queen of Homeworld is curled in my embrace.
She’s too small for such a title; delicate, breakable, vulnerable. Fiona pretends to sleep, but I know better, listening to the sound of her staggered, halting breathing in the darkness of my room on the Wrath of Triton.
She’s having another panic attack, something she seems to do only around me. I cannot say that I understand this human response to crises. Fiona tells me that sometimes her mind gets the better of her, and she can’t level herself, can’t calm down. And I ask what I can do, but all she wants is to be held, or for me to kiss her worries away.
There was a time when I could have protected her, whenIwas her shield.
Now, I don’t know what I am.
Her soft breaths puff against my bare chest, and she tilts her head up to look at me, her hazel eyes luminous in the dark. Her pink lips part and her hand splays against my flesh, her fingers curling just enough that her nails bite into my skin.
“Nightmares?” I ask quietly.
“Every night,” she replies.
These are the only times she comes to me, and I allow her to do so without showing a hint of jealousy. Most nights, she spends with Nereus, Ryker, or sometimes Orion. When she climbs into my bed, it’s because she needs comfort, support. She’s more than satisfied with the offerings of my comrades in terms of pleasure.
Perhaps I’m still somewhat of a shield after all. And I’m not jealous—because I have a piece of her that no one else has.
Her vulnerability.
I can be her safe harbor.
“Talk to me,” I murmur.
“I’m so afraid I’m going to lose you all,” she says. “Just…dragging you into danger over and over again. And in this nightmare I saw you bleeding out on the floor of the Spectre, and Orion out of his mind again…what if Lamia manages to brainwash one of you and…”
It’s still a concern, of course. After seeing what happened to Orion—and the painful ritual we had to carry out to ensure his recovery—I don’t want any of us left open to Lamia’s psychic attacks.
“Something to considerafterwe’ve dealt with the Hyperboreans,” I tell her. “If they refuse to make us any promises regarding staying out of the war, then we can reconsider the Elixir Ceremony. Otherwise…we may not even have to take on Lamia. We can do this on our own time.”
“But Kye might still say no,” she says. “And I could lose him. Maybe I already have.”
“Fiona,” I murmur, tilting her chin up to look me in the eye. That always seems to ground her, bringing her back to bed with me. “Right now, you are safe. Right now, you are with me.”
“I know,” she says. “But I’m scared.”
