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Viro clears his throat, keeping his hands neatly behind his back. “And I’m sorry I flirted with you.”
“It’s alright,” I sigh. “You barely had a chance to flirt with me. He didn’t need to be so aggressive.”
He shrugs. “He’s newly mated. We tend to give some grace to males that are so hormonal. Besides, I have a reputation, and he knows about it.”
Ruka grins. “He’s a slut.” Then she elbows him playfully, but it hits him hard enough to make him double over. “Don’t be a baby.”
“I don’t see any sign of the boy you were searching for on the logs from other ships,” Viro reports, rubbing the place where Ruka hit him. “But it seems like someone already flagged the issue in our systems, so his sister knows that his whereabouts are unaccounted for right now. Problem is that the fleet won’t be turning around, and we have no way of connecting withThe Rightful Heir. He might still be on the ship, which I’m sure we’d all agree is the best-case scenario.”
“I hope so,” I say. “Thank you for checking on that. I’ll be able to talk to Rossa at some point, then?”
“Yes, that should be possible. Every comm line is in use at the moment. It’s a bit chaotic in there, but when things calm down, we can hail her ship.”
“And what is Kalla doing now?” I ask.
Viro and Ruka exchange a glance.
“Arguing with the king,” Viro says.
“About… me?”
He throws me a charming smile. “He’ll be busy for hours. Once those two get going, they’ll argue until their faces shrivel up from lack of oxygen.”
“This is ridiculous. They’re in there deciding my fate while I’m standing right here?” I make a move toward the bridge entrance, but Ruka catches my arm.
“I understand your frustration, but you can’t go in there right now. Not only are you not authorized for it, but your presence will only send Kalla into a tailspin. Mak can be persuasive, even with that lunatic. It might go better than you think.”
“Typical men being overbearing idiots,” I say hotly. “The last thing I need is another loveless marriage, especially not one I never agreed to. So if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to put my two cents in this conversation—”
Viro and Ruka grab me both at once, eyes bulging cartoonishly.
“Marriage?” Viro demands. “That’s a human matebond, isn’t it?”
“Please tell me you didn’t say that.” Ruka gasps.
My bewildered silence says enough. I can’t deny it now.
“Another?” Ruka frowns. “You don’t have a mate among your own people, do you?”
“Is that a problem?”
“That depends,” Viro says. “Do you like your human mate?”
“Not particularly. We’re divorced. That means the marriage was ended.”
They let go of me, and I glance anxiously over my shoulder at the bridge door. As much as I’d like to barge in, they have a good point about inserting myself into a conversation with the king. I’ve never actually met him, so I might be out of my depth. I feel sick thinking about how foolish my bluff was. If Kalla is on a personal call basis with his royal highness, then my statements about him begging forgiveness must’ve sounded so stupid.
Ruka blows out a breath. “That’s a relief.”
Viro nods, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “They just might survive this then…”
“What?”
Ruka hooks my elbow with hers to lead me toward one of the hallway doors. It swipes open for us, revealing a bedroom inside. This must be a small ship if the bunks are a stone’s throw from the bridge entry.
“Am I to simply accept this, then?” I ask, my voice hollow with exhaustion. Before all this insanity, I was running as fast as I could searching for Raffa. It’s starting to hit me. The adrenaline that rocketed through my system when Kalla picked me up is waning. I was trying to guilt my so-called mate by asking about my prison, but as I cast a resigned glance around the room, I realize thiswillbe my prison.
It’s not as cold and uncomfortable as other nondescript ship bunks. This one has handwoven Kar’Kali throws, a simple but luxurious blanket, and various signs of an inhabitant— an inlaid tray with a water carafe, a pair of gloves tossed on a bedside table, a cloak hung on a hook, and a beautiful, teal-handled hairbrush with unmistakable silver hair strands trapped in the bristles.
