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The crying has stopped. Only a couple tears escaped.
“Good,” she says, lips tightening.
“Go ahead and get more sleep,” I say. “I’m sorry again for waking you.”
I keep my eyes on the door as I leave, knowing that one glance back could pull me to her.
“Wait,” she calls.
I turn, carefully tempering my expectations.
“Out of curiosity, was it the crying that changed your mind?”
My brows furrow.
“No,” I say. “I don’t like the crying, I’ll admit that. I’d do anything to put an end to that. But if this is a matter of your distaste for violence, I suppose I’ll have to grow to understand that. I won’t burden you with it if it hurts you.”
“I know you’re a warrior,” she says. “I’m not asking you to change that, and I don’t want you to hide that side of you from me. Please don’t keep things from me, even if it’s violent. If it affects me, I need to know, and we need to discuss it—”
“You don’t know what you’re asking when you say that. I’m not the average warrior.” If it were only violence that affects her, I suppose it wouldn’t be difficult. But if she wants me to be open with my darker parts, she will soon turn away in disgust if she prefers solving problems with peace.
“I might be sensitive, but that doesn’t make me any less strong.” She sets her shoulders as if I’d argue with that statement.
“I never said you were weak,” I say.
“Don’t make the mistake of thinking my tears mean I’m a pushover,” she threatens.
“I won’t,” I promise her. “May the spirit guide your dreams, little flame.”
I leave, knowing that she needs more space from me. I’m not sure how to cope with these bouts of crying in the future. When her eyes are wet like that, I want to find someone to hold responsible. But if it’s me that’s responsible, I think I would throw myself into the fuel generator cell to cheer her up. If she wanted me to put down my weapons and never fight another day, a glance at her eyes sparkling with tears would be enough to convince me. That’s why the mating call is more dangerous than any warrior with a blade. It has the power to bring any male to their knees. I must tread carefully because I’m not sure we can afford to play by her rules.
CHAPTERTWELVE
KAYE
Ruka givesme a tour of the ship, although there’s not much to see. It’s a fraction of the size ofThe Primordial Avenger, equipped for speed and stealth. The deck is so small, we only pop our heads up to take a look. It’s the size of a standard car garage on Earth. Kalla’s personal craft is parked up there, along with a few airbikes and a small armory collection. The bridge, the cargo hold below, and four bunk rooms are all the space I must adjust to, and it’s a straightforward layout that prevents any chance of getting lost.
Without revealing the nitty gritty, Ruka explains to me that their team is headed for Alliance territory with the intention of “collecting intel.” She can’t tell me much more, and I don’t care to know anything I’m not meant to. It sounds like they’re spies for the king, but they haven’t worked together like this before. I already knew Kira from Captain Rossa’s crew, a quiet type that acts as Rossa’s genius for all manner of things. He’s brilliant enough to have transformed a decommissioned kill-bot into a sentient cyborg, so I can see why he would catch the king’s attention. Ruka and Viro are typically members of the king’s guard, assigned here along with Kalla to be the muscle of the team.
“Kalla has his own contacts and tricks,” Ruka says with a shrug. “But they’re a mystery even to me. He’s the type to disappear without an explanation and show up with the answer you’ve been searching for.”
“He told me he’s the finest killer in the galaxy,” I tell her.
She laughs. “And so modest! Some would agree with that. Plenty warriors are excellent at killing, of course. But I’d say his more impressive skill is how slippery he is. Never gets caught, that’s the magic. Seeing as many of our captains have fought battles with heavy artillery and fighter ships, he certainly doesn’t have the highest body count in the fleet. What he has is an uncanny ability to kill those that don’t wish to be found. Important people, understand? Not amid space, but on planets or stations. Those deaths are harder to carry out.”
She’s still snorting, muttering, “Finest killer in the galaxy… eheheheh… I’ll have to tell Viro that one.”
“What do you think of him?” I ask her. “You seem to know him pretty well.”
“What do I think of him?” The question throws her off. “In what way?”
“Is he a good person? Would he be a good… mate?”
Ruka cocks her head. “You’re asking a human question, I suppose. To be a good mate is subjective, you know? Should I remind you that we don’t choose our mates? The best mate is the one the spirit finds for you. But if you’re asking if I think he is a decent warrior—”
“No, I know he’s good at being a warrior. I mean, is he kind? Would he be a good father, take care of someone who needed him?”
She frowns. “You’re worried about being paired with him? Do you think he won’t make you happy?”
