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Like Beau, he was quiet and thoughtful. Not in a shy way, but in the way that meant when he spoke, people stopped and listened, because it was important.
“What do I seem?” I would not ask about Beau first. It was too pathetic, too obvious, and I would not have anyone use him as a weapon against me as Crux would have, and had in the past when I had attempted to forge connections beyond him.
“His creature,” he answered, motioning after where Crux had gone. “Filled with nothing but anger and violence, waiting to do his bidding.”
The very thought made me want to cringe, but I held back. It was not untrue. “And what does Beau think?”
“That you are special,” he answered immediately. Easily. Like it cost nothing, and no one would stop him to make fun of the very notion that Vorian, son of Crux, was anything but a wild zintar, to be avoided whenever possible.
Still, I couldn’t help it when a tiny bit of pride wriggled its way to the surface of my facade. “I did win the tournament.”
His lips curled up, not in a mocking sneer, but a smile. A real one, maybe. “Beau said you would.” He turned back toward the door and motioned toward himself, as though beckoning me. Before I could even think to protest that I did not respond to summons like a domesticated pet, he bit his lip and his eyes turned concerned. “I think Beau needs... you.”
And somehow, that was all I needed to hear before I was following him down the hall like any one of the creatures Kaelum could call to his side. What in dark, frozen Zathkar was wrong with me?
CHAPTER9
BEAU
It was silly, to lock myself away in this tiny, barren room and pretend I was safe. I didn’t have control of the lock. Nothing in the room, including the beige dress I wore, actually belonged to me.
Who would have guessed I’d start missing my torn, filthy rags?
But there I was, wishing I’d thought to grab my threadbare underwear for at least the semblance of some protection. I dragged the sheets on the bed around my body, determined to cover as much of myself as I could, keep my gametes and every other part of me to myself.
Crux had already taken what he needed. There was no getting it back, no pretending I had any real control over what was happening here. But I still tried, feeling brittle and shaky, like if I didn’t wrap myself up tight, I might shatter.
I was shaking in the silence when the door slid open. I jerked back, curling even tighter into the corner of my cot before I recognized Vorian standing there, staring at me with as blank an expression as I had ever seen him wear. But it was him, and I sucked in a deep, hard breath.
Then, he took two long strides and was at my side. One of those steps was halting; his knee almost buckled. With his hands braced on the edge of my bed, he lowered himself carefully. I sat up, shifting closer to him, as the door slid shut behind him.
It was just the two of us here, and with him there between me and the door to the rest of the laboratory, I felt safer than I had since Crux had come looking for us. But he’d limped. Something was wrong.
“You’re hurt—” I wiped the tears off my cheeks and leaned toward him reaching to touch his velvety skin. His torso was bruised, deeper blue in places than usual, but his legs and any possible injuries there were hidden by his tight leather pants.
Already, he was shaking his head, covering my hands with his to still them. “My leg was broken. It has healed.”
Shit. I mean, what did I actually know about alien medicine? But that sounded like a big deal. People didn’t break their leg and shake it off, right?
“I’m so sorry,” I whispered, leaning to press my hand on top of his knee, like the warmth of my palm could melt away the hurt.
His head cocked. “It is fine now.”
He was scowling at me, a look of pure confusion on his face, like it was absurd for somebody to be worried about him after he’d broken his freaking leg. And, well, I understood that. Crux didn’t seem like the kind of guy who carried around Flintstones Band-Aids or anything. Vorian probably wasn’t used to anyone fretting over him.
“I’m real glad you’re okay,” I whispered, my voice thick with tears I was holding back as a sudden wave of desperation crashed over me.
I needed Vorian here and in one piece. He saw more of me even than the other humans. There were some things you couldn’t understand unless you’d lived them, and, well... Vorian and I might be from opposite sides of the universe, but we had a lot in common.
Still, I wished he’d won the tournament.
If Vorian had broken his leg, there was no way he could have won, but I didn’t want to make him feel like I was disappointed. It mattered more that he’d been hurt. Way more.
I just couldn’t help thinking about—about my sample. And how little control I had over my genetic material now that Crux had taken it, and how I’d been willing to give the Thorzi a baby, but I’d thought it’d be with Vorian. And now—now it could be with anyone. And—
“I was victorious.”
Vorian said it softly, his enormous blue eyes searching my face as I stared back at him, suddenly tense.
