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“I SAID ENOUGH!” Jaek yelled.
My jaw dropped, and I stared at him in disbelief as he bunched his muscles and advanced on Vintor. Jaek had always been the gentle and controlled one. Although a little smaller in height and muscle mass than the other hybrids, right this instant, he was properly intimidating. In my earpiece, I could hear the muffled sound of Keran cursing. Prior to leaving on this mission, we had agreed to keep communications to a minimum to reduce the chances of the signal getting captured.
“Dawn isn’t property. She doesn’t need anyone’s permission to make her choice. Right now, you sound just like the purebloods who abused us. Get over yourself. She doesn’t want you,” Jaek ground through his teeth, earning himself approving nods from the other hybrids.
“Oryou,” Vintor snapped, needing to have the final word even though Jaek’s word had cut him deep.
“Or me,” Jaek conceded in a much calmer voice laced with resignation. “But that’s stillherchoice. And we all have to respect it.”
Vintor huffed. “Respect? I have none to give to this,” he said, making a disdainful gesture at me.
“Enough!” Nirkon said in a loud enough voice to be heard by all. “While I’m sure her sex life is of interest to many of you, it’s not to me. You weren’t invited here to fight over a female. Finish your drinks and take a seat. The meeting is about to start.”
With an irritated grunt, Vintor turned to the table. Humiliation burned my cheeks as I fought the urge to punch him in the throat. As he didn’t have a glass, he picked one up, filled it to the brim, and guzzled it down in one go. He slammed the empty glass back onto the table with enough force that I’d expected it to shatter. Thankfully, it didn’t—although it would have served him right if it had. He then stormed off to one of the seats in the front.
The others emptied their glasses as well, placing them neatly on the table before proceeding in an orderly fashion to find a place. Those who walked past me either averted their eyes or cast an apologetic look my way.
“Thank you,” I said to Jaek, holding my half-full glass pressed to my chest like a shield.
My heart broke at the sad and betrayed look he gave me. “Is that why you were trying to reach me? To let me know of your choice?”
I swallowed hard and gave him a sharp nod, guilt gnawing at me. “I never meant for you to find out like this.”
He stared at me for a moment longer, the deep sorrow in his eyes cutting me like a thousand knives.
“It should have beenmyscent on you.Mine…”
Without another word, Jaek headed to one of the seats. My shoulders drooped, and I heaved a sigh. This couldn’t have gone worse. I gulped down the contents of my own glass, wishing it was something much stronger instead, then placed it on the table.
Finding a spot to sit was a whole new level of awkward. Under normal circumstances, the men would be falling all over themselves to give me their spot. But right this instant, they were all clearly hoping I’d select a seat not too close to them. You’d think I had the plague.
With most of the seats already taken, I had no choice but to head towards the front. I settled at the left edge of the third row, leaving a two-meter gap between my neighbor and me.
For the first time in my life, I felt extremely self-conscious about being the only female among them. Although it didn’t surprise me, I had hoped a few of the others would have invited some of our women—not that any of our females would ever return to Braxia.
A part of me wanted to just walk out of here and run straight into Keran’s arms. If not for this mission being a matter of life or death, I probably would have just bounced. But one of the side doors opening wiped away any thought of leaving.
“No way!” I whispered, my eyes all but popping out of my head at the sight of the three males who entered the room first.
I had expected more Guldans. Instead, their dusky blue skin, the dozen small horns protruding from their heads like a circular crown, and their breathtaking faces gave them away as Sarenians.
What the fuck are Sarenians doing here?!
And collaborating with Guldans at that? From what Keran had told me, Prince Zerien—the future Sarenian Emperor—wanted nothing to do with the Guldans. It was all the more ironic that his fiancée was a pureblood Guldan herself.
Jardan said Zerien was reputed to be sadistic and ruthless. Had he turned on his alliance with Braxia?
I made sure to aim my camera at the Sarenians as they made their way onto the stage. To my surprise, Nirkon and the other Guldan remained at the bottom of the dais, making it clear they weren’t the ones in charge.
The three Sarenians spread themselves evenly on the stage. As soon as they had taken position, a close-up image of their faces appeared on the giant screen closest to each of them. I was sitting close enough to appreciate their natural beauty. But seeing them even more in detail on those screens took my breath away.
While each of them was lean and muscular, Sarenians were slender and lithe like gymnasts, unlike the Braxians who were more like heavyweight bodybuilders. As was common with their species, they had straight, long hair, in various shades of blue, from very light to midnight blue. Occasionally, some of them would be born with black or silver-white hair, but never any other shade.
The Sarenian in the middle, apparently the leader, had raven hair to the middle of his back, which contrasted sharply with his icy blue eyes. Unlike the other two Sarenians, this one had almost wing-like appendages dangling on his back. Even though he barely looked more than twenty-five, those appendages meant he was at least fifty years old. Once a Sarenian reached that age—which was deemed their biological maturity, they grew what they actually referred to as fins. As amphibian creatures, those fins helped them swim faster underwater, but also allowed them to glide in the sky over varying distances as they rode the air currents.
They were dressed in traditional Sarenian garbs consisting of a long, ornate skirt and a sleeveless, skin-tight top, with a deep V-shaped collar that gave an enticing glimpse of their muscular chests. While their people usually wore lighter, pastel colors, these three males were all clad in black.
Three small disks rose from the floor to float right below the three Sarenians’ chins—hover microphones. But it was only the male in the middle who addressed us.
