Grumbling, he agrees that Rose’s kwasa cakes are superior. Plus, I think the blow job helped soften him to the idea.
“Nice to see you two,” Rose says when she answers the door, using the voice of a passive-aggressive Earth-mom who you haven’t called lately. Oljin frowns at us when we join the table, moving his steaming pot of nomo to the opposite side where Lyro can’t reach. But at least he doesn’t kick us out.
After some chit-chat and breakfast, I finally work up the nerve to ask the thing that’s been weighing on me. “Do you think the general would let me send a message to my sister?”
“Of course he will, sweetheart!” Rose says graciously, but then Oljin clears his throat. She quickly amends, “It’s a little complicated because of the political tension, but I don’t see why he wouldn’t grant it eventually.”
“Eventually,” Lyro repeats sardonically.Uh-oh, I know exactly where he’s going with this. “After the Hatching, perhaps?”
“Right! Exactly!” Rose beams, falling right into his trap.
“She doesn’t mean it like that,” I remind him. “She means it won’t be long. The Hatching is getting so close now.” The babies’ tails have almost disappeared, so now they look less tadpole and more frog, and their movements are restricted because they’re occupying more space inside the eggs.
Rose frowns, her forehead creased in confusion. “What did he think I meant?”
“He thinks we are keeping her captive,” Oljin remarks before I can formulate a less offensive answer. It’s the first thing he’s said since we sat down at the table.
“Aren’t you?” Lyro shoots back, sounding a little too spicy. Oljin might’ve made an error by withholding that morning cup of calm-down juice. “Who took her from her home? Who holds her freedom in their fist now?”
The older Irran snorts. “You only balk because you want to keep her captive yourself.”
“You’re wrong,” Lyro snaps, his pigment bursting to the surface in a flame of colors before he suppresses them beneath his cloak-dark camouflage. “I don’t hold her against her will. That’s why I keep her begging for it. Isn’t that right, Alara? I had you begging for me on your knees this morning, didn’t I?”
Oh my God. My face is on fire. I can’t look at Rose in the eye. “Ummm...I don’t feel like anyone is keeping me captive.”
Thankfully, Oljin saves my ass. “Your mate has never been held against her will. She could have gone back to her planet, and she chose not to. She volunteered. ShebeggedHarl to be here.”
Oh. Never mind. He’s definitelynottrying to calm Lyro down.
“I did not,” I quickly interject, just as Lyro says, “I’m going to kill him.”
“Don’t tease the poor guy like that,” Rose rebukes her husband, who’s literally grinning at Lyro’s absolute fury.
“If my nephew doesn’t want me to mock his tenuous grip on reality, he should solidify his mate bond. Bite her and be done with it, greenling, so you don’t drive yourself permanently insane with this nonsense.”
My mouth falls open. “Can that happen if he keeps putting it off?”
Oljin shrugs. “No one was ever stupid enough to try.”
I bristle at the characterization. Lyro’s not dumb. He’storn upby his decision. But it’s not my place to reveal exactly why he’s so cautious. His story is his to tell. “He has good reasons for what he’s doing.”
“If not stupidity, then cowardice.” Oljin raises his brow, daring Lyro to argue. To my surprise, he doesn’t.
“You’re right,” he says heavily, leaning his elbows on the table. “A little bit of both. Maybe some stubbornness, too. I thought I would taste a little less agony if I didn’t solidify the bond, but it’s only a different flavor. I understand why you’d sacrifice anything for your Alara, now. It is so obvious, I feel stupid for not admitting it sooner. I would do the same for mine.”
Rose’s mouth drops open at his admission, but Oljin sits back in his chair, subtle blue amusement playing over his face. I squeeze Lyro’s thigh under the table, not that his quads have any give. He’s so strong, inside and out. I think only the strongest people can admit when they’re wrong.
Oljin pours a second cup of nomo and pushes it over to Lyro. “I was in error, too. You’re not like Chanísh.”
“You were fair in your first assessment. I am in many ways,” Lyro says between clenched teeth. He lifts the nomo in a gestureof gratitude and sips it. “I’m stubborn and selfish and vengeful. I’m spend more time cursing the goddess than praising her.”
“True. And you certainly inherited his lack of humor,” Oljin mutters, shaking his head. “But in one important way you are not like him at all. My brother never learned from his mistakes. You seem to.”
“Perhaps because I have made so many.”
Rose chuckles. “See, Ollie, he does have a sense of humor.”
“I wasn’t joking,” Lyro grumbles, but his ears are blue, letting us all know that he was. I lean toward him and kiss his bicep, the closest part I can reach, and Lyro slides his arm around me.
