He peels back his lips to show his bloodied teeth. Low, just for my ears, he says, “Maybe not now. But Iwill.”
Chapter 4
Lyro
Ihave an Alara. What a cruel joke the goddess plays on me.
I came here to cut every string that tugs at me, only to be bound by the strongest one of all. When Alioth smiles, her teeth are sharp. What did I do to deserve this?
“I need to pray,” I announce, rising to my feet.
“Can’t you just...do it?” The pale little terrakin, myqueen, scrambles up from her knees, sending a wave of her addictive scent toward me. She is queen of nothing. I have no planet, no people, nothing to rule.
I ignore her, turning instead to my uncle, the one we all thought was dead. His face is lined, his expression grave. “Where is your altar?” I ask.
“Ollie, he looks just like you!” the female clinging to his side gasps. Shock ripples through me when I realize that she, too, is terrakin. She wears an older style of sveli so I hadn’t registered her as anything other than Irran. A gold crown is embedded in her forehead, marking her as a rightful Alara.
That explains why my father never found a queen. The rumors are true—his older brother Oljin had already found his before he disappeared. That madehimthe rightful king, even when he was in hiding. But the rumors never mentioned that she wasn’t of our species. Perhaps our whole line is cursed with these terrakin mates.
“Rose and I do not keep an altar,” my uncle says stiffly. He’s a very bad liar. He doesn’t trust me inside his dwelling. Does he think I might steal from him? It’s clear from his wrinkled old clothes that he has nothing.
“We can set one up in our room,” my mate offers, drawing my attention. Her hair is pulled back into a long, pale rope that makes me want to wrap it around my fist and jerk her forward, the same way her scent drags me toward her.
“Ourroom?” I ask icily.
“My room.” She gives an apologetic shrug, her shame-drenched skin flushing pink. “I thought you’d want to share it.”
“Perhaps you shouldn’t.”
“Share with you?”
“Think.”
Shelaughs, her head falling back, exposing the tender stem of her throat. It would be so easy to end her, to wrap my fingers around her windpipe and squeeze the laughter right out. But my bird is too damaged to fly, and there are an increasing number of Frathik eyes fixed on me as more of their bumbling guards appear. There’s no way I can escape unscathed. Even my uncle looks like he wants to kill me.
“What will be done with my ship?” I direct my question to the one with the most tools hanging from his orange belt.
“Normally, I’d scrap it and use the parts, but...” His head tilts toward Oljin, questioning. Apparently, my uncle does have some power here.
“Can it be repaired, Unnu?” Oljin asks another Frathik.
Unnu, the ugly one who bagged me up and threw me over his shoulder, nods and shrugs in one movement. “Anything can be fixed if you have enough time. I don’t.”
As though I’d let him touch my bird. “I’ll fix it myself if you provide the tools and the space.”
“I don’t want him in my workshop,” Unnu says gruffly. “He’s a vicious little smooth-face. Threatened my life at least a dozen times already, and he bit a chunk out of my shoulder while I was bagging him.”
“Tasted like the braxa dung you are,” I can’t help adding, the coppery taste of my own blood pooling on my tongue. I spit it on the floor and wipe my mouth with the back of my hand.
“Little shit,” Unnu shoots back. “I saved your life with that breather bag and paid for it with my own hide. No way I’m going to give you access to my tools and then trust you not to murder me with them when my back is turned.”
“You’re smarter than you look. Save both of us some time and let me kill you right now,” I suggest.
My brainless little mate giggles again, like I’ve told another joke. “Let’s postpone any murdering until after I give you a tour.”
She moves to lead me down one of the passages that branch from the control room but stops when the Frathik leader, a general judging by his uniform, rumbles his disapproval. “The Irran cannot have free access to our base. We’ll secure him in a holding cell until we decide what to do with him.”
He motions to his minions to take me into custody, although none of them are eager to oblige once I snap my teeth at them. I must have made an excellent first impression.
