Confused, I lean over and glance at his other side.
“What? Did you forget where my wound is?” he jokes.
The joke falls flat as I pull the bandage down further and stare at the nearly healed line of pink, raised skin. “No, it’s just…” I tilt my head, not sure how to verbalize my confusion. “It just healed a lot faster than it should’ve.”
“That’s a good thing, right?”
“Well, yeah… But why?” What I’m looking at is not the same injury I stitched up yesterday. This wound is nearly closed, and most of the discoloration and bruising are gone.
“What do you mean, ‘why’?” he asks.
“Why did it heal so fast? It looks like this happened over a week ago, not yesterday.” I glance up at him. “Is that normal for you?”
He reaches down and pulls back the bandage himself before grunting in surprise. “I thought you were exaggerating.” He looks slightly rattled as he says, “Maybe it is the Zhyrrak?”
“Can it do that?”
He rests his head against the wall and looks up at the ceiling. “I do not know, but the moment we get to our ship, I will be searching for a reference manual.”
I rest my full weight on his thigh while examining his face. “You’re really just as confused about this bond stuff as I am, aren’t you?”
“I was told two very different versions of what Zhyrrak bonds are, and neither version matches up with reality.” He gives my thigh a comforting squeeze. “I wish I had more answers for you.”
“What are the two versions?” I ask.
“One of the stories said the bond made warriors more obedient, more deadly, and gave them superior control over theiremotions.” His mouth pinches before he continues. “The other story said that the warrior’s power was rooted in love and the need to protect their mate. There are similarities between the versions, but neither makes much sense now, and neither mentioned…” He trails off, shaking his head with a troubled look in his eyes.
The first version sounds like propaganda to me, but I keep that thought to myself and smooth the bandage back in place. The contradicting versions of the Zhyrrak aren’t really important right now, and if we make it out of here, there will be plenty of time to unpack all the bullshit he’s been told.
Fucking empires.
“Well, Zhyrrak or not, you’re going to have a nasty scar,” I say lightly.
He laughs and looks at me like I’ve just said the most absurd thing he’s ever heard.
I wait for an explanation, but he doesn’t offer one. “Alright, I’ll admit, I missed the joke. So are you gonna clue me in, or …?”
“It is just funny that you are so concerned about adding a new scar to my collection.” He gently cups my cheek. “I will be glad to look at this one; it is a far better memory than the rest.”
My eyes flick to the scar that runs the length of his neck, the one he keeps absentmindedly touching, and his face tightens. It’s clear he isn’t ready to talk about those yet, and I get the feeling their origin is darker than I’d originally thought.
“What’s the new one a reminder of?” I ask, trying to keep the conversation light.
“The day I met you.”
He strokes my cheeks with his thumbs, and all of the sudden, my mouth is on his. The hunger in our kiss is unmistakable, and the last clear thought I have is,Trust him.
26
I OBEY
VEXAR
GRATITUDE BECOMES MY entire existence as I focus on the taste of Amara’s mouth and the rhythm of her tongue. She does not hate me. After everything, she still does not hate me. I do not understand why, but I have never been more grateful for the opportunity to prove myself.
Her fingers grip my neck, thighs tighten around my leg, and I can feel the heat of her desire.
Gods, I want to hear her moan.
