But Deklyn’s presence steadied me, his solid warmth at my side reminding me I wasn’t that frightened child anymore. I was a grown woman who’d survived months in an alien prison, who’d orchestrated an elaborate plan to expose traitors, and who’d found the courage to trust someone with her heart.
“I’m afraid I have to apologize for stealing Sasha,” Deklyn said to my father, his voice polite but edged with steel. “But we have a wedding appointment to keep.”
Serge pulled out his tablet and began scrolling through the schedule, muttering under his breath. “I don’t remember scheduling another appointment...”
Reina smoothly placed her hand over Serge’s mouth before he could continue. “I remember the appointment. You’d better hurry or you’ll be late.”
The camera crew made moves to follow us, but Reina put an arm out to stop them. “No, you’re still with us. Serge has behind-the-scenes planning secrets to show you.”
“I do?” Serge asked and then recovered quickly, the idea of having all cameras on him clearly thrilling. “Yes, I do!”
My father’s face reddened slightly, but his gaze flicked to the still-rolling cameras, and he seemed to remember where he was. “Then we’ll catch up later.”
I nodded quickly, not trusting myself to speak. Deklyn began leading me away from the confrontation, his hand steady and sure in mine.
I glanced back to give Ariana an apologetic look. I hated leaving her to deal with our father alone, but I could see Reina and Volten moving to flank her supportively.
“Thank you,” I whispered to Deklyn as we walked away, my voice barely audible over the pounding of my heart.
For the first time since seeing my father step off that inclinator, I felt like I could breathe again. Deklyn’s presence at my side was an anchor in the storm of old fears and insecurities that my father’s arrival had unleashed.
“What are fiancés for, sweetheart?” he whispered back, and the casual endearment made something warm and safe bloom in my chest.
Chapter
Thirty-Eight
Ariana
Iwatched Sasha and Deklyn disappear around the corner of the cobblestone walkway, my heart still racing from the tension of that brief but loaded encounter with our father. The way Deklyn had appeared at exactly the right moment, and the smooth way he’d extracted Sasha from what was clearly becoming an uncomfortable confrontation made me think that I’d been wrong to doubt them. Not to mention the way she’d leaned into him and the obvious affection in her gaze when he’d taken her hand. That wasn’t acting.
Maybe this whirlwind engagement wasn’t some impulsive mistake born of trauma and proximity. Maybe they’d actually found something genuine in the aftermath of their shared ordeal. The thought had barely formed when a firm grip on my elbow pulled my attention back to the present.
“We need to talk,” my father said, his voice pitched low but carrying the unmistakable note of command that had shaped my entire childhood.
He steered me away from Serge and Reina, away from the lingering camera crew, and toward a quieter section of the Promenade where the shops gave way to decorative alcoves filled with tall palms and exotic plants. The artificial breeze stirred the leaves overhead, but I barely noticed.
I looked up at the man I’d feared and revered my entire life, and the man whose approval I’d spent decades trying to earn. His eyes were still cold, and his jaw remained in its usual rigid line.
“Your sister is out of control,” he said without preamble.
I blinked up at him, genuinely confused. After everything Sasha had been through, after months of captivity, torture, and isolation in an alien prison, his primary concern was her behavior?
“I think she’s doing great, all things considered,” I said carefully, putting emphasis on the last three words.
His expression darkened. “What do you mean by that?”
“I mean she was held prisoner by hostile aliens for months, Dad. She’s been through trauma most people can’t even imagine. The fact that she’s functioning at all, let alone planning a wedding and appearing in public, seems pretty remarkable to me.”
He waved a dismissive hand, as if her suffering was irrelevant to his point. “Before she got entangled with these aliens, Sasha never would have made such a major decision without getting my approval first. Marriage, especially to an alien, is not something to rush into.”
I didn’t like the way he said “aliens” or the subtle curl of his lip. I didn’t like the tone, which suggested he was discussingsomething distasteful rather than the beings who had saved his daughter’s life.
I squared my shoulders. “Why are you here if you disapprove so strongly?”
A muscle ticked in his jaw. “I had no choice. It would have looked bad if I had stayed away from my daughter’s wedding, regardless of my personal feelings about the situation. Or my opinion of the Drexians.”
The casual admission sent a chill through me. For the first time, I was really seeing my father clearly, but not as the imposing military hero I’d always imagined him to be, but as a small, threatened man who resented anything that challenged his influence and power.
