Soreel struggled to her feet to meet my eyes. I lifted my chin, holding her gaze steady with my own. The big spider lady’s soft, self deprecating smile almost knocked me over harder than any of her actual strikes had. My face must have telegraphed my thoughts because she chuckled. I couldn’t hear it over the noise of the crowd but I saw it.
She stepped in close. I tensed, ready to defend myself when she leaned over me, but all she did was shout next to my head.
“I have earned back my honor! It was a good fight.” She then bent until her mouth was hovering close enough to my ear that her breath warmed my skin. “Thank you, Callisto Ramirez. Give Rathal the beating he deserves."
I stared at her, slack-jawed as she gave a goodbye wave to the Pit and limped her way out.
Aliens were weird.
seventeen
Rathal
Hewasn’tsurewhatmade him angrier. That Callie denied her feelings or that he had put himself in this situation to begin with. Age did not bring patience, it would seem. If he’d just waited like a normal suitor and courted her properly, this perhaps wouldn’t have happened.
He stopped just outside his rooms, his fist striking against the hallway wall with frustrated force, wobbling the heavy pictures on either side of him.
His cock ached. His heart ached. His godsdamned head ached. They’d come so very close to consummating their union on the roof. He didn’t think Callie understood just how close they’d come. When she ran from him, it hit every instinct within him to hunt and conquer his chosen mate.
He’d had to use every civilized cell in his body to pull himself from on top of her when she’d told him to stop. He hurt down in his bones from the driving need to go back and finish what they’d started. She’d been ripe with desire. Dripping with it.Trembling on the edge of giving in and her distrust of him ruined it. Deservingly. Idiot.
Foolish.
Impatient.
Ass.
That’s what he was.
He bared his teeth at the empty hallway and snarled.
He hadn’t been this angry at himself in a very, very long time. Sexually frustrated and furious at his own foolishness were a terrible combination. It pulled at the frayed edges of his control.
That was the only excuse he'd come up with for what happened next.
He’d been deep in his whirling self-pitying thoughts when one of his security guards had walked up on him unexpectedly.
The movement of a black shiny hand that landed on his shoulder was caught just within his peripheral vision and had the unfortunate consequence of casting him out of his own mind.
Suddenly he was standing on the ruined streets of his homeworld. The smoke rising from mass graves choking the air with its horrifying scent and obscuring the hollowed husks of crumbling buildings. Plague flags snapped in the hot wind, warning all those who saw them away. But it was far too late for that. The very air was diseased. Poisoned.
Ara’Ama was in ruins.
Dead.
They were all dead.
Through the smoke, walking in a hazy line towards him, was an Orixas. The species responsible for this genocide.
Rathal acted without thought or reason.
He body hit the enemy soldier with enough force to send them both tumbling to the ground.
“Rathal!” the soldier called, holding his hands up in a calming gesture, but Rathalhated. He hated this creature with his whole being. His mother and father were dead. His Empress and her mate and children were dead. His people were dead. And it was the Unity’s fault. The A’tens family had done this. The Orixias had done this. He would kill them all one by one. He would destroy their worlds and burn their histories to the ground.
Dead.
All dead.
