How embarrassing.
He hoped Callie didn’t find out about this.
The thought jolted him. He looked up at Som’ae with dawning horror. “What are you doing here? How long was I under? What time is it?”
Som’ae smiled at him, enjoying this entirely too much. “It’s nearly time for the Assembly. If you hurry, you can get dressed in time to beat your Callie to her room.”
She had said that last part too slyly.
He narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean ‘beat her to her room’? She should have already been in her room!”
Som’ae clicked her teeth, her eyes turning devious. “Ah, but the twins decided she needed a distraction…”
Rathal groaned, burying his face in his hands. “They didn’t.”
Som’ae’s small claws clapped together as her musical laughter mocked him.
He was going to choke those two meddling cousins of his until they lost consciousness. And then he was going to shave their manes!
“How bad was it?” he asked, bracing for the worst.
“Soreel challenged Callie to the Pit. Now, now. Stop growling. Your human won! She beat Soreel’s hide bloody and brought you much honor. You should reward her. Perhaps with something carnal that will set your mating in stone, hmmm? I have the wedding contracts drawn up and waiting. Stop stalling.”
He got to his feet in outrage. Not at his Callie winning a fight in the Pit. That made him want to crow from the rooftops and bend her over the railing so the whole godsdamned station could hear her scream, but that Som’ae thoughthewas the one stalling.
“I’m not the one—you know what,” he said, holding his hands up, “I don’t have time for this. I have to get dressed.”
He turned away from his friends' laughter and stalked into his rooms, muttering under his breath.
“Females. They will be the death of me.”
He made a mental note to get oaths of secrecy from his security team. Callie didn’t need to know about this little lapse. It would give her too much ammunition and she had quite enough already.
eighteen
Callie
Thetwinshadtakenme out to celebrate until the warning alarm for the impending Light had sounded. I was exhausted, hungry, and my body felt like someone had thrown me into a dryer and pressed spin, but holy shit did I feel good. I waved a goodbye to the giggling foursome as they stumbled their way back down the hall to their own homes and blew out a breath in the safety of my room
My dinner was waiting for me in my room on covered trays on a little round table someone had placed in the corner. It matched the overly pink feminine theme of the room, with a frilly powder pink table cloth and a plushly cushioned pink chair pulled out invitingly as if to tempt me to sit and relax.
Uh oh.
In the center of the table, placed in an impossible to miss garish ice bucket like some kind of neon sign mocking me, was the bottle of wine used to drug Rathal. I winced, sighing to myself and took a seat. I was hungry, but my stomach churnedfrom the emotional acrobats of the day… er night. Darking. Whatever.
I pushed the wine out of the way with a glare and drew the covered tray to me, lifting the lid and eyeballing the food like it might come alive and bite me. There were thinly sliced sheets of colorful meats arranged to look like flowers on the plate, with an accompaniment of vegetables steamed and cut to be the stalks and leaves of the food bouquet. Little fried desserts were displayed prettily on a side plate and a silver teapot and cup were steaming next to the dessert plate.
I picked up the delicate fork and dug in, closing my eyes at the vibrant flavors of each bite, and stewed. Just what the hell was I even doing? Was I being ridiculous? Or was this gaslighting at its finest because I kinda felt like everyone thought I was crazy for resisting Rathal and he was being the most patient, kind suitor in the universe. I mean, I could say the twins were biased because they worked for Rathal. Why the hell would I listen to a word they said? But on the other hand… god, Iwasnuts.
The good vibes from the fight evaporated.
I tossed the fork down and buried my face in my hands and groaned. Just… crazy right? This wasn’tnormal.I wasn’t having a normal reaction to this whole situation at all. He wasn’t that hot, alright. He was a goddamned jackal headedalien!He didnothave enough aura to have me all fucked up like this. Did he? Was this amount of clashing emotions really the result of that arrogant prick’s sexual magnetism or was I just weak?
The words he used to taunt me floated through my mind like a bad haunting.
I hadn’t hesitated, dammit. I’d been covering my tracks. Covering all my bases. My thought process was that if he was fucking dead he couldn’t follow me. I feel like that wasn’t the actions of a woman who was just playing a game of come and get me.
Right?
