I’m almost at the doors to leave the Prince’s suite entirely when I feel a huge hand curl around my upper arm, stopping me from fleeing. I try to struggle out of it but can’t. He’s saying something but I don’t want to hear it - don’t want to even look at him, and certainly don’t want to look at her. “I’m ok,” I hear myself say in an attempt to get him to let me go, even though the ache in my chest and my adrenaline-fueled heart tells me that I’m really not.
“You are not ok. You are upset,” Kiahn says and I don’t know why but it makes me whip my head round to glare at him. I don’t have any right to be upset - I really don’t. We’re not ‘a thing’, and I’m the one who barged into his rooms at God-knows what hour. And - for fuck’s sake - he’sa Prince!Of course he has women falling over themselves to keep him happy. I bet he has a different Xaviann woman in his bed every night back on his home planet and-
Wait.
Against my will, my mind re-conjures the awful scene I’d just stumbled in on.
The woman he’d been eating out had brown skin, not gray.
She wasn’t six-feet-whatever.
And she didn’t have horns.
She’s human.
Does he have another human stashed away onboard here? Because that sure as shit wasn’t Jaya or Lois (the very thought has my stomach swooping).
Storming past him, I go back into the blindingly white room to see…
No one at all.
I turn in a circle on the spot. “Where did she go?”
Kiahn is standing there in the doorway, wearing only his undone pants, pulled loosely up his hips, the bulge still very evidently straining against its confines. He looks at me, his face riddled with confusion.
Am I going insane?
“The girl,” I say, gesturing toward where the white ledge had been before, “she was…”
The white ledge she’d been perched on isn’t there anymore either.
Maybe I really am losing it.
Kiahn wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “Are you angry that I am using your permission?” he asks. “I checked and double-checked the contract, but if you want to withdraw from that clause, you may.”
I blink at him, my mouth opening without any sound coming out. I close it again. What is he talking about? Permission to what? Fuck other people? Did I agree to that? I don’t remember anything like that being in the contract. But… admittedly, the process of going through it all was long and draining, and, after the first few hours I’d stopped asking Vel to explain every single clause, and I kind of zoned out a bit.
I’m about to askso many questions, but Kiahn interrupts my scattered thoughts with one of his own. “Whose shirt is that?”
The tone in his voice leaves no room for interpretation; he ispissed.
And that just makes me feel even more pissed right back at him, because I’m still so confused.
And disappointed.
And I can’t get the image of him kneeling with his face tucked between her thighs, and-
Where the fuck did she even go?!
I turn again, trying to see if there’s another door in here somewhere.
“The shirt, Niska,” Kiahn repeats, his voice low and dangerous. “Why are you wearing another male’s shirt?”
I stop my futile search and stare at the prince. “It’s your brother’s. I got it from his closet. Now, explain to me where that woman went before I start looking for hidden doorways in here.”
Kiahn’s brows rise and he takes a breath to speak before seemingly thinking better of it and shaking his head. “You-” he starts, but his glittering green eyes fall down my frame again taking in my attire. “Wait there.” He leaves briefly, but comes back, muttering to himself, a wad of white fabric balled in his fist. “Wear this one instead,” he insists, holding out what I’m assuming ishisshirt now. “I cannot concentrate with you in another male’s clothes.”
Staring at the balled up fabric in my hands, I briefly wonder if the alien liquor I’ve consumed is just making me dumb right now? Why would he care so whose shirt I’m wearing if he’s in here fucking someone else? When I look back up at him, Kiahn is standing there, his thick arms crossed over his broad, gray chest as he stares back at me, expectantly.
