Eve had connections and had able to get them both off Everton. Khiva had extended the offer to the rest of them—to Tavak, Ravu, Dravka, and Valerie—but only he and Eve had gotten off the colony. Last Dravka had heard, they were settled on a neutral colony in the Second Quadrant.
He hadn’t heard anything since. It had been three months since they’d left.
The fact that Tavak was bringing Khiva up now was strange in itself. His question was even stranger. Tavak was the first to decline Khiva’s offer, given his past. In Tavak’s mind, work was hard to come by on the colonies. In Tavak’s mind, he would always be a whore, one way or another. And unlike Khiva and Dravka, Tavak and Ravu knew the sharp sting of hunger and desperation.
At least on Everton, they were fed and housed. They knew what to expect, day in and day out.
“You regret not going with him?” Dravka asked, cocking his head to the side, watching the other male closely.
Tavak blew out a breath. His expression grew guarded once more. “I didn’t say that.”
But he was sayingsomething.
Dravka shook his head, casting the other male a speculative look. “I need sleep.”
But as he was heading for his bedroom, Tavak said behind him, “She deserves a straight answer.”
Dravka froze, a scowl spreading across his lips. He glared at Tavak over his shoulder, knowing he was speaking of Valerie.
But Tavak didn’t back down from his glare. Instead, the male said, “If you truly love her, why prolong her pain? Cut her free.”
His words struck a sensitive ache in Dravka. He’d always known that. He’d always known that Valerie could have a life beyond Madame Allegria’s. She could marry, she could have a family, the one she’d always wanted. She could have thechildrenshe’d always wanted. Children that Dravka knew he could not give her.
But selfishly, for five years, Dravka had kept her tethered to him, perhaps unknowingly at first.
After Khiva’s departure, however, it had become all the more obvious that a future between them was an impossibility. With Khiva gone, Madame Allegria would never let another of her Krave go. She was already searching the outer colonies for his replacement, seeking another desperate Keriv'i male who would whore himself for safety and a full belly.
Many would.
But this life had started to tear at all of them, Tavak and Ravu included.
Tavak thought he should cut Valerie free?
Though the words felt like blades torn from his throat, he rasped, “I know.”
Chapter Three
“Walk straight,” Valerie’s aunt hissed as her high heels clicked on the Old World cobblestones, which lined the pathway leading to the grand, palatial home in the Garden District.
Madame Allegria was strangely on edge that afternoon. The sun was shining bright overhead, making Valerie squint. Yet, they were both dressed in extravagant evening gowns, with tall heels and curled hair. The makeup that was plastered all over Val’s face made her eyes water and her nose tickle. She suppressed the urge to sneeze.
Bewilderment and unease had risen within her chest all throughout the morning after her aunt had whisked her away from the brothel in a driverless car. She’d taken her to High Street, where they’d both gotten their hair and makeup done. When they finished, Madame Allegria had led her down a few shops to a dress store with an elegant and dazzling window display—of a floor-length dress encrusted completely in diamonds.
Madame Allegria had been warm and inviting with everyone they’d encountered that morning. Practiced charm and practiced interest in others, and Valerie had clenched her jaw tight as she watched the same act over and over again. Madame Allegria had even smiled at her, numerous times, announcing to everyone that she was her beloved niece, all the way from Genesis.
Which only made more dread fill her.
Because in the five years she’d been on Everton, Madame Allegria had never told anyone about her. Not even the clients that frequented the brothel knew that Valerie was related to the infamous madame.
Word would get out.
Which led Valerie to wonder just what in the universe her aunt was up to.
Now, looking at the Garden District mansion that was coming into view, with its white columns and grand staircase entrance, Valerie was close to vomiting her nerves all over the cobblestoned walkway.
Madame Allegria’s sharp nails cut into the skin at her elbow as they hurried along. In front of the house, she saw people socializing. They were drunk, laughing loudly in broad daylight, and stumbling across the bright, emerald-green lawn with shimmering flutes of teal-colored champagne clutched in their hands.
The long dress that encased Valerie’s body got trapped underneath her heels, causing her to stumble. It was bright pink—garish and harsh—but it was the height of the current fashion on Everton, or so the shop girl had proudly claimed. As Valerie got a better look at the partygoers, she saw the girl had been right.
