Athena rolled her eyes and looped her arm through the other actress’s. “Point taken. Aren’t you supposed to be on stage soon?”
Lettie glanced around and yelped before rushing toward the stage.
“Sorry about that,” Athena said.
“No apology needed,” Kolt said. “The Vandar are superior to the Zagrath in every way.”
Well, at least he hadn’t forgotten everything. He was still cocky as hell.
Hal bustled up with a paper bag and thrust it at me. “Here. I had one of the stagehands go get you two some food to have in your hiding space.”
I took the warm bag from him, breathing in savory scents that emanated from it. “Thank you. Truly.”
He fluttered a hand at me. “Don’t thank me too soon. You might be in there for a while.”
I thought about the small space and being with Kolt for so many hours. My heart tripped in my chest and my cheeks warmed, even as I reminded myself that my focus should be on escape and survival. When I looked up, Athena was giving me a knowing smile as she draped a jacket over my shoulders.
“I think they’ll be just fine.”
Chapter
Thirty-One
Kolt
“It feels smaller.” Skye dropped the bag of food on the bed and pivoted on one foot to face me as Athena slid the door shut from the outside.
Strictly speaking, it was exactly the same size it had been last night, but I knew what she meant. Now that we’d spent most of the day with the theatre troupe, sequestering ourselves in a tiny, enclosed space seemed especially confining.
Without knowing why, I knew I preferred vast spaces. I was used to vast spaces—soaring ceilings, open-air walkways, cavernous ships. I knew, without being able to conjure accurate memories, that Vandar warbirds were massive.
“We will not need to be in here all night,” I said as I walkedbent over to the bed. “They will come for us once the theatre is cleared.”
“After their performance, which won’t even start for a while.” Skye sighed, rubbing her arms briskly even though she was wearing the jacket Athena had given her. “I know it’s not the end of the world, but after the cell and now this, I’m really starting to feel twitchy in small spaces.”
Sitting because the ceiling was too low for me to stand, I leaned back on the bed. “Do not focus on the small space.”
She pressed her lips together as if physically holding back from a retort, then released a slow breath. “How do you suggest I do that?”
My instinct was to suggest we continue our battle practice, but it would be impossible where we were hiding. I extended my leg in front of me, grateful to be off it.
Her face instantly morphed from irritated to sympathetic. “Is it hurting again?”
I shook my head. “It is tender, but there is no pain.”
She crossed the room and sat next to me, moving the bag of food to the floor. “You big oaf. You should have told me if it was sore.”
“Oaf? What is an oaf?”
She flicked her gaze to me, then to my leg. “A guy who tries to be tough and pretends he’s not hurt when he is.”
I tilted my head at her. “That is a very specific word.”
She didn’t look up. “Yeah, well, English is a rich language.”She motioned to my kilt. “Do you mind if I move this to check on the bandage?”
“I do not mind.” I leaned my head against the wall and closed my eyes. It was enough that her fingers were brushing against my skin as she parted my kilt, but watching her touch me would be too much.
Even without watching, the warmth of her fingertips sent heat pulsing through me and made my heart stutter. I clenched my teeth and tried to think of anything but how close her hands were to my cock and how much I wanted them to be even closer.
