Cleo
CLEO
Maxym and Retah glare at each other. I have no love for Trefa, but I didn’t think Retah felt so strongly about the place.
Maxym’s feathers prick, rising like a wave over his wings. Suddenly, he twirls them all back into place in a rushing shuffle both violent and purposeful. It doesn’t seem like an action he has any control over.
“Fine,” Maxym growls, looking down at me. “But my mate must be safe before I fight. In your condition, you can hardly help me look after her.”
“Wait, what?” I shake my head, attempting to access the supposed thoughtbond, but the fickle thing seems to be limited to emotions, not words at this moment in time. “You’re not sending me away while you defend this place. I won’t allow it.”
“ Eregri , you are with young,” Maxym says in his deep velvet voice.
“Yes, I think that fact is well established,” I growl, “but that didn’t stop me being abducted and dragged millions, billions of light years from my home and deposited here. It didn’t stop me working for Retah or in the dome. You’re not sending me away with such a pathetic excuse.”
Both males stare at me like I’ve grown horns or wings. Tibi snorts a laugh.
“Cirmos females fight while they’re with young. And Cirmos have six or more young at a time, Gryn,” she says.
Retah and Maxym look at her, eyes wide. What fires down the thoughtbond at me via Maxym is undeniable confusion and also…curiosity.
“Cirmos fight?” Maxym says, unwisely.
Tibi unsheathes her claws.
“We fight,” she says, her voice barely audible. “We have always fought because there are plenty who seek to enslave us.”
Maxym sits back. “Forgive me, mistress,” he says. “I am no stranger to slavery.”
I slip my hand into the base of his wings, seeking to diffuse the situation, although the rumble of pleasure I get from him is something which echoes in my brain and hits parts of me which are not going to help in this particular fight.
“I don’t want to leave. I don’t want to be without you. I know weapons. Even if I’m not in the thick of it, I can still be of use,” I say.
I do my best to push how I will feel if I can’t see him down the thoughtbond. How my heart will echo with emptiness, how it will feel like I’ve been placed in a vice, never knowing from day to day if he is alive or dead, and my life being a half life. Being no life.
“I know what you’re doing,” Maxym rumbles. “I don’t want you in danger.”
I see the chink in his armor, and I push. “How can I be in danger if I have you to protect me?”
“We all need something to fight for,” Retah says, briefly glancing at me. “ will always be safe, I will see to it. But I also agree we need her. She is the only one with the knowledge of all this.” He extends his arm and sweeps it around at the basement. “And I’m not as injured as I look,” he adds.
Maxym growls under his breath. “I have your bond she will be safe?”
“I’m right here, you know.” I poke him in his side. “I promise I will keep myself safe. I’ve managed okay so far.”
He turns to me. “You shouldn’t have had to, and I am here to protect you now.”
“I appreciate it.” I take his hand. “I do, really, but don’t send me away.”
His dark eyes reflect the lights in the room as they study my face. I hope he’s thinking of the time I pulled a sword on him. I’m hoping he’s remembering how well I handled those weapons. I want him to let me stay so very much.
Maxym grimaces as the thoughts enter his head. “I don’t want to agree, but how can I deny you anything?”
“You can’t,” Tibi says. “She is your mate. That’s how it works, Gryn.”
I do my level best not to laugh, fail, and I know Maxym is not amused in the slightest.
“And as for you, little one, you have young to consider, which means you also need to keep yourself safe,” Tibi admonishes me.
I now have to appear contrite, but I think Maxym got the worst of it, so I simply put my best innocent look on my face.
Nothing fools Tibi, who huffs at me.
“So, if I’m fighting, who’s with me, save for you, old warrior,” Maxym growls.
“I’m in touch with the resistance here on Trefa. They’re putting together a force,” Retah says.
Maxym snarls. “The resistance is as self-serving as the council. I would not trust them with my mate’s life or yours.”
“Then you’ll be pleased to know I’m also in contact with a force off Trefa who have agreed to help us, youngling,” Retah says, teeth gritted.
“Who?”
“Not important, but what is important is they’ll be here in a nova-day, and we need to prepare for them.”
“In what way?”
“We need to access the dome, cut off the Bogarok communications, make sure they can get to the ground without the Bogarok being warned.”
Maxym grumbles under his breath.
“Yes, gladiator, that’s why we need you,” Retah says, clearly not needing the thoughtbond. “Your knowledge of the dome.”
“I was bound to the dome. Now I am free, and you want me to go back,” Maxym says, pulling himself up to his full height, which, even seated, is impressive. And wide. And muscular.
“You will never be their prisoner again, not when I present the information I have to the Galactic Council,” Retah says.
“What?” I fire at him.
“Did you not think I’d want to help your mate?” Retah says, smiling at me. “I meant it when I said you were like a daughter to me, . I want you to be happy, and I never believed what was said about any of the Gryn in the dome.”
“But how? When my master could not…” Maxym asks as I curl my hand around his.
He looks down at where our fingers entwine, and I use the strange thoughtbond to tell him I’m here for him.
“Your master was murdered before he could pass on the evidence he had, but he wasn’t an idiot, and he made sure it was protected,” Retah says. “He didn’t anticipate you would be the accused, which is an oversight, but one which has, in the end, led us to come together.”
“You mean you want to help me?” Maxym asks.
“The Galactic Council has long had its own way, but when there is rot within, that rot has to be cut out, and you are the evidence those who seek to cleanse the Council need,” Retah says.
I stare at him. “You talk as if you’re some sort of politician, not an arms dealer,” I blurt out. “But you’re just a…”
He’s shaking his huge horned head. “I am sorry, little one,” Retah says. “It is true, I am an arms dealer as my cover, but my name isn’t Retah, and this isn’t my role.”
I give Maxym a worried glance, not liking this turn of events. He growls low and resonant.
“Now, now!” Retah holds up his hands. “I am not the threat. I am Baronn, a crown prince of the Remek, such as our species survives. I have been in hiding since the Liderc destroyed our planet. Since they too were disposed of, my role has been to ensure all others involved are brought to account.”
My jaw is slack as he looks between me and Maxym. Not quite comprehending what he is saying. My sweet pastry loving arms dealing boss is royalty ?
“And it is about time there was a reckoning.”