Chapter 20
Frederique
Three days were a strangely long time to suddenly be completely without my dark, surly mercenary.
I had not realized how much I would miss him, considering he’d already withdrawn.
He called every day, especially when he knew I was about to go to bed.
It was actually uncanny how he always knew exactly how to time his calls.
The time apart was making it clear how much that didn’t work for me, which meant I had to face one very obvious truth: mate bonds were more than just a biological imperative, like I’d always assumed.
They were something more, something deep and special, something that could not be quantified by tests and measurements.
Love, it was real, and this mate bond meant it was unavoidable.
The fact that Sin called each night and left a message for me to discover in the morning proved it was not one-sided.
He still didn’t say nice things, just: don’t forget to eat breakfast. Don’t stay up too late reading.
Or a favorite: don’t steal my shirts, you wrinkle them.
He was bossy, surly, but he could not stop reaching out—like I was on his mind as much as he was on mine, and I liked that.
“Do you think that mission is gonna take much longer?” I asked Val.
She was by the door, lying in a curled-up little ball, looking pitifully small.
It seemed improbable, but it felt like she’d gotten smaller over the past three days, and she seemed slow and listless.
Not the protector that Sin had intended to leave behind.
More worrisome, what if the same was happening to the parts of Val down on the planet with Sin?
I’d spent my time well, but I wanted it to be over.
Sin and I needed to talk about what was going on with him and his symbiont, and why everything I read on the Sons of Ragnar made no sense.
Val was supposed to feed on emotions in a delicate, careful manner, siphoning them from everyone around her and slowly growing stronger and bigger as she aged.
By Sin’s own admission, he’d been alive since before the time I was born, Val should be much more substantial than she was.
Big enough, even, to shape herself into a small ship at this point, a shuttle.
Instead, she was maintaining Sin’s armor and a small avatar for both of us, and that was it.
Not to mention her coloring: silver, when she should be black.
The symbiont sighed, laying down her small Riho snout and listlessly whipping her tail back and forth over the deck.
She’d been doing that all morning, and I had this creeping sense that she was low on energy, that she was hungry, starving.
But why? How? When I worried a lot about it, the feelings would drain away, and Val would perk up just a little.
It told me she was feeding, but why wasn’t it enough?
“I guess I’ll go find the girls again. I need a new canteen with tea…
” I said out loud. Sliding from the bed, I put down my tablet and wriggled my toes inside the fluffy socks I wore.
The ladies on the ship had donated things from their wardrobes for me to wear, for now, but these fluffy socks had come from Ysa, the Ulinial engineer.
She wore black overalls, clunky boots with extra thick soles, and her blue hair in a thick braid around her waist. She was a bit like an alien version of a tough goth chick, so the socks had skulls and bones on them.
Of course, they were alien-looking skulls, because this was not Earth.
I wore leggings that Lyra had lent me because she was closest in size, and a sweater from Ruby, since she had plenty of clothes left over from her pregnancy.
And Sin was right, beneath that sweater, I wore one of his silk shirts because it was freaking comfortable and smelled like him.
He could deal with the wrinkles when he got back.
This was not an outfit I would have worn before; I’d always been expected to maintain a strictly professional appearance—either my uniform or the clothing my parents had personally approved. It was comfy and relaxing.
“No comment?” I prodded Val, but the symbiont rolled over onto her back in a lazy manner, then flicked her thick tail over her snout and hid.
She didn’t want to cuddle anymore. She kept her distance.
She was tired… Yeah, something was seriously wrong.
Most of all, Val hated leaving Sin’s quarters to see the others on the ship.
When I did, she stayed as far away as she could without losing her ability to protect me.
I felt so bad for her that I limited my visits to short ones—but it was making Harper ask questions, and Mandy kept dropping by to see if I was okay.
Stepping past her, I went to the door, but was suddenly halted when Val threw herself in my path.
She’d moved lightning fast, faster than she had all day.
Her small, furry body was fluffed out: all spikes and an angrily whipping tail.
I stumbled, desperately trying to avoid getting impaled on all that sharpness.
My hand caught the edge of a shelf, slid on the smooth surface, and knocked something fragile over, which fell and shattered into a dozen pieces.
What the hell? I was more concerned with Val than the shards around my sock-clad feet.
What happened? Why did she do that, and more importantly, was she hurt?
Her growling was weak and pitiful, more like a kitten than an angry Riho.
It didn’t even come close to what a snarling Gracka could sound like, but that was the form she’d taken now: her most favorite shape, sleek hound lines, pointed snout and ears, only she was so tiny.
Then I saw what she was facing, and the whole world seemed to narrow to that one point in the room.
Color drained from my vision as panic began pounding furiously through my veins.
Sleek shadows, curling tentacles that hinted at pink and blue.
A flash of a face, of something that was almost human but not quite.
Davidson’s eyes peered at me with fervent, zealous obsession.
Val was so tiny standing between me and that thing, but she stood boldly, bravely, swelling in size and fury as my fear flooded the room.
A little Gracka with a mouth full of teeth and silver fury to back her up.
It wasn’t enough, not even close, though my companion slashed with silver claws and danced between me and the danger, never letting it pass.
I shuffled to the side slowly, my back to the shelves, my hands sliding along the edge for balance.
This was a minefield of shards and danger, but I gritted my teeth when my foot encountered sharpness and got sliced.
The door wasn’t far; I needed to get to the door.
I was certain that if I could bolt through it, Val would follow, then I just needed to find the nearest mercenary to blow this thing to bits.
That was easier said than done, even if the adrenaline flooding my system made me forget about the pain in my foot.
Val was shifting with me, and I knew the smart girl was trying to help me get out.
Tentacles of shadow moved so fast, so quickly that I could see them blur through the air.
Val wasn’t fast enough; she barely blocked each blow, and she wasn’t in good form.
I had to get us out of here, as much for me as for her.
Davidson did not look like he was that interested in courting now.
If he got his flailing tentacles on me, I was certain I was a goner.
Almost to the door, my back struck the wall rather than the knickknack-laden shelf, and my hand slid across the smooth surface to find the button to open it.
The silver comm device on my wrist glinted, reminding me I had more options.
I thumbed the device on as the door swished open, but then faltered.
Calling Sin would just be cruel, he was down on the planet and couldn’t help me.
I called Mandy instead; she’d know who was still on the ship and could help.
At the same time, I stepped through the open doorway and into the lit hallway beyond.
Val was in a standoff with the writhing shadows; they were not trading blows, but she was still blocking his path.
I couldn’t see his human face inside the darkness, but I felt his eyes on me anyway.
It made my skin crawl and my stomach twist in my belly, threatening to throw up that thermos of tea I’d consumed over the past couple hours.
“Hi, Freddie, what’s up? Do you want some company?
” Mandy asked cheerfully. The lights in the hallway flickered, dimming once before surging brightly.
It was a bit like Mandy’s voice, the abrupt cheer after the terrifying seconds from before.
My foot stung, reminding me that the danger was real—and painfully deadly.
“I need help, right now. That thing from the water planet, it’s in my room,” I said, my voice a hoarse whisper.
Mandy did not ask stupid questions or panic.
No, she was instantly all business, and I drew in a relieved breath.
Mandy knew what to do; Mandy would make it all right.
Except, help was still across the ship, and the Davidson creature was moving again, sliding across the room closer and closer to Val, as if it were testing how much she would stand her ground.
Val was backing up, slow step by slow step, but she was backing away.