Chapter 10 Wrexxon
Wrexxon
Istrode onto the command deck of my warbird, and every Vandar in the space snapped their heels together in sharp salute, the sound echoing through the chamber like a thunderclap.
The command deck was exactly as I'd left it, darkness punctuated by the blue glow of control panels and holographic displays, with the wide arched glass showing the planet of Lexxona and the infinite expanse of space beyond.
Shirtless Vandar warriors in battle kilts stood at their stations, fingers dancing across touchscreens, calling out status updates and coordinates.
The sounds washed over me—the beeping of sensors, the crackle of static from long-range communications, the low burr of voices speaking Vandar—along with dizzying relief that I was back.
Here I was the Qeth’rex. The Scourge. Here, I knew exactly who I was and what I was supposed to do. Here I didn’t have to think about diplomacy or protocol or the woman in my quarters who despised me.
Kolt moved to the navigation station, his voice low as he conferred with the Vandar plotting our departure.
I caught fragments of their conversation about leaving a pair of horde ships to orbit Lexxona and provide defense.
Then coordinates were entered, and we began to move away from the frozen planet.
My battle chief returned to my side, pitching his voice low enough that only I could hear. "Is it wise to put a combatant in your quarters?"
I cocked my head, studying his face. "I don't consider the female a combatant.”
Kolt's mouth twitched but he kept his gaze forward. "Then you didn't see the way she looked at you, Raas."
I grunted. I'd seen it. I would also be seeing it in my dreams for quite some time.
"She's angry," I said. "She has a right to be angry. But that doesn't make her dangerous."
"Anger makes everyone dangerous." Kolt crossed his arms, his face set in stubborn lines. "Let me send a guard with you. Just in case."
I bristled at the implication. "I am a Raas of the Vandar. I don't need protection from a human female."
“We have all heard the stories of Raas Kaalek and his bride. If I’m not mistaken, she tried to rip an axe from his headboard in order to murder him.”
“And they have been mated for over a decade now, with many offspring.”
Kolt’s brows shot up. “Is that what you wish, Raas? You wish to impregnate—?”
“No!” I barked and most of the raiders glanced at us in surprise. I dropped my voice. “I have no intention of forcing myself on the female.”
“She is your war bride. No one would blame you…” His words died off as he noticed my stormy face.
I would never force any female. Even if the one in question looked at me as if she’d rather murder me than fuck me. I didn't want her unwillingly.
The thought gave me pause. My life as a Raas had been all about taking things and imposing my will, but now I didn’t want that. I didn’t want her like that.
"I'll be fine," I assured my battle chief, closing the subject
The ship's engines changed tenor, a subtle shift from idling to acceleration as we pulled away from Lexxona's orbit. Then the wide doors behind me swished open and Venik was by my side again.
I lifted a brow in question.
“Your guest is awaiting you in your quarters and dinner is being sent there.”
I nodded. “Good.” I noticed his pinched forehead. “There’s more?”
"We've picked up signals," he said, moving to the nearest console and pulling up a holographic display. "Imperial convoy. Three supply ships, two escort frigates. Standard transport configuration, heading toward the inner systems."
My lips pulled into a grin, and it was the first genuine smile I'd felt in hours. My hands tightened into fists, anticipation singing through my veins.
This. This was what I was made for. Raiding. Fighting. Taking from the Empire what they'd taken from so many others. Not diplomacy or negotiations or trying to figure out what to say to an angry human woman who probably wanted me dead.
I raised my voice, letting it carry across the command deck. "Vandar! Are we ready to do some raiding?"
The response was a roar of approval that shook the walls. My warriors were hungry for this. We'd been playing nice, making alliances, and being civilized, but we were Vandar. We were raiders.
I headed for the doors, my stride long and purposeful. At the threshold, I called back over my shoulder to Venik. "Call me when we're close. I'll be debriefing our new guest."
I didn't wait for his response. Didn't need to see the knowing look he was probably exchanging with Kolt. Let them think what they wanted.
The corridors of my warbird were familiar territory, my feet finding the path without conscious thought.
Warriors stepped aside as I passed, heels clicking in salute.
I reached a wide flight of steps and didn't slow, leaping from the top landing and hitting the next level in a controlled crouch that absorbed the impact.
The metal rang under my boots as I straightened and continued.
My quarters were a few levels down, isolated enough for privacy but close enough to the command deck that I could respond to emergencies quickly. The door recognized my biometric signature as I pressed my palm to the surface, and it slid open with a soft hiss.
I paused before entering, suddenly unsure.
Behind me, the warbird's systems were ramping up for combat. I sensed the subtle vibration through the deck as weapons came online and heard the rumbles of approval welling up from the bowels of the ship. But the blood wasn’t tearing hot through my veins because of the impending raiding mission.
It was an unrelenting drumbeat because I was about to have dinner with a woman who’d promised me she’d never like me. How had I possibly thought this was a good idea?