Chapter 11 Jasmine
Jasmine
The door slid shut behind the Vandar who’d escorted me to the Raas's quarters, leaving me alone in the warlord’s private lair. I stood still, almost afraid to move deeper into the room, afraid to disturb the silence.
Then I took a step, my foot tapping on the shiny, black floor. Everything in the enormous room was dark and glossy and hard, and it could not feel more foreign.
I’d grown up living above the bakery in cramped rooms that were warmed by the rising heat from the downstairs ovens but boasted plentiful cracks and leaks that let frigid air needle its way through the walls.
My bedroom was barely large enough for a narrow bed pushed against the wall and a small dresser huddled across from it.
The drafty window was constantly stuffed with rags in an attempt to plug the gaps, and well-worn blankets handed down from my mother were piled on the bed until I could barely move under the weight.
My sisters shared a slightly larger room, but there were two of them in one marginally bigger bed, along with constant grumblings about who stole the covers.
Here? One Vandar had a suite bigger than all our rooms, and even the bakery, combined. Even if he was the Raas, it seemed indulgent.
I took another tentative step, eyeing the floor-to-ceiling windows that comprised an entire wall and looked out onto the star-filled expanse of space. It was a view that should have been beautiful, but instead just reminded me how alone and far away from home I was.
A massive bed dominated the center of the room, and it was easily three times the size of my narrow cot back home. The dark furs and silky fabrics looked casually tossed aside, with crimson and black pillows scattered at the head.
Jerking my gaze away, I tried not to imagine the Raas sleeping in the tangle of sheets. The last thing I wanted occupying my thoughts was the Vandar and his golden eyes or his hands that were huge and warm and gentle despite their obvious strength.
"Stop it," I hissed at myself, my voice sharp in the empty room. "He's the enemy. He kidnapped you. He's using you as leverage. He's—"
Hot. He was objectively, undeniably hot in a way that made my traitorous body react even as my mind screamed that I should hate him.
"No," I said firmly as I started to pace. "Absolutely not. He's a raider. A criminal. A—"
A warrior who fought the Empire. One who'd apparently been defending settlements like mine from Imperial reconquest, and one who'd looked at me with something that almost seemed like regret when my name was called.
I shook my head violently, trying to dislodge the traitorous thoughts. It didn't matter what his motivations were. It didn't matter if he had good reasons or noble intentions or even if he was genuinely trying to protect people from the Zagrath.
He'd taken my choice away. Taken me from my sisters. From my home. From my life. And I would never, ever forgive him for that.
The anger burned hot and bright as I stalked around the suite, past the holographic fireplace inset in a half wall that separated the sleeping area from a round ebony dining table that was too big for only one.
I stopped in front of the dancing flames and held out my hands.
It even gave off heat in warm pulses, making my anger flame anew.
What my colony wouldn’t give for a shred of the Vandar’s heating technology.
But eventually, my rage wore itself down to coals. It wasn’t gone, but it was smoldering. Waiting.
I stomped restlessly away from the fake fire until I’d reached the far side of the room and an arch in the wall. There was more? Curiosity overrode caution as I moved closer, poked my head through the doorway, and stopped breathing.
The space was nearly as large as the main suite, all dark stone and pinpricks of gold light sparkling in the ceiling like stars. But it was the sunken tub cut into the floor and hewn from rough black stone shot through with veins of deep red that provoked a gasp.
Water flowed from an opening high in the ceiling, cascading down the far wall in a glittering sheet before splashing into the pool below. The water bubbled and steamed, and the air was dewy and perfumed with spices that were entirely masculine.
I breathed in deeply, fighting the urge to know what it would feel like to sink into water that hot and that deep.
On the colony, hot water was intermittent at best. Baths were quick, efficient affairs in a cast iron tub with your knees pulled up to your ears and with water that cooled too fast to enjoy.
But this? This was decadent and excessive, and I wanted it so badly I groaned.
I took a step closer, mesmerized by the light playing across the moving water. Then I noticed that a rock wall split the pool in half, one side bubbling red water and the other a pale hue of green.
I bent to dip my fingers in the water but snapped back to standing at the sound of the suite door sliding open behind me. Retreating from the bathroom, I spun around just as the Raas walked in.
It took me a beat to remember my earlier wrath, but before I could unload on him, more Vandar entered behind him.
The small procession of Vandar carried trays laden with dishes they began arranging on the dining table.
Then the aroma of the bathing pool was overpowered by the savory scents of the food that made my mouth water against my will.
The Raas moved to the table, settling into one of the stern, high-backed chairs. He poured red wine from a carafe into a glass, then looked up at me.
He waved toward the table, indicating a chair with a gesture that managed to be both commanding and inviting. "Vaes." The Vandar word sounded like a command, but his tone verged on polite. "You must be hungry."
My stomach growled, loud enough that I was certain everyone in the room heard it.
Traitor, I thought as I pressed a hand to my belly. I wanted to refuse. I wanted to tell him exactly where he could shove his dinner invitation. I wanted to storm out, but there was nowhere to storm to, nowhere to run.
Not only that, but I was also hungry. Starving, actually. I'd been too nervous to eat before the assembly, aside from a few absentminded bites of bread.
I moved to the table, deliberately choosing the chair furthest from him. It was still closer than I wanted, but at least I felt like I’d made a point.
Not that the Raas cared or even noticed. He’d started serving himself, taking sizable scoops of meat stew and tearing off hunks of fresh bread. When I reached for the bread and realized it was still warm, I was hit with a pang of homesickness so sharp it almost made me gasp.
Pushing through the urge to cry by shoving some bread in my mouth, I kept my head down as I scooped smaller portions of the steaming food onto my plate. When I’d filled my plate, I snuck a glance at him, noticing that the sound of chewing had stopped.
The Vandar warlord had leaned back in his chair, one dark brow cocked. "Would you like to know why I saved you?"
I froze, a piece of bread halfway to my mouth. Saved me?