Chapter 27
Jasmine
What in the actual hell had I let happen?
It took me a few minutes to recover after Wrexxon untangled himself from me, dressed, and left his quarters with little more than a glance in my direction. Then it was only minutes more until I was out of bed, tugging my dress over my head, and pacing the floor.
Once the Vandar warlord was gone, the haze of desire that seemed to buzz between us evaporated, leaving me furious with myself and not a little bit sore. There was no use denying to myself that I’d wanted every bit of what had happened. Hell, I’d even begged him to fuck me.
My cheeks ignited at the memory, and heat arrowed south, pulsing between my legs. “Oh, no,” I muttered, glancing down. “I’m not letting you make any more decisions.”
There was no arguing that the Vandar was my weakness or that I hadn’t loved every torrid moment with him. I couldn’t even promise myself I wouldn’t fall right back into his arms the moment he walked back through the doors.
“Way to make things difficult for him,” I grumbled. “Way to resist.”
But I’d forgotten exactly why I was supposed to resist. Was it because he’d taken me from my home? If the Empire had targeted me for execution, then he’d saved my life. Was it because he’d kept me in his quarters? I’d been the one to climb naked into his bed and attempt to seduce him.
Maybe instead of trying to fight against falling for him, I should admit that it was a lost cause.
I hadn’t been lying when I’d told him I was his.
Every fiber of my being craved more of his touch.
Which was going to be a challenge if he still intended to dump me at the nearest Vandar safe house or whatever he’d called it.
Before we’d fallen into bed, we’d been debating the issue.
Well, I’d been debating. He’d been shutting me down and hoisting me over his shoulder to keep me quiet.
Maybe he’d be more amenable to keeping me around now.
Then a dark thought danced through my brain.
Or maybe fucking me had been his way of distracting me so I would stop arguing.
“Tvekking hell,” I whispered fiercely, finding the Vandar curse much more satisfying.
Then the door slid open, and I spun, expecting to see Wrexxon stride in and opening my mouth to laugh into the reasons he should change his mind about leaving me behind while he rescued the other Imperial targets. But it wasn't Wrexxon.
It was a Vandar, but he was less battle-scarred than Wrexxon and his officers. Older, though it was hard to tell with the Vandar, and dressed in leather pants instead of a battle kilt and a vest that covered his chest. A satchel of sorts was slung over one shoulder.
“Who are you?”
“Skaz. I’ve been sent to dress you.”
I took a step back. “Dress me? I can dress myself, thanks.”
His eyes crinkled as he smiled. “Not literally. The Raas sent word through his majak that you need appropriate clothing.”
I remained skeptical. “Appropriate for what?”
Skaz’s gaze slid down my dirty, wrinkled dress and he tilted his head. “I think anything that isn’t as filthy and rumpled as what you’re wearing would be more fitting for a bride of the Vandar.”
I gulped at the word bride. “Is that what he told you? That I’m his bride?”
The Vandar shook his head and walked closer, as if I was speaking nonsense. “The entire horde knows he took a war bride from Lexxona.” He studied me more carefully now. “I would have thought he might have let you pack a few things, but apparently you’re wearing everything you brought.”
I glanced down at the dress that had seen better days. I’d even put it on inside out after grabbing it from the floor. Fabulous.
“Do you favor dresses like…” Skaz hesitated, flicking his hand at my garment, “or would you consider trousers. Or perhaps a battle kilt of your own?”
I wrinkled my nose at the idea of wearing heavy strips of leather like the Vandar. “The Vandar kilts don’t look warm or comfortable, but I wouldn’t mind pants.”
The Vandar grinned. “I think you could pull off leather pants.”
Did the Vandar wear anything that wasn’t leather? I drudged up a smile. “I’ll leave it up to you.”
He walked around me, his eyes narrowed. “Yes, yes.” He tapped one finger on his chin. “Do you mind if I measure you?”
I shrugged. Most of the clothes I owned had been my mother’s or had been purchased ready-made and big enough to grow into. I’d never been fitted for a garment.
“Arms out,” he said, but it was a gentle command and nothing like the orders from Raas Wrexxon that sent shivers of unwanted pleasure down my spine.
I complied, holding my arms out as he ran a length of string down one side of my body then whipped it around my waist and my hips.
He measured my bust from behind, not even feathering a finger over my chest. When he was done, he stepped back, turned to the bag over his shoulder, and produced a swath of fabric that was shockingly not leather.
“What do you think about this shade for your Raisa gown?”
It was a lovely shade of slate blue, but I could barely focus on the color when his words confused me. “Raisa gown?”
“The gown you’ll wear for your bonding ceremony that will officially make you the Raas’s Raisa. I suppose in your language it would mean queen. I don’t typically craft dresses, but I was asked to show you fabrics until we can find a dressmaker.”
I stiffened. Being told you were being taken as a war bride was one thing but being measured for a dress for a ceremony that would bind you to the ruthless warlord known as The Scourge was another thing altogether.
Despite what he’d said, I’d believed the concept that a war bride was political.
Even if there was truth in the Raas’s possessive claims, I hadn’t thought it would be soon.
“Is this ceremony taking place at the Vandar hiding spot or colony?”
Skaz frowned. “Not that I know of.” Another jerk of his shoulders. “But they rarely tell me where we’re going.”
I studied the fabric more intently, but my mind was unable to focus. “I…I don’t know.”
“It’s a big decision,” he mused.
All of this was a lot, but I couldn’t take another step without knowing that he wasn’t going to ship me off to some Vandar hiding place.
“I need to ask Wrexxon,” I blurted before softening my voice. “My fiancé. I need to know if he likes it.”
The Vandar’s startled look eased into a smile. “I’m sure he will.”
“No,” I snapped, then forced myself to modulate my voice. “It’s important to me that I please him. Can’t we just go find him and ask?”
Skaz blinked hard then blinked again. “You want to track down the Raas?”
I didn’t want to, but I had a sinking suspicion the Vandar was about to make me his queen, fuck my brains out until I could barely think straight, and then dump me at the Vandar stash place while he gallivanted off to save more rebels. “I think it would be best.”
He exhaled loudly. “I can assure you he will not welcome either of us on his command deck, but I can request his presence in my workshop.” He turned and waved for me to follow. “Come with me.”
I might have lost a few of the battles when it came to the Vandar warlord, but I hadn’t yet conceded the war.