Chapter 17
CHAPTER
SEVENTEEN
“Thank you for seeing us on such short notice,” Captain Ruciyah murmured, accepting the crystal cup from the servant and placing it back on the table.
Strange to offer someone in a helmet a drink.
Lesephous hummed, taking his own teacup from the male before waving him away. A slight sheen glimmered on his hairless head, spidery golden veins a similar shade to the tea in the cups.
“Remove your helm,” he commanded.
Behind us, Greabes gave a grunt of indignation, but Captain Ruciyah raised his free hand to silence him. “You know we only remove our helmets in our homes or for special circumstances.”
The male gave him a sly grin, taking another sip of the golden tea.
“My home is your home, Captain Ruciyah. But I must inspect you if I am to add you to the list. Your little plaything here of course will be welcome, but what if there was something monstrous beneath that mask? I would never be able to survive the shame.”
I bit back my scoff. There was something monstrous beneath his mask, yet I doubted Lesephous would see it.
But Captain Ruciyah’s hand froze on the back of my neck, tension sliding out from his shoulders and down into my own.
After a moment, the Louxurian male leaned forward, leveling him with a serious gaze.
“If you want the invitation, I am afraid I must insist, Captain Ruciyah.”
All at once the unease melted away. Captain Ruciyah’s head tipped to the side as his hand slid from my neck, lingering for just a moment across the curve of my shoulder. “Call me Asher, please.”
The hardness in Lesephous’ face melted into a grin, the skin of his cheeks flushing a pale lavender.
I tried not to watch as the captain pressed his thumbs into the divots beside his temples, but it was hard to look away when he carefully lifted the top half of the helmet from his head.
The knot of hair was neater today, as if he’d anticipated this might be an eventuality.
At the last moment I remembered the role I had to play and leaned forward to take it from his grip, settling the warm metal in my lap.
The inside was padded and the visor was not merely glass or a heat resilient polymer, but a screen through which he could see the world.
I didn’t want to think about what it was he saw and what it told him when he looked through it.
“Thank you, ly’anen,” he murmured, brushing back the hair from my shoulder the way I’d seen countless masters do with their yeskas and yet…nothing like that at all. The intensity in his gaze was as if he was standing on the edge of a limb and wondering if he could survive a fall.
I fought the shiver dancing in the wake of his touch, merely a physical reaction to an intimacy I’d never known, and kept my eyes fixed on the top half of the helmet in my lap.
It was easy to understand why Lyrace and now Lesephous fell at Captain Ruciyah’s feet in a puddle.
I was sure anyone would crumble at the soft rumble of his voice, the wide breadth of his shoulders, even the sharp lines of his face, the piercing silver of his eyes.
He was a venomous flower calling you in, ready in a moment to destroy everything you’d ever loved.
Lesephous sat up, swinging his legs down until his sandaled feet slapped onto the ground. He assessed Captain Ruciyah like a piece of artwork, head tilting this way and that. “Now the rest.”
This time when Greabes gave another grumble of indignation, Captain Ruciyah didn’t silence him. He only shook his head, head tipping down as if in apology.
“You know I can’t.” His tone was almost teasing as he leaned forward, one hand resting on his thigh, fingertips brushing the fabric of my skirt while he rested his elbow on the other.
Lesephous flattened his lips like a scolded child who knew they would not be punished. “You will, of course, have to remove it for the gala. It’s Federation law.”
Captain Ruciyah’s expression hardened and then it was gone, so quick I wondered if the male saw it. “I’m afraid I haven’t heard of this new ruling.”
Halo orb light cast rainbows onto the table in front of us as the male folded his hands in his lap and admired one of his ostentatious rings.
“Any appearance-altering apparel is strictly forbidden within gatherings sponsored or hosted by the Federation for the safety of those in attendance. Crime is on the rise, Captain, haven’t you heard?
Mercenaries popping up this way and that, desperate for any shiny thing they can get their grubby little hands on.
” He wiggled his pudgy fingers in my direction and I wondered how much effort it would take to bite them off.
“A gala is hardly cause for—” Greabes started behind him, but this time Captain Ruciyah did raise his hand for silence.
“Of course, thank you for informing me.”
White brows ticked up and Lesephous clapped his hands together. “Wonderful, wonderful! Of course, I’d be happy to host you and your pet the evening before, as the gala lasts the whole next day.”
I dropped my attention back to the helm in my lap, wondering how I could extricate myself from this meeting.
My chest couldn’t expand wide enough for my lungs and sweat dewed the back of my neck.
But I forced a breath and relaxed my shoulders, erasing the image of what that sort of invitation might insinuate.
There had always been talk on the Daskquah of what happened at parties yeskas on the ship were hired for.
Parties that could last for days, the orgiastic performances sometimes set up on a little stage for the amusement of those in attendance.
They were always well paid, of course, and most of them returned to the ship with smiles on their faces, arms overflowing with gifts—even if the light in their eyes was a little dimmer than before.
A gloved hand curled again around my neck, giving it a squeeze, and I was grateful for the years I’d spent in Ebyd III learning to destroy any ounce of feeling. I would not allow myself to sink into the comfort he offered with the simple touch.
Comfort was dangerous, especially in the palm of a monster.
“We’d be happy to accept your invitation. However, I should warn you I’m not one for public displays.”
Lesephous gave a jovial chuckle, and it was clear he wasn’t really listening. “Of course, of course. There are a handful of others I’ll be hosting as well, and one of the most beautiful Venyan males you’ve ever seen. Your pet will be in very good—”
The hand on the back of my neck tightened and I looked up in time to catch a dangerous flash across the top half of Captain Ruciyah’s face. “Juniper is mine.”
The male blinked in surprise, lips moving without words for a moment as they stared at one another, some unspoken conversation passing between them. “O-of course. We would still be happy to host you both.”
But I couldn’t shake the feeling of my name on his lips, the fervor in those words, as though it was another brand on my skin. I wanted to scream, to grab the quara blade on his hilt and shove it through his throat.
To be owned was one thing. I had been owned for most of my life.
I belonged to the Federation and was to be discarded the moment I was no longer useful.
But to be possessed was something different—something so much more treacherous.
To be possessed was to be destroyed, to be mangled past all recognition and linger on the edges waiting for death.
I’d watched it happen countless times through my time on Daskquah and had understood it even on Ebyd III with the games the guards played.
It’s an act, I reminded myself as the two males fell into an easier conversation about the pieces we would see on display, Captain Ruciyah careful to avoid any mention of the stone but prodding for it all the same. This is a means to an end.
And yet something pulsed in the back of my mind, the knowledge that this was merely the beginning of a very dangerous game.