Chapter 18
CHAPTER
EIGHTEEN
The cruiser was silent on the journey back to the Kuxatana.
Captain Ruciyah had donned his helm the moment we’d left Lesephous’ presence with a visible tremor in his fingertips.
Anger washed over him in waves, so palpable it was a wonder I couldn’t feel the heat from where I was seated in the cockpit.
He had not released me for the rest of the meeting with the Louxurian, long after the male had lost interest in me.
It was not protectiveness—I wasn’t na?ve enough to believe Captain Ruciyah kept his hold for my safety.
But it took me longer than I would admit to remember this was a male who craved power, who wanted the world right there at his fingertips.
For now, regardless of how much he insisted he was not my master, his contract with Lunastra meant he owned me.
I was at his disposal, which meant in his mind I was his.
Beiste Lesephous’ lewd remarks were an offense to his ego.
As soon as the engines shut off, I jumped out of my seat.
Greabes, universe bless him, initiated the ramp sequence early.
I hopped the last foot or so before it had fully extended, wanting to be anywhere but near Captain Ruciyah.
A pulsing started in the back of my head, an instinct curling up my spine that told me to get as far away from him as possible.
Burn it to the ground.
Before I could reach my room, a hand closed around my elbow, spinning me in place.
“I’ve been calling for you,” Captain Ruciyah growled.
This was the male I knew, venom dripping in his voice and shoulders rigid with tension.
I jerked out of his hold, took a few steps back.
His chest heaved with deep breaths, hand trembling in the space between us.
But his fury stilled the rising tide in my body, giving me the calm I needed to relax my shoulders and lift my chin.
His arm fell back to his side. “We need to talk.”
My brow twitched, just a singular movement to convey how unlikely that was to happen. He’d spoken enough in the last few hours. I took another step back, never taking my eyes off the predator before me.
“Listen…I know—” A rumbling sound of frustration vibrated through the respirator when I took another step, then another.
After hesitating for less than a heartbeat, he followed, cloak billowing behind him. I didn’t run—some small voice in the back of my head told me to do so would be dangerous. But I increased my speed, keeping a hand at the wall so I wouldn’t careen into it as I walked backward.
“For once in your life, will you just listen?”
I stopped abruptly. The sentiment was laughable.
All I ever did was listen and I’d heard enough to last me a lifetime.
In that meeting I’d heard everything I needed to understand who I was to him and what this mission would be.
The universe was cruel and it had placed me into the hands of cruelness personified.
“You need to understand, those people—what we’re doing… I…” He blew out a breath and shook his head. “I know this was uncomfortable for you, but I had to do it, do you understand? What we’re working for…”
I pressed my hand to the control panel and slipped through my door before he could finish his sentence.
The minute I was on the other side I slammed the button to engage the lock.
I moved toward the bed, reaching for the clasps of the dress, but froze when his voice slipped through the crack, muffled.
The words were indistinct, but his tone was defeated.
Another trick, another lie, another crystal web he wove around us all.
The moment his heavy footsteps fell away, my shoulders dropped and I shook my head.
A tiny part of me repeated over and over: I can’t do this.
I can’t do this. I can’t do this. But I knew it wasn’t true.
I couldn’t remember a time when I’d ever done anything I wanted.
The only solace I had was deep within myself, sliding into that quiet place in my mind where nothing else existed.
So that was where I went with a few deep breaths, counting each item I could see in the room until even my heartbeat slowed. I unclasped the dress from behind my neck, mindful of the strands of stones as I slipped out of it and folded it on the foot of my bed.
And for the next few days, that was where I lived.
Sleep wasn’t a reprieve, in fact being awake was the relief I sought.
Because every time I closed my eyes I was there again, watching Captain Ruciyah discuss the destruction of my people with his superiors, the flippant command for everything to be destroyed ringing in my ears.
I woke often with my throat aching, wiping at damp cheeks, though I could feel nothing of what I’d experienced in those dreams.
I couldn’t feel anything at all.
From the crease between her brows as I gave her back the gown, Zoleka saw it, but if she said anything I didn’t hear it. Even at the meals I followed Greabes to, I barely heard the conversation around me. Something about a gala, something about fingerprints and replicas.
But it was just noise, the same as the hum of the environmental systems on Ebyd III, and the way the music, the moans, and the cries of the Daskquah had been.
And maybe Captain Ruciyah had been right.
Maybe I hadn’t heard anything since I’d lain within the undergrowth of my home tree and the ashes of everyone I’d ever loved had rained from the sky.
…
“Juniper?”
Maxtalen’s voice slipped through my door. I sat up, placing the book from Zoleka on the bed. He knocked, the sound tinny, and I stiffly made my way to my feet before pressing the release on the door.
He smiled down at me, smudges beneath his eyes and hair a bit rumpled. Vaguely I remembered a conversation about the work he’d been doing researching the security around the event we would attend. Something about alarms and lasers that had made the twins curse.
“I haven’t seen you around lately and I wanted to see if you would help me with something?” One of his shoulders lifted in question and he gestured to one of the control rooms stationed around the ship.
It was true—I’d stopped going to the common area at night for tea.
Maxtalen kept up a steady commentary at dinner, though I’d struggled to follow.
But he never appeared deterred, probably since he understood most questions he asked would go unanswered from me.
In fact, most of the crew had learned that.
The twins occasionally poked fun at how silent I was, often saying if they killed someone, they’d have me help destroy the body.
“Juniper?”
He’d asked me something but I couldn’t remember what it was. I nodded all the same, slipped on my boots and followed him out.
“I just need an extra set of hands on these codes to get through the firewall,” he explained, turning another corner.
He led me to the control room I’d seen him emerge from before.
It was dark, save for the screens projected from the desk, a small rolling stool haphazardly flung away.
Empty cups were stacked against the corner of the work station along with a few crumb-filled plates.
Shelves lined the far wall with broken pieces of coolant pipes and other tech gear haphazardly arranged.
The air was stale and heavy with the scent of sweat.
I looked up. The ventilation shaft was covered by a few boxes on the shelf below it, restricting the airflow of the room.
“Uh, here, have a seat.” He hooked his foot beneath the chair, dragging it to the desk.
I was careful not to touch the controls in front of me, a mix of buttons, symbols, and projected text on the metal, as I sat. Warmth splashed across my shoulder and I froze when he leaned over me, pointing to an indecipherable symbol. “I need you to hold this down until I tell you to, okay?”
Frowning, I pressed on the button. There had to be a way for him to do this without another person.
“Thanks, it’s just a bit finnicky and I only get one shot at this.”
Nodding, I tried not to move as he bracketed me in.
The quiet of my mind cracked as hot breath swirled the strands of my hair fallen from my braid.
Slowly, I forced my shoulders to release as I stared straight at the symbols running vertically across the screens.
But I couldn’t understand it, even with the Federation insignia appearing every few moments.
The only thing that kept me from flinging him back was that he didn’t seem to notice our proximity.
Maxtalen muttered under his breath about firewalls and the Maker-damned backdoors and something about Captain Ruciyah I couldn’t understand.
After another few minutes he sighed in relief, his head dropping to my shoulder.
A muscle ticked in my jaw.
“We did it,” he breathed, rolling his forehead back and forth.
The hands on the desk slid to my arms and suddenly the stale air was too thin to breathe.
Perhaps this was merely a sign of friendship amongst his people—a people I didn’t know the name of.
My instincts told me to run, to jab my elbow up into his face and get as far away from here as possible, but he was a part of Captain Ruciyah’s crew.
I had a mission and if I hurt Maxtalen everything I was working toward would be in danger.
I would have to find another way to ruin Captain Ruciyah and I wasn’t sure that was possible outside of this current plan.
“You’re a lifesaver,” Maxtalen murmured and my skin crawled at the flutter of his lips on the back of my neck, right above my brand. “You know, I never thought I’d be lucky enough to be here with you like this.”
I jerked back, heels digging into the floors, but it only turned me to face him. His cheeks flushed and one of his hands slid up to cup my face.
“I saw you, you know, over half a cycle ago before I joined this crew. You were always so beautiful up there, swinging in those silks. Maker, and I never had enough credits to even have your mistress consider even a few minutes with me.” A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth while ice crystalized the blood in my veins.
“But I knew if I just had time with you, you’d feel the same about me too. ”
My mouth opened to say something, anything.
All those practiced words Lunastra had taught me to say to clients if they somehow approached me.
But they were swallowed in the next moment by his mouth on mine.
His grip was tight on the back of my hair, tongue pushing sickeningly between my teeth.
The scent of stale tea and the musk of his body made me gag as he pushed closer.
So I bit down until the tang of his blood washed it all away.