Rosalie
“We won’t be gone long,” I say to Della, who has a lip on her which I fear might turn into full blown sniffles. “And Dart is going to be here the whole time.” I nod over at Dante’s second in command who is leaning against a wall, his arms folded.
“Don’t want Dart, want you,” Della says.
“But Dart gives you snacks.” I lean in a little closer. “And he told me he’d help you climb the wall in the atrium,” I whisper.
Her eyes glow for an instant, but then she remembers she’s supposed to be upset.
“I’ll bring you a present.” I change tack, knowing I am making a rod for my own back.
“What will you bring me?”
“What would you like?”
Della thinks for a moment. “A pikrat.”
“Um…I don’t know what one of those is, but I’ll do my best.” I pull her closer for a hug.
Della is a great hugger, although, as is always the case, hug one, hug all, and I am piled in on by the rest of the sarkarnlings.
“Rosalie?” Dante’s deep voice growls through the air, and almost instantly I am abandoned as they head for him instead.
“Guess where I was?” I grin at him.
Dante has sarkarnlings hanging off every part of him, including his tail and wings. He looks absurd, and Dart is absolutely cracking up, whilst still trying to maintain the air of a warrior.
My Sarkarnii warlord gathers them all up and gives each one their own hug before setting them down on the floor. Of course, they scatter, like they always do, meaning a number of warriors, including Dart, are scurrying after them.
It would appear chaos warriors don’t need just structure but responsibility for chaos in order for them to have a better quality of life.
I’ve certainly seen the difference in Dante’s crew in the last few weeks. Not that there isn’t still complete mayhem most of the time, but there are fewer alarms, more smiling faces, and, as far as I can tell, less use of the narcotics which made them partially what they were.
Now Dante has his shiny new scout ship, he’s hoping to finally secure what he needs for a complete cure, at least to his crew’s risk of regressing to being entirely feral.
I, for one, don’t mind a bit of a feral Sarkarnii on occasion.
“Come, heartsfire.” Dante holds out his hand to me, and I take it. “Let’s go see the stars together.”
I am escorted on board the scout ship, passing through an airlock which closes up behind us like an iris, and there are vibrations under my feet.
The ship is sparing no time in leaving.
Dante leads me down a wide passage where off to the left and right are crew rooms, a dining area, and storage, where are a number of warriors preparing for the flight, and into the wide open bridge area.
Ahead of us is a wide window, stretching, I presume, the entire width of the ship itself. We are already on the edge of space, a bright blue line delineating the end of Vorostor with the blackness of the vacuum itself.
I come to a complete halt, unable to tear my eyes away as we lift above the atmosphere and the light disappears, only to be replaced by the twinkling of stars.
“It is beautiful, is it not?” Dante leans into me.
“I haven’t seen it…like this,” I croak out because my throat has gone suddenly dry. “Only from an escape pod.”
Dante nods soberly. “Escape pods are not for those without a warrior’s heart,” he says. “You did well, my little flame.”
I have a burst of warmth around my heart. An acknowledgement my experience was unpleasant and a sweet compliment I probably don’t deserve.
But I’ll take it anyway.
“Here,” Dante says, his fangs in evidence and his teeth rather gritted as he ushers me further forward beneath the vast window and gestures to one Sarkarnii warrior. “This is our pilot, Dyle.”
The pilot’s eyes flicker swiftly to me before they are instantly facing forward again as a growl rises within Dante.
“And over here is our navigator, Dakkan,” Dante continues, even while he also keeps up the growling, which is pretty impressive.
One by one, I am introduced to the flight crew, all of whom give me terrified glances before pretending to be very busy.
As Dante suggests we take a seat out of the way of the crew, and with the growl still in his throat, I cup his chin with my hand.
“If you thought this was going to be hard for you, why did you bring me?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“I am in closer proximity to your warriors than ever. You haven’t stopped growling. I presume this is to do with your rut?”
“Rut,” Dante rasps under his breath. “Mine.” He wraps an arm around my waist.
“Why, Dante,” I trill. “You want to take me to our quarters? I’d love that.”
Dante blinks at me. I press a kiss to his chin and feel the way his knees dip.
“Yes,” he growls.
I’m absolutely sure I hear a collective sigh of relief across the bridge.
“Comm me when we’re within three light years of the planet,” Dante snarls generally at his crew. “I will be in my quarters…with my mate.”
Without any ceremony, I’m scooped into his arms, and without a single care, Dante doesn’t walk…
he runs. Absolutely no shame whatsoever, and I find I’m laughing out loud at his enthusiasm and his entire lack of decorum as he pounds through the ship to the rear, doors opening and closing until he comes to a halt in a room which is almost entirely circular.
And the doors close behind us.
There is a depression in the centre, as with all Sarkarnii quarters, but what captures my attention is the huge window, an almost mirror of the one on the bridge.
Space is vast. I could feel very small, but I’m here with my big, bad Sarkarnii warlord.
I am anything but small.
“Now I have you all to myself and an entire voyage ahead of us,” Dante rumbles in my ear.
“Oh dear, what will we do with ourselves?”
I feel, beneath me, his hips swaying from side to side.
“What’s happening, Dante?” I ask, my hand on his jaw.
“I want to dance for you, little flame. I want to make you mine.”