Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
MURGUL
“I … do not … think this … is wise.”
I do not know why I am wasting what little voice I have. It is clear that my words are falling on deaf ears as far as my brothers are concerned.
Of course, it is not wise! They are sneaking off before any of their mates have gained consciousness for the rising!
What… hmmm… what is that word the feisty flame-haired one of Slavic’s used?
Ah, yes, pussies! Your brothers are pussies for slinking off into the darkness.
I have learned so many new insults from eavesdropping on those females.
It is not like I can plead a case for their mates. I am not exactly a cunning linguist, Vrog, and you should not listen to their private conversations! It is not seemly.
Frack off! I did not say you had to plead their case. Merely agreeing with you… again. That is twice in as many risings, and I do not care for it. Furthermore, nothing I do is ‘seemly’ as well you know.
“Murgul, did you hear a word I said?”
Unfolding my arms, I glare at Slavic from where I am standing in the cargo bay.
Vrog woke me when he heard a whisper of sound out in the corridor a span earlier.
The tic I exited my quarters, much to my surprise, I saw Slavic and Einar disappearing around the corner, leading towards the cargo bay…
where the shuttles are parked. The Zenith is not large enough to boast both a cargo and shuttle bay, so we make the space dual-purpose.
Years of arguing with Vrog while eavesdropping on outside conversations have honed my ability to multitask—perhaps more than any other skill I possess. Drawing on that hard-earned talent, I sift through Slavic’s endless prattle and force out a reply, even as my mind works elsewhere.
“Your females … will … not thank … you for … this.”
“Ruby may have agreed in front of the group, but she spent most of our private time trying to convince me to take her with me. When my mate gets something in her head, it is almost impossible to get her to change her mind. I am doing this to protect her, not to hurt her.”
Curling my lip in disgust at Slavic’s stupidity, I look at Einar and roll my eyes, my unspoken question clear.
He ruefully rubs the back of his neck with one massive hand before sighing heavily.
“Rowan is still terrified of many things, one of which is leaving this ship. The Zenith has become a sort of safety net for her, but even she pleaded her case to accompany me down to Deapra, no matter how distressing the thought is to her. We discussed it at length, and she agreed; however, I do not think she was as sincere as she wished me to believe. My little Starshine is many things, but an accomplished deceiver is not one of them.”
You are sure the Aynar forced increased intelligence into that freakishly giant head of his?
Not the time, Vrog!
I am merely asking a question pertinent to the matter at hand!
GAH! SHUT THE FRACK UP!
Tsk, tsk. Look at you, yelling at yourself.
Vrog’s maniacal laughter reverberates around my skull, but he finally falls silent.
Shaking my head at their shortsightedness, I turn on my heel and stalk out of the cargo bay.
I cannot force them to do anything they do not wish to do, and I am not going to cause myself needless pain trying to change their minds.
However, I do want to see the arse chewing their females give them when they are all reunited.
Yesssssssss, that will provide me with some level of entertainment. Since you will not let me kill anyone.
There is no one for you to kill!
I mean… should one of the females ask it of me… I would gladly beat respect into your brothers for their idiocy. A mate is everything.
Are you ever going to explain to me how you know of such things? Or how you even exist?
As usual, Vrog falls silent, refusing to answer two of the same questions I have asked about for orbital rotations.
You are not yet ready for that, Murgul. Soon.
Shock makes my steps stutter as I reach the door, and the flat surface glides open at my approach. That is the first inkling of hope I have ever had regarding my unwelcome mental guest.
Before I can make my exit, his scent hits me. Ruarc rounds the corner, and I hiss in response. His steps come to an abrupt halt, eyeing me warily.
He should be wary; were it not for my precious one, his blood would decorate the dining hall.
“Murgul… what are you doing?”
Refusing to answer Ruarc’s foolhardy question, I ignore Slavic and Einar, calling out to me from across the cargo bay as I stride towards my current least favorite sibling.
I make him nervous. The movement at his throat as he swallows betrays him.
Giving credit where it is due, he impresses me when he plants his feet, refusing to retreat.
Oh, has big brother finally grown some balls?
It would appear so.
Stalking forward, I do not stop until we are nose to nose.
Without warning, I headbutt him in the nose, satisfaction filling me when his blood scent hits the air before wrapping my tail around his neck and launching him down the corridor.
He slams into the wall next to the open door where Slavic and Einar are staring with wide eyes.
Ruarc groans as he unsteadily gets to his feet, one hand holding his bleeding—possibly broken—nose while he glares at me with vicious intent.
Looking down, I see the bag he dropped. Using my tail, I pick it up and throw it at him, and rasp out a laugh when it hits him in his battered face.
Turning to leave, I allow a smile to crease my face when his enraged bellow echoes down the corridor behind me.
Just before entering my quarters, the ship shudders beneath my feet, signaling my brother’s departure from the Zenith.
The gods of Ruk help them, for there is no netherworld like the ire of a scorned female.
They are so fucked.
‘Fucked?’ Is this another one of the humans’ words you stole?
I did not steal it. I merely borrowed it for long-term use.