27. Lorken
Lorken
It was almost infuriating that the human was standing and conversing with her friends as if nothing was amiss. As soon as I’d spoken, they’d all jumped and stared at me like children who’d been caught doing something forbidden.
I took in the huddle of them, my gaze locking on Athena standing in the middle of them, unhurt, her chin tipped up like she was trying to be defiant. My pulse quickened at how magnificent she looked when she was challenging me.
The relief that crashed through me upon finding her safe was short-lived.
I had torn through the ship expecting to find her hurt or wandering, but instead she was talking about me with her friends and sharing details about my quarters.
It was as if the warbird hadn’t been screaming with alarms only moments before.
I schooled my face, so my relief didn’t show. I could not afford to release even a sigh with my majak at my side. I also could not afford the anger that flared hot within me at overhearing her friends refer to me as a barbarian.
The orange-haired man had the good sense to go pale when he’d realized I might have overheard him, his mouth opening and closing like a Venga sucking fish.
Despite my irritation at the tone her friends had taken when discussing my sleeping arrangements, that did not needle me as much the fact that they clearly did not trust my intentions.
I knew that I’d been sent by Raas Wrexxon and had taken the mission because of what our Vandar brother had promised Athena. Besides, a group of actors from an occupied planet had no right to question a Raas of the Vandar, even if they might be right.
I bit back the retort that danced on the tip of my tongue. There had been an explosion in my munitions hold. I did not have time to defend my honor or my sleeping choices to a theatre troupe who knew nothing of me or my people.
Before I could speak again, Athena stepped toward me. “Is everything okay? Why were the sirens going off?”
I gave a brusque shake of my head. Everything was not okay, but I did not have the time to go into all the thoughts tormenting my mind about her and her lineage. “There was an explosion in the munitions storage.”
Color drained from her face. “An explosion? That sounds serious.”
“It is,” my majak growled before I could respond.
“Do explosions happen often?” Athena’s voice was less confident, and her friends seemed to shift closer to each other.
“Never.” The word came out sharper than I’d intended, edged with the fear I had not let myself feel when I was searching for her. “Not on my ship. Not before today.”
A ripple of nervous murmurs went through the group. I hadn’t meant to cast aspersion on her and her friends, but it was clear they understood what my word implied. Not before you arrived. Not before I took in refugees.
Athena’s eyes were unblinking, and she licked at her lips as I refused to release my grip on her gaze.
Dawz’s voice was a low rumble at my side. “Raas, we should go. Zarn is waiting for us. You should be there.”
Not here were the words he didn’t speak and didn’t have to.
He was right. Every second I lingered here was a second I was not with my battle chief analyzing the site of the blast. Every moment delayed arguing with Athena was one more I was not where a warlord should be when his ship had been wounded.
As much as I knew that, I could not simply leave her to find her way back to me in the chaos. Not with raiders sprinting through the corridors and the origin of the explosion unknown.
“Athena.” I said her name calmly, but she stiffened at the sound of it, as if expecting a rebuke. “You should come with me. The ship is a maze when it is calm. I will not have you wandering it while it is not.”
“I got here fine on my own,” she said.
I gritted my teeth and forced my voce to stay calm. “But that was before the alarm.”
She hesitated and I watched the internal debate play out on her face. She clearly hated the thought of giving in to me, but she was weighing it against arguing further. She huffed out a breath. “If you insist.” Then she turned to her friends. “I’ll see you later. I promise.”
I did not miss the looks that were exchanged between her friends as she stepped toward me. They were worried and suspicious, but I found I did not have the patience to care what they thought of me.
I did not offer my arm because I doubted she would take it, but I led the way with my majak bringing up the rear.
We moved briskly through the corridors that grew thicker with smoke the farther down in the warbird we descended, the acrid tang of it stinging the back of my throat and burning low in my chest.
Athena didn’t complain, although I heard her breath catch more than once, and she pressed her hand to her mouth as we passed through a haze thick enough to blur the steel walkway in front of us.
I resisted the urge to slow my pace for her.
Not only did we need to reach the explosion site, but she would also not thank me for treating her like glass.
Still, when we crossed the last swinging bridge before the floor that contained the munitions hold, I rested my hand at the small of her back. Not to steady her or urge her forward, but because some primitive part of me needed to remind myself that she was mine to protect.
Whirring vents had thinned out the smoke near the hold enough so we could clearly see shapes.
The first ones I made out were a handful of my raiders clustered around the scorched entrance to the munitions bay, the kilts and bare chests smudged with soot.
Beyond them, arms crossed and tail lashing behind him like a blade slicing the air stood my brother.
Zarn’s face didn’t hold the easy, needling grin I’d grown accustomed to enduring since childhood. It was solemn and drawn tight across features that were entirely serious.
“Well?” I asked him, my voice pitched to travel no further than the space between us. “What happened?”
His menacing gaze did not go to me. It went over my shoulder to Atena and held there long enough that I noticed her bristle.
“Enemy sabotage,” Zarn said, his voice as clear and bold as his implied accusation.
As I stood in the remnants of an explosion, the scent of char sharp enough to choke me, I did not know what infuriated me more.
Was it that my own brother would look at Athena and see nothing but a Zagrath’s granddaughter and a convenient scapegoat or that some traitorous corner of my own mind, the same mind that had been convinced that blood did not determine fate or loyalty, had not been entirely certain I wasn’t making the biggest miscalculation of my life.