Page 6 of When the Universe Sings

To callthe rooms Lunastra used for private entertaining opulent would have been an insult to the lush fabrics and swaths of metals and gemstones that glittered in the halo orbs. This room was all a gauzy white and made Lunastra, of course, appear as though she too was a gemstone nestled within clouds, with her deep purple skin and crystal gown.

The Quinzyr male she entertained, however, looked like a smudge of ink within an otherwise pristine world. He had not even removed his hood and stood in the center of the room, hand resting on the hilt of the dagger strapped to his side, while Lunastra draped herself across a frothy couch. She grinned at him in a way that made it clear whatever she was hoping to gain, she would win by the end of the night.

At the sound of the door opening, she rose sinuously, circled the couch and extended a glittering hand. “Dearest, you look lovely.”

The gown Lyrace had dressed me in was as black as the clothes the Quinzyr male wore. I’d kept my hair loose, and Lyrace had fluffed it until it was wild and waved down past my shoulders, the red sheen of it catching in the light. The male did not so much as move as I approached, but I felt his gaze track from the draped fabric across my breasts down to the swell of my hips and up again.

“I would like to introduce you to an old friend of mine. This is Captain Asher Ruciyah and he is here to meet you.”

He huffed a laugh, and I wondered if the helmet pitched his voice lower. Captain Ruciyah shook his head, the hand hanging at his side flexing.

“I am not interested in paying for the secrets of the flesh,” he rumbled, and I was positive then the mask altered his voice. There was no way it could be real, as dark and resonant as it was.

I lifted my chin, ice cracking through my gaze as I assessed the male. Lunastra, for all her talk of my bookings, had never once sold my body for credits. It was something she could have done at a snap of her fingers for clients who would have had no qualms taking what they wanted despite my fighting. Based on the guards on Ebyd III, I was sure the elite of our galaxy enjoyed when their prey put up a fight.

I had not been as confident tonight when Lyrace had dressed me in a gown that somehow left me more exposed than the suits I danced in. A small knot in my chest loosened at the captain’s words even as my almost non-existent pride reared its head. But Lunastra only chuckled, running a long-fingered hand over my bare shoulder, and guided me closer.

“Well, then it’s good that our Juniper does not peddle such things,” she crooned, gesturing toward the seating area she’d been lounging across. “Sit, Captain, before you break something.”

Reluctantly the male followed, sitting on the edge of one gilded chair as if it might shatter beneath his weight, hand continuing to rest on his dagger. But my mistress was all smiles and relaxation as she drew me onto the couch beside her, a hand possessively wound around my waist. I had come to accept these touches as part of her role as the mistress of the house and had learned from her that a touch could send a message.

“How old are you?” he rumbled.

“She is twenty-seven cycles.” Lunastra’s hand slid up to my hair, slipping it off one shoulder to expose my collarbone.

Captain Ruciyah stilled, only the slightest twitch of his head indicating his attention had slipped to my mistress before moving back to me. “Do you have much experience traveling through the quadrants?”

“She has not?—”

“Let her speak,” he snapped.

Silence crept heavily in the room and I took a deep breath, forcing my hands to stay still on my lap even as indignation at his tone made the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. Lunastra, however, appeared pleased by his outburst for some reason.

“I have not traveled at all through the quadrants, save for my time with my mistress,” I rasped before clearing my throat. I would have to do my best impression of the speech patterns those from the high-class planets preferred.

The Quinzyr male rested his elbows on his thighs, the movement highlighting the breadth of his shoulders. His dark cloak slithered around him and I wondered why he kept it and the helmet on. Perhaps it felt safer for no one to see your face and read your expression.

I didn’t have the luxury of Uhkazant metal to cover mine.

“Where were you before this?”

It was my turn to assess him and I tilted my head in imitation. “What is it you want from me?”

Lunastra shifted, her lips parting, but he held a large hand up to silence her. Heat prickled on the back of my neck and discomfort crawled up my spine. It was something about the timbre of his voice, the quickness of his movements—as if he could have just as easily snapped her neck as silenced her with a gesture.

“Where were you before this?”

I didn’t answer. We stared at each other for a long time as the question hung between us. Lunastra smiled a secret smile, hereyes flicking between the two of us. But I wouldn’t answer any of his questions, not when each one felt as if he was flaying me open with the dagger on his hip.

Finally, he sighed, the sound distorted by the mask. “I’m looking for a final member for my crew to assist in finding something very valuable. Something the entire universe is looking for—but I have to get to it first. Luna told me she had someone who was one of the best climbers she’d ever seen, adaptable and tough.”

You, he didn’t say, but the uncertainty was still there. As if seeing me in this gown made him second-guess everything she had said.

“I have no use for pampered yeskas.”

When I didn’t respond, his hands clenched into fists before releasing. From the corner of my eye, Lunastra grinned slyly and tapped a claw-like nail across the back of my neck.

“I’m out of options.” He said it like a weakness, staring down at his gloved hands as if he might find a better one between them.