Page 23 of Vindicated

The warlord hadn’t broken his side of the deal as far as I could tell, but it was also abundantly clear that he could if he desired. Who would stop him?

I took another bite of stew and washed it down with the tart wine. The only armed people on board the warbird were his raiders, and they appeared to follow his orders without question. If he decided to keep me locked away in his retro barbarian room, there was basically nothing I could do about it.

After spending most of my life avoiding being controlled by anyone, but especially men, it was galling to think I might have run right into a trap. But what choice did I have? Stay in Kashara and die? Leave my friends behind to be slaughtered by the Zagrath? That would have been worse. At least this way I was safe.

I let my gaze wander to the furs, and unbidden images of Lorken’s naked body sprawled on top of them flooded my brain. I groaned and pushed aside the traitorous thoughts. Was I safe?

After eating my fill of the savory stew and pillowy bread, I drained my wine. At least I was eating well, as I’m sure my friends were. I eyed the door again, wondering what Lettie andVallia were doing and wishing I was sharing a room with them, even if it was smaller and less luxurious.

I stood and crossed to the door, my bare feet cold on the glossy floor. I held my breath as I touched my hand to the door panel like I’d seen Lorken do, sure that it wouldn’t open. Locking me inside his quarters seemed like something a warlord of the Vandar would do if he made you agree to be his war bride, so I was shocked when the steel door glided open.

I poked my head out, the hush of the room suddenly in stark contrast to the echoing booms and rattles of the warbird. Then I realized that I was only wrapped in a towel and jerked my head back inside. I remembered how to retrace my steps to Lettie and Vallia’s room—and even to the corridor containing the guys’ rooms—but there was no way I was tramping around the ship in nothing but a swath of fabric as a dress.

When I took a few steps back from the door, it shut again, sealing me in and blocking the cacophony of the warbird. I breathed a sigh, glad that I wasn’t as much of a prisoner as I’d thought and grateful for the quiet.

Lorken had been right about one thing. It had been a trying day, and I was suddenly overcome by exhaustion. A yawn creaked my jaw, and I didn’t fight it. Between the stress of the attack on Kashara, the jarring escape onto the Vandar ship, and almost drowning, my body ached all over.

I didn’t want to fall asleep, but I didn’t think I could stop myself. Maybe if I let myself take a nap, I would wake up before Lorken returned. The thought of him coming into his quarters and finding me asleep made my heart race. I wanted to believe that he wouldn’t take advantage of me, but I’d known too many men. Lettie had always called me cynical, but I’d learned the hard way that truly honorable men were not as thick on the ground as they wanted us to believe.

But then I remembered my wet clothes in the bathroom. I needed those to dry unless I wanted to spend the rest of my time on the warbird wrapped in a towel. I crossed to the arched doorway and hurried inside, grabbing my wet clothes and shooting a dark look at the water that had bested me. Then I returned to the main room and draped them over the back of one of the dining chairs.

Struggling to suppress another yawn, I took slow steps toward the platform covered with furs and cushions, knowing that I had little choice. My eyelids were leaden, and my thoughts were sluggish, as I lowered myself onto the far side and curled around one of the larger pillows. The towel stayed snugly wrapped around me, although the fur was soft against my bare shoulders and exposed calves.

As my breath lengthened, I rubbed my legs against the fur, pleasantly surprised by how downy soft it was—just like Lorken had promised.

Lorken. I turned his name over in my mind as I drifted to sleep, hoping I dreamed about anyone but him.

Chapter 16

Lorken

“Back so soon, brother?” My battle chief’s lips twitched as he turned at my approach, his heel-tapping salute delayed. “I did not expect to see you again before first watch.”

I spared Zarn only a flick of my eyes as I strode onto the command deck. “I wanted to ensure that our departure was clean and all our horde ships undamaged.”

Zarn nodded in a way that told me he believed not a word. Yet another problem with working with your brother. The infuriating Vandar knew me too well. There was nothing like a younger brother for knowing every tell, every expression, every tone of voice—and for letting you know it.

I clenched my teeth to keep from snapping at him. “Tactical report,” I barked to the nearest raider.

“All systems functional, and all weapons at the ready, Raas.”

I gave him a brusque nod and pivoted back to face the wide view of space that curved around the front of the space.

“Yourmajaklaid in a course to rendezvous with Raas Wrexxon,” my brother said, disapproval tinging his voice.

“And you disagree with this because….?” I asked in a voice so low only he could hear me over the beeps and bursts of static.

“We should have requested that the other hordes meet us so we could join forces and take out the Zagrath menace on Gollun Prime.”

At any other time, I would have agreed with him, and a part of me hated that we’d left the fight. But another part of me remembered that our mission had been to save those who’d helped Kolt and Skye. Risking them in battle was not an option.

“Ourmajak was following my orders,” I told Zarn. “We cannot always be a deliverer of destruction to our enemy.”

My brother growled in response, his opposition clear.

“How long until we rendezvous?” I asked, shifting the conversation.

My battle chief huffed out a breath. “One cycle at the most.”