Page 4 of Loving the Alien Spy

“You know I don’t.” I step back and she enters, heading straight for the sofa we’ve spent many nights on, talking about our lives back on Earth as well as the hopes and dreams we have for our lives here on Bohna.

I sit on the opposite end, but the sofa is really only big enough to hold three people at the most, so we’re still not far from each other. She tips her head back and rests it on the cushion behind her. Seconds later, her eyes close. I’m kind of glad she doesn’t appear to want to talk but, rather, really just didn’t want to be alone. I mirror her pose.

Within the silence, I do everything I can to forget about the day. But before long, the memories—both recent and past—come rushing to the forefront of my mind. I can’t shut out the images, and I can’t turn off the sounds.

It’s not until Devon squeezes my hand on the cushion between us that I realize I’m crying. Maybe she is too, but I don’t want to open my eyes. I want to think about happy things, not be reminded of the sad. Except that will never happen, because the sad never leaves. It hasn’t for ten years.

Chapter 3

Carrik

In complete and utter silence, I pace the length of my study. Shadows don’t make a sound after all. That is what I am. Nothing more than a shadow moving through the darkest nights. Always listening. Always watching. A noise from the other side of the closed door smashes through the silence like an anvil. Ivik walks through, carrying a tray of food as well as what appears to be a full vial of kanet powder.

“You need to eat,” he says, but beneath the gentle tone is a steely command.

A command only he can get away with.

“Just set it on the desk.” I don’t stop pacing.

Ivik does as I say, but then he turns toward me. “It wasn’t your fault, Carrik.”

I barely hold back the flinch his words cause, because I’m partially to blame for the deaths of our Bohnari brothers.

He loosens a heavy sigh. “What are you going to do about Bannik? You can’t keep him locked up forever.”

This time, I do flinch. “I have no intention of keeping him imprisoned longer than I have to. But there’s too much at stake right now to let him return to his duties.”

“He will hate you even more,” Ivik says.

I steel my spine. “There’s nothing else I can do about that. My brother has despised me for anums. We both know that will not change. Does it matter how much hatred a person holds for another?”

He sighs once more—it’s his favorite thing to do—and after I continue to ignore his penetrating stare, he slowly exits the room. Most likely waiting for me to stop him, even though he knows I will not.

The aroma of spiced tannek and sweet bread fills my study, but I leave the tray untouched. I have no appetite after the death and destruction of the previous day. I walk to my desk, however, and scan the parchment lying on its surface. Some may think this method of communicating is both risky and archaic, but that isn’t the case at all.

Every correspondence, every transmission, every conceivable communication is made through comms. Encrypted or not, they are able to be broken. Why in the name of our gods would we write and exchange sensitive and deadly secrets on a simple piece of parchment—regardless of the fact that they’re in code? Because no one would expect it.

Prince Alik’s name is nowhere on this, but it’s from him. He is the only Bohnari besides Ivik I communicate with. They are the only two beings who know who I truly am. And Alik is currentlylocked in a cell beneath the palace, struck with the madness that is the result of uncontrolled mating fever.

I understand why Horek or Queen Veroneek can’t do what needs to be done. That they are praying to our gods for a solution, but no one has ever broken through the madness of the mating fever once they’ve succumbed. By not doing what is necessary, the queen and her nephew not only prolong their suffering, but Alik’s too.

Right now, that is not my concern. No, my concern is Mohneek and her consort, Orvak. I have no doubts they are merely regrouping and biding their time before they lash out against the royal family once more. Except, with Janik no longer a pawn in her scheme, I can’t guess what she will do next. Our females are not struck with the mating fever, but a madness still the same drives her.

I toss the parchment into the fire and wait until it is nothing but ash before picking up the vial of kanet powder and pocketing it. At this time of night, the estate is quiet. The staff have all retired, and I am the only one who wanders the halls anyway. Everyone here knows not to disturb me during the rare times I am in residence. If they need something, they go through Ivik.

Once more on silent feet, I stride down each passageway to the lowest level. With every step I take, the air grows cooler. Damper. The faint scent of savina oil permeates the cracks in the floor. Many eons ago, it had been the primary source of fuel for the planet. Pockets of it remain buried deep beneath the earth and seep through the fabric of it.

Far too soon, I reach the room barricaded by a steel door. I key in the access code, and the copper light turns teal, signaling the locking mechanism has been disengaged. The door opens,exposing the interior. Within a large, transparent containment cube paces Bannik. He still wears his guard’s uniform, but it is disheveled and torn in places. A far cry from the crisp, wrinkle-free appearance he usually maintains.

His hair is a wild tangle, and there’s an edge to him I don’t remember being so evident before. He comes to an abrupt halt and whirls. Hatred flashes across his face, and he bares his fangs at me. At his sides, he clenches fists that drip blood from the puncture wounds his claws have created.

“Release me,” Bannik snarls—and not for the first time.

The mask I’d forgotten to don slides into place. “Unfortunately, I can’t do that.”

He jumps forward and slams both palms against the clear surface, smearing blood over it. “I said, release me!” His breath fogs it as his chest heaves with rage.

If the security footage hadn’t shown Bannik inhaling a dose of kanet power only a few short ticks ago, I would think he’s under the mating fever’s influence. But, no, this is pure hatred for me. If I still had a heart, it would break once more. I stride forward and slip the vial through a small hole in the wall. It rocks on the curved surface.