His tail twitched again, the barb scraping against his leg. He needed to undo the bindings, purely to alleviate the ache. Not to impress this female. She might flirt shamelessly with him, but he was not interested in a sandy-colored liar and thief.
“Entry into the atmosphere can be turbulent. Use these handles.” He pointed to the nylon straps attached to the wall near the bed and the chair she occupied.
“Sure. That’s what those are for.” She twisted her hand in the strap and gave a tug, then winked. Had her eyes always been the refreshing blue of an oasis? That strap might as well have been attached directly to his cock from the way his body responded.
Fuck.
The cabin was too small. He needed out. The scent of night blossoms carried on the wind from a lush oasis clouded his mind. He couldn’t breathe.
“I have to pilot the ship. Now,” he announced, walking away with dignity and repose because he refused to flee the presence of the annoying attractive female.
The faster they completed this mission, the better.
In the pilot’s seat, Havik fell into the easy rhythm of waking the ship. Despite his initial doubts, Ren’s heap of scrap metal turned into a decent vessel. As if designed just for him, everything he needed to fly smoothly lay in easy reach on the console. For that alone, he would ignore the low ceiling and creaking chair.
He signaled station control to depart. While waiting for clearance, he wondered how Thalia viewed the vessel. Did she see beyond the ragged appearance to find the unpolished gem? Admittedly, he had difficulty at first, unwilling to believe a vessel retrieved from the junkpile could be functional, let alone superior to previous ships he had piloted.
Ren grabbed Havik’s elbow, spinning the chair around. “What is going on with you?” he hissed.
“Nothing. Unhand me.” Havik yanked his arm free.
“You’ve been obsessed with finding your Vanessa for two years. We receive word that she is attached to this warlord’s clan, you cannot find a reason to join his clan fast enough, yet you failed to attend the meeting with the warlord with no warning and no excuse. What was I meant to tell the warlord? Several hours later, you show up with a new female. Explain.” Ren kept his voice low, to prevent being overheard.
“She is no one.” An alert from the console snagged his attention. Station Control indicated that they were free to disembark. “Sit. Unless you enjoy falling to the floor.”
“Do not ignore the question. What happened with Vanessa?” Ren neglected to fasten his safety harness, a subtle gesture that spoke to Havik. Whatever hard feelings remained between the friends; Ren had confidence in Havik’s piloting skills.
The navigational computer handled departing the station. Havik set a course to land on the planet’s surface and, once again, the computer took control. He kept a watchful eye over the monitors, ready to manually land the ship if need be.
“Vanessa has a new mate,” he said. “It is for the best.”
“What? For two years, it has been nothing but my mate from you.” He pitched his voice low in a mocking tone.
“And every time, you correct me that she is my former mate,” Havik snapped. He loved Ren dearly as a friend, but the male’s constant correction and picking away at Havik had worn down his patience. “I walked past Vanessa in the station and did not recognize her.”
“How is that possible?”
Havik kept his eyes forward, on the console and not on the pitying gaze of his friend. “Because I am the selfish male you have always claimed. I never knew Vanessa. Never cared to. If she were meant for me, truly my mate, I would have known her in an instant, despite changes to her appearance.”
“You did care for her.”
“I cared for the prestige of having a mate.” Havik paused, gathering his thoughts. Ren had a quick wit, could bounce from one topic to the next and run loquacious circles around Havik. Normally this amused him, but it made it difficult when he needed to speak carefully, and Ren wanted to discuss a dozen topics at one.
“I am concerned—”
“Enough,” he growled, warning that his patience was at an end.
Ren tapped his fingers on the arm of the chair, then finally pushed himself away. “Do not let the female distract you from our mission.”
“I will not.”
The lights from the console cast a golden glow to Ren’s normal blushing red complexion. His body tensed and his mouth opened as if he had something to say, but then he slammed his mouth shut. “See that it does not,” he said, leaving the helm.
Havik would not be distracted. They needed to complete the mission and win a place in a new clan. Though he was happy on their little ship, he knew Ren needed more. The isolation wore on him, and even if he did not admit it, he craved a mate. Their ship was no place for a mate and family.
There. It was decided. He would not fail. He’d bloody the water to lure out the scum who dared to abduct females from a Mahdfel-protected planet.
Oh. Chummy.
A slow grin spread across his face. He got it now.
Chapter 9
Thalia
The cabin was lovely, if impersonal. The space had been intended for someone other than Thalia. She noticed the way Havik tensed up the moment she touched the bed. No one got that tense when company set their bag down on the guest bed. So, perhaps someone intimately connected but why Thalia was there, and they weren’t was not her business.
The only item of any real interest in the cabin was the moisture-sucking plant. The notion of taking that plant that could suffocate you in your sleep and squeeze you dry like a sponge and putting it in a planter to use as decoration was about the most Mahdfel thing she’d ever heard of.
Aliens were so weird.
She held onto the strap next to the comfy chair
