Human. Ha, ha. You’re an idiot, Naomi. He’s not human; he’s a Draekon.
“What?”
“I don’t really know you,” he says. “I need to get to know you better. For the mission.”
Oh. Disappointment stabs me. “Of course. For the mission. That makes sense.” I don’t know why I expected anything else. It’s not like Danek is interested in me, why would he be? I’m a forty-year old woman who’s afraid of her translator. Sure, he sat at my bedside when I was sick, but that’s just because he’s a good person. After all, he didn’t have to search for Cassie and me. He didn’t have to save us from the rogue scientists that tortured us, but he did.
But in my dreams, he’s always there for me. In my dreams, when I’m drowning, he extends his hand and pulls me to safety.
He returned your kiss yesterday. There was definitely some tongue action.
I shove that thought away. “Didn’t you read my file?”
“Your file doesn’t tell me things a bondmate is expected to know. What’s your favorite color?”
“Pink. What’s yours?”
“I don’t have a favorite color.”
“How predictable,” I murmur. “Let me guess. You’re too tough to have a favorite color.”
His eyes glitter with amusement. “Something like that.”
God, he’s sexy when he’s trying not to laugh. “Do you have a favorite food? Or do you chew rocks for breakfast?”
“Only the hardest of rocks,” he agrees, deadpan. “At the first sign that it has any flavor, I spit it out. Spice is for suckers.” He grabs a drone out of the air and offers me its contents. “Have you tried the sugar puff explosions at Fradish’s stall?”
“Spice is for suckers?” I laugh out loud. “Okay. Favorite drink?”
“The tears of my enemies,” he quips. “Though I wouldn’t say no to a beer.”
Argh. He’s so charming I have to bite the insides of my cheeks to keep myself from grinning like a fool. “Favorite flower?”
“Do thorns count?”
“They do not,” I tell him severely. “Favorite place? Favorite game? Favorite activity?”
His gaze caresses me. “I really don’t think I should answer that last one in public.”
Cassie is watching our conversation with rapt attention. So are other people. My cheeks heat. “Do you have any favorite things?”
“Things, no. People, yes.”
Oh. Oh. My fingers involuntarily brush my lips, and the memory of our kiss rises, unbidden. “You do?” I whisper. “Who?”
Before he can answer, his comm beeps. A hologram of Ruhan tears into existence in front of us. I jump back, my heart racing. I’m never going to get used to the tech here.
“Brothers,” he says, his voice urgent. “A pair of Class A destroyers just jumped out of the closest wormhole. They’re on their way to Bestea. They’ll be in range in less than two hours. Evacuate. Now.”
6
Naomi
Klaxons begin to sound. A loud voice fills the park. Tarish, I think. “The Empire is on its way,” he barks. “Commence evacuation protocols. Repeat. The Empire is on its way. This is not a drill. Evacuate immediately.”
Blood rushes to my head.
“Bast,” Danek swears under his breath. He takes a step toward me. “Naomi, are you okay?”
No. Klaxons would blare every morning in my cell, waking me up for a fresh day of torture. This sound is sending me back, and it’s taking all the strength I possess to keep standing. I want to run away, find a dark closet, and hide.
Nobody else seems to be panicking. If you are part of the rebellion, you must be used to this sort of thing. The drones are gone, the food stalls are packing up, and the park is emptying. People are moving at a fast walk, but no one is screaming, no one is running around in a blind panic, and no one is flipping out.
Just me.
You’re at the rebellion. You’re safe. The rogue scientists that tortured you are dead. Deep breath, Naomi. Breathe in for five, hold it for five, breathe out. Repeat.
It takes me almost a minute to reply. “Yeah.”
Danek doesn’t look convinced. “Are you sure?”
This time, my reply is stronger. “Yes. What should we do?”
“Stick to the plan. The Empire’s timing isn’t coincidence. They’re hoping to weaken the rebellion before this year’s Testing.” He flashes me a reassuring smile. “Cindifin’s shuttle to Noturn leaves from the Wekat Exchange. We’ll just head there early. My ship is ready. I just need to pack some weapons, and then we’ll leave.”
Why won’t the alarms stop? The noise, shrill and relentless, is burrowing a hole in my head.
“Naomi,” Danek says. “Listen to me. Can you pack your belongings and meet me in the docking bay in a knur?”
I give him a blank stare.
“Fifteen minutes,” he clarifies. “Is that okay? Do you want me to come with you?”
The alarms stop abruptly, and sweet silence fills the air. The clamp on my brain eases its pressure. I replay Danek’s end of the conversation. He’s staring at me with concerned eyes. He doesn’t think I can pack on my own. That’s how he sees me, frail and fragile. That’s how useless I’ve become. “Of course not,” I say stoutly. “It won’t take me any time to get my stuff. I’ll see you at the docking bay. What’s the name of your ship?”
“The Aheat,” he replies. “You’re sure?”
“Absolutely.”
The klaxons start up again as soon as I enter my apartment. “This is not a drill,” a voice drones. “The Empire’s ships are on their way. Attack is imminent. Please follow the evacuation protocols.”
God, I hate the alarms. Doing my best to ignore the noise, I pull a duffel bag from the bottom shelf and set it on my bed. The wall has sixty-one charcoal scuffs on it. If the Empire’s soldiers sweep the place, what would they make of the markings? Or would they not even bother to land on Bestea, choosing instead to bomb it from the sky? I don’t know.
Move, Naomi. You
