Spiro may have behaved with perfect manners according to their people, but that didn’t mean she had to accept his troth. Not after years betrothed to Agammo.
“He’d have died for you.”
“Maybe, but not actually because he cared about me. All I was to him was duty. That’s not love. I don’t want to be someone’s duty.”
He just kept slogging over the powdery terra.
“So you gave a knife to a stranger and left him bleeding on the floor without a second glance. For love?” His voice cut as deep as knives, tearing into every guilty thought she’d ever had about their escape.
“For love, maybe. But also choice. Walking away from that bleeding man was the hardest thing I have ever had to do, but, yes, for my freedom, I did it. Do you know what it means to Bond with an Argenti? It’s forever. It’s a soul bond.”
The water in the bottle sloshed angrily as she threw out her hands. “Did I consider the politics? Yes, in fact, I did. And you know what I decided? I didn’t care. Two old politicians want to convene to continue a war between Argentus and Vesta? Let them use some other woman to do it. It’s not my war.”
He made a face like he was thinking about what she said. “Whose war is it, then?”
“My father’s war. My whole life it’s the only thing he’s ever cared about. Revenge for my mother.”
The body rocked on his back. “I think you just saw a chance to get away and you went for it.”
She forgot about her burning feet and stormed up to his side. “You know nothing about me.”
“I don’t need to, amiera. I had you figured out the first minute I saw you.”
“How exactly is that?”
His lips curved wryly, his face shadowed by the hat, but he didn’t break stride. “You lived in a polished, pretty palace, and this is probably the worst thing that’s ever happened to you, right?”
“Of course, it is! I’ve never been anywhere. Am I to be punished for having been secluded all my life? You see protection in that. I see imprisonment. My every choice was taken from me. From the moment of my birth.”
“You made choices. You left Spiro for dead, and ever since, you’ve been playing games with me, silent treatment, picking flowers, toying with your stupid fucking holo-cam, and worrying about your hair.”
“He’s not dead. And as you said, it was his freedom or mine. It wasn’t fair what they were asking of me.” The ship came into view, flickering on the horizon like a great black beetle.
“Fair.” His voice was as snide as his face. “An ideal exclusive to the young and the stupid.”
“I’m not stupid.” She wasn’t. She’d done wonderfully in school, excelled at every subject, breezed her way through all her courses. Especially filmography. Her instructors had always said she was talented. Her hand went automatically to the holo-cam in her pocket.
“You didn’t even question what I’d do with that knife. Or how we’d get off the ship. For all you knew, I’d have dumped the lot of you in space. You risked everyone’s life on your evaluation of my trustworthiness after a two-minute conversation.”
“But I was right,” she shouted.
“Were you? Spiro would disagree. I still might dump you into space.”
“And in your expert opinion, what exactly should I have done?”
“Stayed with your future-mate like a good little girl. Safe and protected.” With the glasses on, she couldn’t read his expression, but his voice was hard and cold and merciless, jaw tight and angry.
“You’d have me live my life as someone else’s property? That’s not fair.”
“Fair.” He rounded on her. “Fair? You think the dead guy on my back cared about fair? You think Spiro woke up with his neck torn out and whined about what’s fair? Trust me. He won’t.” His lip curled, and his words came out like lashes, hard and cutting to the bone. “He’ll stand up, dust off his boots, and he’ll go about his life just like any other day because he’s a fucking adult, and adults don’t whine about fair and choices and freedom. You made your choice. You took your freedom from Spiro with me and a knife. So, own it. Start taking some responsibility for your life. Quit whining if I don’t like you for it.”
“I am an adult and I do not whine.” She spat it out and reached out to grab his wrist, force him to face her.
He threw his hand out, slapping away her touch so hard she lost her balance and nearly fell. Even with the body on his back, he moved fast, rounding in on her, his face so close to hers that their hats bumped and her insides quivered in fear.
“If you were mine, I’d...” he bit off, mouth tight, and jerked his head away in the direction of the ship. He shook his head and let out a derisive laugh.
She had to run to catch up to him, voice raised in frustrated outrage. “Go ahead! Finish your thought. If I were yours, you’d what?”
He snarled but didn’t stop walking. If anything, he was moving faster now, clouds of powdery soil rising up to his knees. “If you were mine, I’d spank your pretty ass until you cried yourself sick, and you wouldn’t even try to fight me anymore because you’d understand, deep down in your guts, that you deserved it. Because then you’d understand consequences. I’d fuck you until your whole world shrank down and all you saw was
