She probably thought she was coming to save him.
Where the hell did Merona have Franno? And where was Agammo with the Premier? Now all their lives rested in the hands of a man who actually chose to wear sausage-curls on his head.
But even knowing all of that, every cell in his body practically vibrated with the knowledge that she was close.
The padded door opened with an airy hiss, and there she was.
Vaniiya, he’d missed her.
She walked in with her head high, as snooty and graceful as ever in the biggest, craziest dress he’d ever seen, blonde and fancy and prissy.
And that face. He’d forgotten. Well, no, he hadn’t. He’d seen her in her holo-vid every day—but no holo, no memory, no dreams did her justice. Klym in the flesh was a rare sight indeed.
She was wearing some shiny gray contraption of a dress that left her neck and shoulders and the tops of her breasts bare, and a part of him wanted to tackle her to the ground so no one else could look at her, but an even bigger part just wanted to strip her bare and get reacquainted with all the beautiful planes of her body.
Even in the harsh, ugly light, she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.
She looked back at him, and everything else just disappeared. She slayed him with those eyes, every time—even now when she didn’t look even remotely happy to be here. In fact, she looked damned pissy.
He shoved off the wall.
He was breathing fast, making a ton of noise through his nose. He flexed his fists in the cuffs and shouted around the gag.
Her eyes landed on him, her brows drawn together. “You shouldn’t have come.”
“Ughh rrrhhhgggg iighh rruuugghhh ruuuuu.” He tried shouting behind the ball-gag, but nothing but growls came out. It had been funny when he’d been just fucking with Merona, but not anymore.
He crossed the room, wanting to pick her up or kiss her or hug her, throw her out the door, anything. But he couldn’t do shit, so he just stood there, looming over her, glaring down, reminding her who she belonged to, his chest heaving, hoping she’d read the truth in his eyes.
I have a plan. You’re ruining it. Get out of here.
Merona watched them.
Spiro too. Tor sent him a long, scathing look. The fucker shouldn’t have brought her here. She wasn’t supposed to come.
No one spoke.
Klym gazed at him, her whole body shaking, just quivering like she was about to blast off.
“You shouldn’t have come, you stupid man. You’ve ruined everything.” Her face crumpled. Her hands came down to settle on his hips, and she touched her forehead to the center of his chest.
He couldn’t even hug her.
She was the one who shouldn’t have come here. He garbled that at her, using his knees and shoulders to herd her into the corner, where Merona couldn’t get to her. And because it was something he could do, he dropped his forehead to hers and leaned against it, so close that his ball-gag bumped against her chin, and their eyes were only an inch apart.
Merona cleared his throat. “Step away from him, Klymeni.”
She just blinked up at Tor, and his whole heart twisted.
“Now,” barked Merona.
Another slow blink of long, black lashes over wet, silver eyes, and she ducked low to escape him, and moved around him.
Tor grunted behind the gag, but they all ignored him.
“I’ll let him go, Klymeni. But you need to agree to Bond with Spiro.”
Her chin up, face as elegant and regal as ever. “Why do you hate me?”
Merona straightened. “I don’t.”
“This is hate, Father. What you are doing, right now. Forcing me to Bond with the wrong man. And this is the second time.”
Merona’s eyes, so like his daughter’s, widened, and he stared at her as if he were seeing her for the first time. His gaze roved along her face almost hungrily just for a moment before it hardened, and he looked away, his eyes settling on the wall. “I’m doing this to protect you from him. The Bonding will remove any doubts you have about Spiro.”
“Look at me.”
Merona slid his gaze back to her, then past her again.
“You can’t even do it. Can you? All you see is my mother.”
Merona’s face twisted at the word, his lips peeling back in a snarl, and for the first time, Tor felt bad for him. He couldn’t imagine what he’d become if he lost Klym and had to raise a daughter who looked exactly like her all alone.
“I know that.” Merona’s face turned red. “You’re stubborn and rash and contrary.”
Under any other circumstance Tor would have laughed. The man knew his daughter. But she was also sweet and kind and brave.
“And what? Mother just did whatever you told her to do?”
A ghost of a smile whispered across Merona’s face. “No. But with the Bonding, we understood each other. You’ll have that with Spiro.”
“I could have it with Torum.”
Merona’s brows lowered, his teeth baring. “I’ll see you both dead before I permit that. You choose, Klymeni. I will not see the memory of your mother destroyed by having you Bond with the enemy that killed her.”
Klym wiped at a stray tear. “Did she love me?”
The room was quiet for a long time, Merona staring at the floor, breathing through pinched nostrils, until finally, he looked up and held his daughter’s gaze. “Yes.”
She stared back, and some silent communication happened. Something Tor couldn’t begin to understand, but the rigidity left her spine, her shoulders just sagged.
“I’ll do it,” she said softly. “Give me your word you’ll take Tor to his ship and let him leave, unharmed.”
“No,” he screamed, but all anyone else heard was gibberish. He shook his head, shouting louder, but she shook her head tightly. Ruining the plan again.
Tor bucked at the cuffs, garble-shouting, but no one even looked at him.
Klym shook her short hair around her shoulders,
