“No.”
“Roslyn.”
He takes a half-step closer. I step back, ready to dart into my bedroom and lock the door behind me—like that would do a damn thing to stop him if he really wanted to come in—but he pauses mid-stride, halting his advance.
“We can help each other,” he says again, enunciating each word clearly. “You know what my aim is, regaining my position. Unless you’re here to start an interplanetary war or blow Eritin to bits or something equally stupid, then maybe I can help you achieve your aim as well. We can both leave with what we came for.”
“Noble of you. And you call me a criminal?”
He merely shrugs, and the casual nonchalance of it makes me want to scream. “Nobility always has a price. As a mercenary, I know that better than most. All that matters now is how high a price you’d name.”
No price.
There’s no price I wouldn’t pay.
But… trusting him? Working with him?
It feels like a bargain that’s doomed to fail.
I already made one bargain tonight, but agreeing to fake some sort of relationship with Zandrel—as convoluted as it is—seems so much more straightforward than… this.
I can’t let myself trust him.
This is all too precious, too precarious, too important.
Savvie is worth protecting at all costs. It’s what I’ve been trying to do since the moment I turned eighteen and enlisted.
Even before that, if I’m being honest, her safety has always been my number one priority. No one else in this whole wide universe was going to watch out for her like I could—our mother included—and the instinct to keep her as far from harm as possible beats as steady in my chest as a second heartbeat even now.
Too fierce, that beat, to trust this mercenary.
Despite a sharp, worming pulse of uncertainty, of doubt. Despite what I could almost mistake for sincerity in his tone. Despite the terrible whisper of temptation over what it would be like to have someone with his skill and resources in my corner, helping me find her.
I have too much to lose.
I retreat one step, then two, not giving him my back and never taking my eyes off him as I move toward my bedroom.
Mine. Not his. Not ours.
There are no cameras watching us here.
There’s no act, no pretense. We both know exactly where we stand in this bungalow, and he can fend for himself.
“Roslyn,” he says once more, but there’s a different note in it this time. Something lower and harsher, what I’d call a plea if I didn’t know better.
I don’t justify it with an answer, turning on my heel and retreating into the bedroom, shutting and locking the door behind me.
12
Zandrel
Mate Match Transcript: S24 E3 INTERVIEW 9
Contestant: Zandrel|Producer: Sella
S: Zandrel, I’d like to personally welcome you to the cast.
Z: [Inaudible]