Page 49 of Galactic Sentinels: Vol. 1
He raises an eyebrow in that infuriatingly superior way of his. Ugh. He’s such a pain when he does that. But weirdly, I don’t feel like he’s trying to control me the way Henri used to. It’s different.
Then he gestures toward the project Wingo’s been guarding like a treasure.
“Look what I made,” he says. “Chocolate fudge.”
“I’m not lifting the ban,” he adds quickly, “so don’t even think about bribing me with that.”
“Isn’t it?” I tease. “Too bad there’s barely any left.”
I cut two generous slices from what remains and hand one to him with a smirk.
I hand a piece of fudge to Wingo and place the second one in front of me—right under Pherebos’s disapproving glare.
“Come to think of it…” he says, clearly indignant, “where on earth did you get chocolate? That’s from my personal stash.Personal, as innot for public consumption!”
Wingo freezes mid-bite, eyes wide. Then, slowly, he nudges his piece back toward Pherebos with his trunk, guilt written all over his face.
Oops. Guess I messed up. Again. Though this time, it reallywasunintentional. Henri would’ve punished me harshly for far less. But Pherebos just sighs, clearly exasperated, and grabs a spoon to finish the pastry.
That’s it? No yelling? No lecture? His features even soften as he takes a bite.
“Mmm. This is delicious,” he says, glancing at me with something that almost looks like approval.
For a moment, I forget to eat my own slice. Then I notice a faint smudge of chocolate at the corner of his mouth. He sees it too—and freezes, locking eyes with me.
“Welp! I’m going for a walk!”Wingo blurts out, bolting for the door like his tail’s on fire.
What? No! No no no—I don’t want to be alone with this man right now. I may fantasize about him more often than I’d like to admit, but that doesn’t mean I’m ready to fall under his spell. Especially not when he holds all the power.
We finish the meal in total silence. The tension is thick, and I’m not sure what to make of it. I’m not scared… but I’m definitely on edge.
Then Pherebos stands abruptly.
“I have a meeting with Akifumi in five minutes. I’ll take it in my room. I’ll see you later.”
I watch him go, suspicion creeping in. Why does he need to isolate himself just to take a call? Henri used to do that too—always hiding things, always keeping secrets. It’s not exactly helping me trust Pherebos unconditionally.
When I step outside the complex, I find Wingo sprawled out in the sun, looking completely at peace.
“Hey,”he says lazily, “did you finally get into a scuffle with Pherebos? I’m not surprised—your auras werethrobbingwith heat. Scorching heat!”
“Wingo!” I snap. “Reading our auras is just as invasive as seeing me naked! I’d appreciate a little privacy next time.”
“You’re out of your mind,”he says, unfazed. “How am I supposed tonotsee it? Your bond is like a beam of light shooting out of both of you. And sometimes it gets so intense…”
“What bond are you talking about?”
“Er… figure of speech! Just a figure of speech,”he says quickly, dodging the question. “So, where’s Pherebos?”
“Your good friend went off to have aprivatechat with Akifumi,” I say, my tone sharper than I intend.
“Don’t be upset. He won’t be long. These kinds of communications are always tricky.”
“But why keep it secret from me? Do you know what they’re talking about?”
“Not exactly,”Wingo admits. “But you’ve got nothing to fear from Pherebos. I promise.”
“What if he’s working with the Confederation to turn me in?”
