Page 10 of Songbird
“Is Kayzon still here? On the space station?” Was there any way he could make me leave with him—a question I felt too terrified to ask aloud.
“Yes,” Praxxan said in an apologetic tone, coming to stand by his wife with a plate of food in his hand. “But he will be under detention until this matter is settled.”
Tarrick’s hand slid up and down my spine. It felt nice, if not quite as comforting as before. “Don’t worry, Izzy. I won’t let him get near you.”
“We may not have a choice,” Jala groaned, flopping into a nearby chair. Praxxan followed, perching on the arm of his wife’s seat.
“The hell we don’t,” Tarrick growled, his body tensing while his tail whipped angrily.
Exhaustion and worry dripped from Jala’s deep sigh. “Kayzon has asked for an Alliance conciliator to settle the matter. He will be here in eight days.”
“What’s a conciliator?” I didn’t recognize the word, but I didn’t know if it was because of translation or because most of my vocabulary came from song lyrics.
Jala steepled her fingers under her chin. Even at this moment, when my own safety took precedence, I found myself struck by her beauty. Tall, svelte with piercing golden eyes and dark hair that she wore in a platted array atop her head.
“The conciliator is a member of the Alliance judiciary staff,” she explained. “He’ll examine the basis of Kayzon’s claim, plus whether the mating between you and Tarrick is true.” Her gaze shifted to Tarrick and narrowed. “Which it isn’t.”
“And if the conciliator isn’t convinced Tarrick and I are mates?” The question sent a chill down my spine, but I had to know.
“Then he’ll likely declare Kayzon’s agreement valid, and you will have to leave with him to honor the commitment.” Her expression softened with regret.
“No.” The idea was unthinkable. I started trembling, itching to run like when I was a little girl, and my mother wanted me to perform some awful song for some awful people. Only this time, there was no reaching the sanctuary of my grandfather’s house, nowhere at all to run.
Tarrick’s strong, comforting arm slid around my shoulders, pulling me close to his side. He felt warm and strong, and in that moment, the fear that strangled me began to seep away. I felt his heartbeat reverberate through his chest, steady and reassuring. Tarrick would keep me safe. Despite having just met him, I somehow trusted that.
“Don’t worry.” His lips were close to my ear, stirring the hair at my temple. “That will not happen.” His gaze settled on Jala. “So, we have to convince some Alliance flunky that we’ve mated. I’ve convinced much scarier people of much scarier things. This will be easy.”
“Easy?” Jala rolled her golden eyes. “The conciliator is trained to ferret out truths and settle disputes. You won’t convince him by plying your roguish charm over a hand of cards and a bottle of Verdesian ale.”
“You think I’m charming?” Tarrick teased, drawing a smile from both Jala and me.
“Let’s face it, Tarrick. Your reputation precedes you,” she scoffed.
“Reputation?” Unintentionally, the word escaped my lips, my mind replaying the description that Lucy and Aqsa gave me of Tarrick.
“I am known to be a bit of a playboy,” Tarrick admitted with a shrug, the color of his cheeks deepening as if the admission shamed him deeply.
He certainly was handsome enough to be a playboy. While his leather jacket covered any hint of his musculature, it couldn’t detract from the broadness of his shoulders or his tall stature. His eyes reminded me of melted chocolate, deep and alluring, framed by high cheekbones, a wide, flat nose, and a defined jawline. His thick mane of wavy hair shone like bronze with subtle veins of gold, perfectly complementing his lightly tanned pelt. It was as if someone had transformed Mufasa from “The Lion King” into human form... well, almost human.
Despite what Lucy and Aqsa said about him, Tarrick didn’t come across as a playboy to me. He treated me with such a sense of sweetness and genuine care. He seemed completely besotted with Priemba, and despite the current underlying tension in the room, there was an undeniable depth of affection between Tarrick, Praxxan and Jala. Most playboys I’d come in contact with tended to be self-centered and unfeeling. And that didn’t seem like Tarrick, not at all.
“A bit of a playboy?” Jala snorted in amusement. “Tarrick of House Asad, the male never known to bed the same female twice, is now going to try and convince the universe that he’s found a mate. A human one at that.”
“Stranger things have happened.” Praxxan playfully nudged his wife’s shoulder with his elbow. “Look at your brother.”
From my time aboard theBardaga, I knew that Jala’s brother Jutuk had mated with Pearl, the chef and founder ofSpace Pearl’s.
Jala huffed at her husband but couldn’t stop the smile that curved her lips—or dim the worry in her golden eyes.
“We could send Izzy back to theBardaga,” Praxxan suggested another option. “Or maybe we could just hide her somewhere until Kayzon loses interest.”
Jala groaned on the heels of an aggravated huff. “You know the issues the Alliance is having with the Kerzak, especially those that disagree with newly crowned prince Alokar and regent Vienda’s peaceful policies. If the station is accused of subverting Kayzon’s legal claim to protect a human, it could damage us in more ways than one.”
Praxxan took in his wife’s words with a solemn nod. “Then my brother and Izzy must find a way to convince the conciliator they are truly mated,” he said and rose, returning to the buffet.
Jala studied both Tarrick and me in turn before settling her golden gaze on her brother-in-law. “Did you consider what this little performance will do to your cover as an operative? We’ll need to let Siemba know what’s going on.”
Cover? Operative? There was apparently much more to Tarrick than I realized.
