Page 40 of Warrior's Reign
As she left, she put a comm through to Icolo. “There’s a development. This is what I want you to do.”
If Vykhan wanted her to flush out traitors in the palace, she would. But she would be the one at the helm, even if he didn’t know it.
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Another male might have refusedto face himself. Vykhan was not a weak male. He analyzed his actions, theemotionsthat led to his decision to intervene unnecessarily in the altercation.
He had watched the male approach. Correctly interpreted body language, and Reign's expression. Her flat eyes and insolent smile, along with the edge of weariness in her posture.
The male had put his hands on her.
She'd responded as any of his warriors might, clearly capable of handling the situation. Or else she would notbeone of his warriors, whether hisBdakhunbid it or not. Ibukay's safety came before her heart.
The surge of cold anger when the male touched Reign spurred Vykhan's actions before he controlled himself; that was how often he experienced a lapse in his self-control. He had not even realized he was moving until his hand was around the male's neck, tossing him aside like a rotten hunk of meat.
So. It was beginning again. This break. He had known, of course, and hadn’t bothered to waste hope that this time he would escape.
Staring at Reign's profile, he knew he would not.
* * *
There was nothing left to do after the mark made contact, so she stood up to leave and didn’t have to feign intoxication. She’d overdone it, and not exactly on purpose.
She asked the bartender for a shot of the complimentary sober up. He pricked her upper arm and by the time she was out of the front door, her steps were steady again and she no longer looked like prey.
Which was almost a pity, since she was in a mood.
The moment she crossed onto palace grounds, her wrist unit blinked with coordinates; a silent summons to Vykhan’s office. She rerouted her steps. Damn him. She wasn’t ready to report. Wasn’t ready to look into his face and see either the knowledge of their attraction tonight—or his rejection of it.
She must still be drunk.
The chime sounded, and the door panel slid open. Vykhan stood behind his desk, looking down at the inset console. He flicked a hand and a digital screen rose into the air. It went dark, at least to her. From his eye movements she could tell he was watching something.
She stood at attention, gaze trained over his shoulder.
“When I left,” he said, “you were approached. The conversation was blocked.”
Reign pursed her lips. “So they either made you, or as a matter of habit they carry tech capable of scrambling palace devices.”
“Either possibility is disturbing.” His tone didn’t encourage further speculation.
Reign shrugged mentally and launched into a succinct but thorough report of the conversation.
“And your conclusion?” he asked.
“They’ve indeed been watching your people to decide who’s the weakest link. When I arrived, attention would have immediately shifted to me. Who’s the human, how’d she get on? They would have discovered my prior friendship with Ibu—”
His mouth thinned slightly.
“With theBdakhun, and would think to use that against me. My career record wouldn’t be too hard for a skilled tech to dig up on the datasphere. I buried everything under enough layers that only someone who knew what they were doing could find the data. Clients need to be able to vet me, after all.”
He continued to watch her, his hand resting on the desk. It felt familiar, this scenario. “Make yourself approachable should they choose to follow up. We will continue our own internal investigations now that we have a lead on his identity. He was under guise, of course, but we believe the voice print is genuine.”
“When you say make myself approachable—”
“Play the role of the discontent human who fails to understand true honor and loyalty. Tell none of the others.”
She grimaced. “That’s going to rankle. I won’t make any friends.”
