Page 30 of The Price of Peace
Prince Friðrik turned from the pilot’s console, his voice carrying across the bridge and answered. “For now? We’re going to Lithoria, where Varroc’s army will keep you both safe, while we plan our next move.”
“And we plan how to kick Yogurt’s ass once and for all,” Peace One added.
I wasn’t sure anywhere would ever be safe again. But for the moment, we had won. I leaned back in my seat and smiled at Xyrox. It was enough for now.
18
EPILOGUE
The stars stretched in long, silver lines beyondVictory‘s viewports as the ship cruised through hyperspace, bound for Lithoria. The glow of the controls and the quiet hum of the engines filled the air, a stark contrast to the chaos of just a few hours ago.
I leaned against the railing of the ship’s observation deck, arms folded, watching the endless expanse ripple before me. Xyrox stood beside me, his brilliant green eyes reflecting the celestial light, his presence an anchor in the turbulence of my life.
I wasn’t used to anchors. Or to being taken care of.
But I had to admit, it didn’t feel bad.
Behind us, laughter rang out.
“Okay, okay, so let me get this straight …” Peace One gestured wildly, nearly knocking over a tray of drinks as she giggled hysterically. She plopped down onto her mate’s lap, draping herself across Varroc like a blanket. He adjusted slightly witha slight grin on his face, like a giant boulder shifting to accommodate her boundless energy.
“She’s exhausting,” I muttered under my breath.
Xyrox smirked.Yes, but entertaining.
I nudged him with my elbow. “I heard that.”
His smirk widened, but he said nothing aloud. He didn’t have to. Our bond was new, but already, I was growing accustomed to the warmth of it—the quiet, constant presence of his mind touching mine. It was intimate, reassuring.
Of course, I would never admit that out loud.
You don’t have to. I can hear you.
I shot Xyrox a dirty look.Way to ruin the moment, big guy.
“So, you”—Peace One pointed at me with dramatic flare—“were raised on a desert planet. And I, a promising Hollywood starlet, was snatched from Earth and thrown into a space opera. Amazing. We’re like the galaxy’s worst sitcom setup ever.”
I didn’t know what half those words meant.
Varroc’s enormous hands settled casually over her waist as she sprawled against him. “What is a space opera, princess?”
“You know,” she waved a hand. “A story with evil overlords, galaxy-spanning conspiracies, secret twins—clones in this case—space battles, forbidden romance. You get it, babe.” She waggled her eyebrows at him.
“And what part would you be playing in this … opera?” Xyrox asked dryly.
“The comic relief, obviously.”
Prince Friðrik snorted from where he leaned against the bulkhead, a drink in hand. “NowthatI believe.”
Peace grinned at him, then looked back at me. “Andyou, well ...“ she regarded me thoughtfully. “You’re like the super tough chick in act one who doesn’t let anyone in. But by the finale, after much brooding and several near-death experiences, you learn that love is the answer.”
“I think I’m allergic to whatever you just said.”
“Denial,” she sing-songed.
Xyrox tilted his head, his amusement sliding through our bond.She’s not entirely wrong.
I shot him a look.You don’t understand half of what she said either.
