Page 32 of Havik: Warlord Brides
Ren grabbed Havik’s elbow, spinning the chair around. “What is going on with you?” he hissed.
“Nothing. Unhand me.” Havik yanked his arm free.
“You’ve been obsessed with finding your Vanessa for two years. We receive word that she is attached to this warlord’s clan, you cannot find a reason to join his clan fast enough, yet you failed to attend the meeting with the warlord with no warning and no excuse. What was I meant to tell the warlord? Several hours later, you show up with a new female. Explain.” Ren kept his voice low, to prevent being overheard.
“She is no one.” An alert from the console snagged his attention. Station Control indicated that they were free to disembark. “Sit. Unless you enjoy falling to the floor.”
“Do not ignore the question. What happened with Vanessa?” Ren neglected to fasten his safety harness, a subtle gesture that spoke to Havik. Whatever hard feelings remained between the friends; Ren had confidence in Havik’s piloting skills.
The navigational computer handled departing the station. Havik set a course to land on the planet’s surface and, once again, the computer took control. He kept a watchful eye over the monitors, ready to manually land the ship if need be.
“Vanessa has a new mate,” he said. “It is for the best.”
“What? For two years, it has been nothing butmy matefrom you.” He pitched his voice low in a mocking tone.
“And every time, you correct me that she is my former mate,” Havik snapped. He loved Ren dearly as a friend, but the male’s constant correction and picking away at Havik had worn down his patience. “I walked past Vanessa in the station and did not recognize her.”
“How is that possible?”
Havik kept his eyes forward, on the console and not on the pitying gaze of his friend. “Because I am the selfish male you have always claimed. I never knew Vanessa. Never cared to. If she were meant for me, truly my mate, I would have known her in an instant, despite changes to her appearance.”
“You did care for her.”
“I cared for the prestige of having a mate.” Havik paused, gathering his thoughts. Ren had a quick wit, could bounce from one topic to the next and run loquacious circles around Havik. Normally this amused him, but it made it difficult when he needed to speak carefully, and Ren wanted to discuss a dozen topics at one.
“I am concerned—”
“Enough,” he growled, warning that his patience was at an end.
Ren tapped his fingers on the arm of the chair, then finally pushed himself away. “Do not let the female distract you from our mission.”
“I will not.”
The lights from the console cast a golden glow to Ren’s normal blushing red complexion. His body tensed and his mouth opened as if he had something to say, but then he slammed his mouth shut. “See that it does not,” he said, leaving the helm.
Havik would not be distracted. They needed to complete the mission and win a place in a new clan. Though he was happy on their little ship, he knew Ren needed more. The isolation wore on him, and even if he did not admit it, he craved a mate. Their ship was no place for a mate and family.
There. It was decided. He would not fail. He’d bloody the water to lure out the scum who dared to abduct females from a Mahdfel-protected planet.
Oh. Chummy.
A slow grin spread across his face. He got it now.
Chapter 9
Thalia
The cabin was lovely, if impersonal. The space had been intended for someone other than Thalia. She noticed the way Havik tensed up the moment she touched the bed. No one got that tense when company set their bag down on the guest bed. So, perhaps someone intimately connected but why Thalia was there, and they weren’t was not her business.
The only item of any real interest in the cabin was the moisture-sucking plant. The notion of taking that plant that could suffocate you in your sleep and squeeze you dry like a sponge and putting it in a planter to use as decoration was about the most Mahdfel thing she’d ever heard of.
Aliens were so weird.
She held onto the strap next to the comfy chair as the ship departed the station and waited until the computer gave the all-clear. When it became obvious the ship wasn’t going to fall apart and no one would visit her cabin, she unpacked her toiletries.
The temperature was on the warm side but not suffocating. She’d be wearing short sleeves and no layers.
A brief expedition down the corridor led her to the cleansing room. The shower stall was massive, large enough for three people, and spotless. She wasn’t sure what she had been expecting. With two bachelors on the ship, something horrific that had never been cleaned. Nope. Wear on the fixtures spoke to the ship’s age—ancient—but the scent of disinfectant hung in the air. Her alien shipmates took care of their ship.
