Page 78 of Havik: Warlord Brides
They meandered through the market square, stopping to purchase fritters studded with bits of fruit. The scent of fried fritters and fat positively enchanted her, but that wasn’t a surprise. Everything about this trip felt enchanted. Thalia knew they existed in a bubble, a rare moment when the real-world responsibilities did not matter. At least not yet.
She worried about what life would be like when they joined theJudgment. Or, in her case, returned to the battlecruiser. Would they look at her with scorn for jumping into a relationship with Havik? Would they hate her because she was human?
No. She had been on theJudgment. They rescued her pod and had treated her with nothing but kindness.
The grumpy doctor crossed her mind.
Okay,mosteveryone treated her with kindness. The nurse was human and very patient as Thalia worked through her confusion and panic. Plenty of women, some human and some alien, had roles on the ship. The atmosphere had been positive. Thalia might not know much, but she knew to listen to her gut, and she knew when people were bad news. If Paax’s clan had secrets, they were well guarded. She believed theJudgmentto be a good place.
And because her mind was always working on contingency plans—hello, how else does a street kid survive on their own?—she wondered what she would do once they got to theJudgment. Reading books all day and watching movies was all right for a holiday, but part of her was already growing bored. She wanted to be useful. How to be useful, unfortunately, proved harder to discern.
Thalia pushed those thoughts out of her mind. They had no place in the honeymoon bubble.
Havik led her into a section of town they had never ventured into before. The buildings appeared worn and less cared for. Paint had faded under the relentless sun. They passed a rough archway, the stones looking far more ancient than the surrounding buildings.
“Is that an entrance to the tunnels?” she asked.
They watched the super long documentary on the history of Rolusdreus. Initially, she did it to humor Havik, but she found herself sucked into the story. The planet essentially had a civil war and nearly nuked themselves out of existence. Generations lived underground in tunnels and bunkers, all the while tweaking their genes to adapt to the new environment topside.
The tunnels saw use again during the Suhlik Invasion. Just when the planet finally got its act together and started to repair the self-inflicted damage, it got the snot beat out of it by the Suhlik. Somehow knowing that Earth was not alone in being self-destructive lifted her spirits. These aliens were as fucked up as humanity.
“Indeed, but I do not recommend a casual visit. The tunnels are in ill repair and unsafe.”
“Have you explored them?”
“Certainly, as a child. It was educational.”
She rolled her eyes. The safety standard for her was super low while his was set sky-high.
They entered a shop. Art decorated the walls. Behind the counter looked, for lack of a better word, like a tattoo parlor.
A male sporting sleeves of ink greeted them. Yup, totally a tattoo parlor. Escorted back to a booth, Thalia perched on a stool while Havik unbuttoned his shirt. He wore a loose-fitting tunic made from a soft navy-blue fabric. It draped loosely across the front and buttoned at the shoulder. It was a style she saw on many of the locals. Havik explained that the garment could be wrapped tightly for the cold, had a hood to protect from sand and wind, and fit loosely during the heat of the day. She rather liked the casualness of it on him, but she also enjoyed the way the fabric slid off his shoulders.
“Greedy female,” he said, his voice amused.
“Sorry, didn’t realize you were stripping in public now,” she snarked back, thoroughly enjoying the view.
The tattoo artist filled a shallow dish with a white powder and told her to place her hand in it.
“What’s going on?”
“You marked me with the blood of your enemy. I have never received so high an honor,” Havik said.
“You’re getting my bloody handprint tattooed on you?”
“Yes. Unfortunately, you marked my armor so we will have to recreate it.”
She nodded, something in her chest expanding to the point of pain that felt a lot like love. Fucking romantic alien, making her wanna cry.
He guided her hand into the chalk and pressed it against his chest. Glancing down, he nodded with satisfaction. The tattoo artist set to work.
“That’s it? I thought it’d be more…something,” Thalia said, watching the design take shape. “Will it be the same as your others?”
The artist tapped one of Havik’s arms. “That’s my work here, that coverup. The ink is a special formula that will react with the Mahdfel bioluminescence. You won’t notice any difference from what you would get from your clan.”
Thalia peered closer at the design on his arm. The ink blended perfectly with the rest of the design, flawless, even. She knew from firsthand experience that it glowed just as brightly as the rest of his tattoos. “I can’t see a difference. It’s gorgeous.”
“The difference is I no longer bear the markings of my father,” Havik said without a trace of bitterness. His dark eyes shone, like he had more to say but he would save his words for private.
