Page 87 of Lorran
“You are leaking because you are sad,” he said, sounding completely like an alien who had never encountered human emotions.
“I’m not crying, and if I was it’s because I’m scared and frustrated and tired and maybe my blood sugar is crashing, and all of this is a perfectly reasonable reaction. I’m not…I’m not a soldier. I’m a fucking painter. This is too much, Lorran.”
“You are correct.” He rummaged through the med kit and produced a ration bar. “Eat.”
“I think I’d rather be emotional,” she said, but tore into the ration bar. It tasted like sawdust, but she dutifully chewed.
He moved her to sit in his lap, safe in the security of his arms. “You did not lose me.”
“But I will if you keep leaping before you look. And all this has been a typical day at the office for you, hasn’t it?”
His arms tightened. “No. Not typical, but I hear your words. I will think before acting.”
“And wear your damn armor,” she muttered, but she didn’t think it would be enough. This is what Lorrandid. This was his purpose, and the anxiety and the stress would tear her apart. She didn’t know if she was strong enough to face what it meant to share a life with a Mahdfel.
Chapter 18
Lorran
Wyn eventually wore herself out scolding Lorran, listing the various ways he would get himself killed because he wastrifling,and she was not incorrect. He had a habit of acting rashly. Instinct guided many of his actions, but instinct did not consider consequences.
He needed to be a cautious male. He had a mate who ordered him to return.
She slept, sprawled out over several seats with her head in his lap. He combed his fingers through her curls, listening to her breaths and light snores.
Angry words came from the helm.
“I am telling you, if you do not act now, we will lose the trail,” Caldar said.
“Saavi requires urgent medical attention. Med Orbital Five is the nearest medical facility. I have already charted the course.”
“The stasis chamber will keep her stable for days. Think of it. An active Suhlik hatchery. How pleased will your warlord be when you deliver those coordinates?”
There was silence, as Mylomon considered.
“This is a rescue mission. We go to Med Orbital Five,” Mylomon eventually said.
Caldar pulled his shoulders back, standing at his full height. He no longer looked the frail and aging Mahdfel that Lorran first encountered. Anger flashed in Caldar’s eyes. “You are not my warlord.”
“No, I am not.” Mylomon met Caldar’s cold gaze with ice. His dark eyes held nothing, no spark of life at all. “But I am in command of this mission.”
“You are on my ship, and I go where I please.”
“I commandeered this vessel, and it is now under my command.” Lorran had overheard the conversation where Mylomon forced Caldar to transfer the command codes. Caldar had expressed his disdain with choice words.
“If you think I’m going to quietly wait for Paax to show up and decide my fate, you are misinformed,” Caldar said.
“No. I expect you to scurry away at the first opportunity because that is what vermin does,” Mylomon replied.
“My mate is sleeping. This is unproductive arguing,” Lorran said.
Wyn’s breathing changed, indicating that she was awake and listening.
“I am not arguing,” Caldar said, continuing the argument. “I am astounded by this male’s lack of creativity. Don’t you want to know where you come from? Don’t you want to find those responsible and hold them accountable for what they did to you?”
Mylomon said nothing, staring darkly at Caldar.
“You’re not even the only one. Did you know that? Ulrik and Saavi recovered genetic material from the eggshells, and they found a match. Aren’t you curious?”
