Page 44 of Ren: Warlord Brides
“Excuse me?” She’d heard old superstitions about twin babies bringing bad luck, but Emry attributed it to the burden of having extra mouths to feed, but no one had ever told her she was unlucky.
“Apologies. Twins are considered unlucky because of the strain placed on the mother.”
“Well, Gemma is my twin and we’re not unlucky, but she is—”
The tablet beeped with a message.
Unbelievable.
“We have a window to depart. Let me set the course and I will return. Is there more omelet?” He gave what was probably meant to be a charming smile but was all teeth and tusk.
“Sure. I can make another.”
He stood and leaned down, as if to kiss her on the cheek, but hesitated. Instead, he placed the tablet on the table.
“I will return,” he said, before departing.
Emry wrapped her hands around the mug, letting the heat seep into her fingers.
This was nice. This could work.
She didn’t wake up yesterday and think,“It’s a good day to reconnect with my estranged alien husband,”but she was rolling with the punches. Ren seemed sincere, and when he got back, she’d explain about the situation with Gemma. He wouldn’t brush away her concern. He’d take her seriously. The Mahdfel protected their families and Gemma was his family now.
The tablet’s screen flickered to life with a notification. Reflexively, she moved to dismiss it, but the image made her pause.
Pashaal.
Chapter 9
Emry
She flipped through image after image of Pashaal, taken in a variety of locations, all surveillance photos. Pashaal’s estate. Her official Council office. The ship. Emry scrolled through the images and written reports until she found a photo of herself.
Outside on a warm day, Emry served shot glasses filled with chilled soup. She remembered that event. The heat and humidity of the day made her hair frizzy, and Pashaal insisted that her human cook be the one to serve, despite being dead tired.
Emry dropped the tablet like it scalded her.
This was reconnaissance. Ren had a file on her shady boss.
Everything he told her about making amends and wanting a second chance was all a lie.
Shock ran over Emry like an upended bucket of freezing water.
Ren hadn’t been on Pashaal’s ship for her. He was… what?
Yes. He had pictures of her. But did he realize it was her? He walked right past her. She sought him out.
No. Emry dismissed that outright. Four years was a long time, but her most distinctive characteristic—her scar—hadn’t changed. There was no mistaking her. This file proved he knew of her presence. He just wasn’t there for her, like he claimed.
Yet he had spun a very convincing story, most likely on the fly, and she believed him.
Yes, she sought him out, intending to seduce him into finding Gemma, so fine. Fault on both sides. But he said he wanted her back, that he had grown as a person and regretted how they ended before they even had a chance to start.
Worse, she believed him. Every word.
Emry drummed her fingers on the table. He wasn’t going to help her. She would ask, and he’d say it interfered with his mission or whatever the hell reason he was snooping on Pashaal.
“Well, this is shitty,” she muttered. “What would Gemma do?”
