Page 42 of Ren: Warlord Brides
“She seems happy,” Emry said, settling for a neutral comment.
“She is very content. She often sleeps in exposed locations, so I know she feels safe in her environment. She also enjoys sitting in boxes.” The absolute pride and joy Ren had in his cat came through in his tone.
Damn him for being adorable.
“She sounds like a good cat.” Murderous, but that was the default cat setting.
“I did not think I would enjoy having a companion animal,” Ren said, “but Havik convinced me otherwise.”
“Havik is your friend?” Emry recalled the name, but exhaustion blunted a lot of the finer details of the last day.
“Yes. You will meet him when we arrive at our next destination.” Ren paused. He ran a hand through his hair, somehow making it messier. “I recall your arrival.”
“I bet I made an impression.”
“Before your arrival, my father told me you could not stay.”
“Say what now?” Emry propped herself up on one elbow. The blanket slid down, exposing her shoulder. “I don’t think I met your father. It was just you, the medics, and that one guy with the scary face.”
“The warlord.”
“Yeah. That was the one you told the story about? At dinner?”
Ren nodded.
“What was his deal?” Emry remembered that a large male shoved his way into the hospital room, glowered with disapproval, and then stomped off. She could believe that guy played mind games with the people under his command. He seemed like the kind to get off on abusing power.
“You were Terran. So fragile that you immediately required medical assistance,” Ren said.
“Not a fan?”
“The warlord disapproved of Terran mates as a policy. Many warriors were ordered to reject their mates or leave.” Ren leaned forward, reaching for her hand. He paused, giving her an uncertain look. Emry extended her hand and wiggled her fingers. He clasped them gently. “The warlord saw a weak female in the care of the medics. If I had known you were ill before you left Earth, I would have fought for you to remain.”
His eyes, that warm color, pleaded with her.
“But you didn’t fight for me,” she said, not asking a question.
“No, to my shame.”
She sifted through all the bits and pieces of information he had given her over the last day. The warlord had a grudge against him. Human women were weak. She had been ill, therefore weak.
Excuses, yes, but understandable. He had been in an impossible situation. Sending her away might have been the best option.
“It wasn’t my scars?”
“I have told you, no,” he said, his tone firm.
“I was just a weak female.” Discounted and discarded for things beyond her control. The rejection still hurt.
His grip tightened on her hand. “I do not believe that, but understand that only weeks before your arrival, the mate of the warlord’s son, a Terran female, lost their child. Rolusdreus is not a forgiving planet. It is harsh and demanding.”
All Emry had seen of his home planet was a hospital room and what she could see from the passenger seat during the drive to the spaceport. What she saw was a lot of rocks and domed cities.
“The domes are because of the radiation?”
“Yes. My physiology is immune to radiation poisoning, and the average civilian has some tolerance, but the domes allow radiation levels to be controlled in habitats. Everything and everyone goes through a decontamination process.”
“Sounds like a charming place.”
