Page 91 of Exiles on Earth
Still, he doesn’t let go. And then I realize: I asked him to walk me to my rooms earlier, and he took that as an order.
“Ilia, put me down. You don’t have to take me anywhere, you’re free to go.” Fuck, I messed up big time.
Slowly, he sets me on my feet, scales flickering pale blue. “El-len, I… I can escort you back to your rooms to change.”
I should say yes. I want to. But what if this is obligation, not choice? What if he’s only doing what he’s been trained to do? I have no doubt if I ordered him upstairs he would come, but I don’t want that.
He told me he wanted a female, a mate. One of his own. I should respect that. The All-Mother said I shouldn’t draw attentionaway from his big moment, and I shouldn’t distract him, either.
So even though it shatters me inside, I turn away. Rain washes over me, chilling my skin and the warmth he stoked in me. “I’ll be okay. I’ll go see what she wants, and you can resume the Games.”
“Finally.” The golden guy pushes past Ilia to walk next to me, leading me to the elevators. Every step feels cold, like my feet are far away, but it’s for the best. Really. I don’t dare to reconsider, or I’ll break and run back to him.
On the way, two familiar snouts push through the foliage. ‘What trouble have you gotten into now?’ Floss sighs in my mind.
I press my hands to my face. “Not right now,” I whisper to her as we enter the elevator and I drip rain all over the plush floors.
Rex and Floss trot in after me, the latter wagging her tail as she butts my trembling hand with her head.
‘What’s wrong? Why is there a new smelling male here, and where’s Ilia?’
“I… I have to let him go,” I tell her, wrapping my arms around my chest.
The guy next to me gives me a cursory glance, shifting his weight from foot to foot as the elevator rises smoothly. Finally, with enough distance, a glass wall and a drop between us, I let myself look for Ilia.
He hasn’t moved, staring up at me from the garden. Water streaks down his face, catching on the sharp edges of his jaw, his collarbones. His hands, curled loosely at his sides, flex once before stilling. His scales shift—stormcloud gray, a flicker of white—then settle into brown and peach. The garden’s soft glow reflects in his blue eyes, but he doesn’t blink, doesn’t move, just watches, as if he’s memorizing me.
I press a hand to the glass. One word, ‘stop’, and I can goback to him. But while our worlds collided briefly, he wants to forge a different pathway, build another life.
And I know I have to let him. He said goodbye, and now I have to. Before I ruin his chances at the Games.
The elevator doors slide open, and I start. Shara’s apartment is at the top, but we’ve only risen a few floors.
Two males get in, golden crests raised, and I swallow. Hard.
“El-len the Earthling,” they intone, but it’s not a question. They know who I am. Floss and Rex’s hackles rise as they growl.
The male who led me here shoots me a sorrowful look. “We have orders from our beloved mate. You are to come with us now.”
I curl my hands into fists. I guess whoever this bitch is, she’s insistent.
TWENTY-SEVEN
ELLEN
And this bitchis hella expensive, too.
The desk in her office is a fortress of polished wood so dark it gleams like obsidian, the surface dotted with holographic screens that flicker off the moment I’m led inside. She wears a gown of shimmering gold layered with red, the sheer fabric rippling like flames. Her every move exudes control, her gaze sharp as a blade.
My escorts bow low and retreat without a word, leaving me to face her. I fold my arms tightly across my soaked robes, water dripping onto the pristine floor.
Floss growls at my side, a rumble that resonates through the room.
The woman’s eyebrows raise, the first time her expression changed since I was led in. “Greetings, starhounds,” she says in English. “Are you here to speak with me?”
Rex flicks his tail with utter disdain and turns his back on her. I wish I could summon the same confidence, but my nerves have a vise grip on my chest. Wrapping my fingers into Floss’ fur, I wait.
Still watching me, the leader of the females removes a golden circlet from her head, setting it down on the desk with aclink. “Sit. You won’t need that invention Imaya gave you, I can speak your tongue.” Her tone is an order, not an invitation. “Chai tea?”
