Page 14 of Nansar
Silence stretched between us. His jaw worked as if he were wrestling with the words, and when he spoke, he let out a breath that might have been a laugh if it hadn't sounded so tired.
"Honestly?" He dragged a hand through his platinum hair, and something flickered across his face—vulnerability, maybe. It looked foreign on someone so formidable. "I'm making this up as I go."
My eyes widened. "You're what?"
"Making it up," he repeated, meeting my incredulous stare with disarming honesty. "My father told me to find you. To protect you and get you to the rendezvous point. He didn't exactly provide a step-by-step guide."
Heat flooded my cheeks—anger, frustration, and maybe a tad of hysteria. "That's..." I couldn't even finish the sentence. "That's just perfect. I escape one nightmare only to end up with a bodyguard who's winging it."
"I didn't say I had no plan," he countered, a hint of wounded pride coloring his tone. "I said I'm making it up as I go. There's a difference."
"Is there?" The words dripped with sarcasm.
"Yes." He straightened to his full, impressive height, and despite the admission, something about his presence radiated competence. Strength. The kind of solid reliability that made my traitorous heart want to believe in him. "I know this planet. I know where it's safe and where it's not. I know how to keep you alive until we figure out the next step. That's not nothing."
I wanted to argue, but damn him, he had a point. I was alive, wasn't I? And I'd been on the verge of being very muchnot alive before he showed up. Although I had saved myself from that particular disaster.
"Fine," I said, the word coming out grudging and skeptical. "But if this 'making it up as you go' thing gets me killed, I'm going to haunt you. Relentlessly."
The corner of his mouth twitched—almost a smile, and something warm unfurled in my chest at the sight. "Noted."
I found myself stealing glances at him as he knelt to inspect the male I'd just killed, checking him over for anything useful. He was, objectively speaking, the most devastatingly handsome man I'd ever laid eyes on. Tall—easily over seven feet—with broad shoulders and a muscular frame that his well-worn leather vest did absolutely nothing to hide. If anything, the vest seemed specifically designed to showcase the sculpted planes of his chest and arms, all hard muscle and pale skin that practically begged to be touched. His leather pants and boots were equally worn, the kind of broken-in that spoke of years of hard use, and they hugged his powerful thighs and absolutely perfect ass in a way that made it impossible not to notice.
His hair was long and platinum blond, pulled back from his angular face but falling past his shoulders in a silken cascade, catching the alien sunlight like spun silver. And then there were the horns—two ivory curves that swept back from his forehead, elegant and somehow regal, like a crown forged from bone. On anyone else, they might have been frightening. On him, they just added to the whole impossibly attractive, dangerously alluring package.
I forced my gaze forward, jaw clenching, heat creeping up my neck.
Don't go there, I told myself firmly, even as my pulse quickened. Don't even think about going there.
Because what did it matter how handsome he was? What did it matter that something deep and instinctive responded tothe sight of him? After Declan, after everything he'd done to me, I doubted I'd ever be able to let another man touch me again. The very thought made my skin crawl and my stomach twist with nausea that had nothing to do with the thin atmosphere.
No. Better to keep my distance. Better to stay numb.
It was safer that way.
He stood from where he'd been crouched over the body, pocketing a few small blades he'd retrieved. The movement was efficient, practiced—like he'd done this sort of thing a hundred times before, and the casual competence of it sent an unwelcome shiver down my spine.
"My kuda is waiting past the thicket," he said, his voice a low rumble that seemed to vibrate through my chest. He gestured toward a dense cluster of twisted vegetation in the distance, the movement drawing my attention to the corded muscles of his forearm. "We should move. Others are coming."
I nodded, not entirely sure what a kuda was but assuming it must be some kind of transport. Whatever got us moving faster worked for me. I might have been able to handle the first guy, but my father didn't raise no fool. I'd gotten lucky—and luck had a nasty habit of running out.
As we walked, the silence stretched between us like a living thing, broken only by the crunch of our boots on rocky ground and the whistle of wind through strange, gnarled trees. I was acutely, painfully aware of him beside me—the innate grace in the way he moved, the subtle scent of leather and something wild and masculine that clung to him, the sheer presence he commanded without even trying. It was magnetic and terrifying in equal measure.
"What happened to the Alliance ship?" he finally asked, his voice low and careful, like he was trying not to spook a wounded animal.
I swallowed hard, the memories rushing back with nauseating clarity. "We were attacked. Another ship—came out of nowhere." My voice caught, threatening to break. "They were after me. Captain Karvat ordered me put in the escape pod..." The words scraped out of my throat like broken glass. "The Alliance ship was destroyed."
His jaw tightened, a muscle jumping beneath his pale skin, and his hand moved unconsciously to the hilt of one of his blades. "Do you think it was the male who is after you?"
It wasn't a question. It was a certainty wrapped in barely controlled fury, and something about the protective edge in his tone made my breath catch.
"Had to be," I said, and the rage that had been simmering beneath my shock suddenly flared hot and bright, burning away the numbness. "That bastard." I stopped walking, fists clenching so hard my nails bit into my palms hard enough to leave crescents. "Everyone on that ship died because of me. Because I was there. Because he wanted me, and they got in the way."
He turned fully toward me, those blue-green eyes sharp with focus. "How did they find you? The male who attacked the Alliance ship—how did he know where you were?"
The question landed like a stone in still water, ripples spreading outward.
I opened my mouth, then closed it. HowhadDeclan—or whoever was pulling the strings—tracked me to that ship? The Alliance had been careful. The mission was classified. My presence aboard was supposed to be—
