“Look.” Sighing, she eased back. Distance—smart. “Am I seeking a lifelong friendship with Nissa’s killer? No. Will I destroy all Astra for a chance to strike at the Commander? Yes. One day. Maybe. I’m still debating it. But here’s what I know beyond a doubt, now and forever. I will never purposely harm my fellow harpies. Since their fate is linked with yours, you and your task are kind of important to me.”
Halo pinched her chin in that gentle but firm clasp—Help me! It was only the sexiest hold in the freaking world. Her heart raced.
“You love your sisters. I believe that. But Erebus is persuasive. If you decide to aid him... Do not aid him, Ophelia.”
“I won’t, Halo.” She meant that. For her sisters in arms. For Nissa. For herself. Which solidified her decision not to blab her end game to Halo, risking a counterplay on his part.
Cat calls sounded around them, and he released her to palm a three-blade. But there was no threat. Harpies were simply doing their thing, backing up in unison to form a wide circle around Ophelia, Halo, and the handful of other Astra while chanting, “Bone. Bone. Bone.”
Commander Roc appeared nearby, and the cheers instantly ceased.
Ophelia snapped to attention. The Commander. Here. This was the closest she’d ever been to him. She expected a rise and crash of emotion. Rage. Grief. Resolve. Her mind merely tossed out useless observations. Stalwart. Cropped dark hair. Gold irises encircled by rings of varying shades of gray. Proud, patrician nose. Soft lips. A thick beard. As usual, he’d forgotten to wear a shirt. The muscles packed beneath his bronze skin put highly agitated alevala on display. If she searched long enough, would she see Nissa’s face?
“Halo,” Roc said, ignoring her.
“Commander.” Halo wrapped an arm around her waist, not to hold her in place but to...comfort her?
No, no. Of course he didn’t seek to comfort her. What a ridiculous notion. Halo, offer anything other than cold disdain or the promise of an orgasm without the actual delivery? Please!
Wait. He and the Commander had lapsed into silence. Roc was studying her now. Really looking her over. His gaze got stuck on the muscular arm that shackled her against his second-in-command.
Halo stiffened, as if Roc had said something he didn’t like. Roc probably had.
The Astra possessed the amazing ability to speak telepathically, and it was the bane of harpy existence. Assuage a girl’s curiosity already. But, okay, fine. This conversation she thought she understood. No doubt Roc had asked three questions. Who is she? Who is she to you? Where did you find such an exquisite creature?
Or just two questions. Whatever. They could have their secret mind-meetings. She couldn’t deny the time-out had incredible perks. More warmth. That scent. The majestic view couldn’t be beat; it trapped her gaze once again.
Halo’s body had been built for war. Utterly jam-packed with strength. A shadow of stubble graced his strong jaw. And look at those broad shoulders. His biceps remained flexed. Ohhh. Was he tense, preparing to cause damage to something? How utterly delicious.
Mmm, mmm, mmm. He had a chest made for her hands, didn’t he? So many ridges beneath his shirt. And the heat of his skin...she slipped her fingers beneath the fabric, touching sizzling flesh. A mewl left her. Will never get tired of this.
“Ophelia,” he snarled, waking her from a stupor.
Oops! She had a palm on his shoulder and a palm on his abs as she rubbed all over him. In front of everyone. Needless to say, there was a lot of staring.
Cheeks burning, she eased away from the Astra, and he let her. She needed to give herself a stern talking to about what had just happened. And she would. After she ditched her companion.
“Very nice to meet you, Ophelia,” Ian said. He flashed off, clearly trying not to laugh.
The other males ranged in emotion as they disappeared on his heels. Two warlords maintained their stations, however. Roux, and the one named Vasili. A quiet, brutish Astra who wasn’t always sane. He had more harpy-fans than any other.
The two scowled at her without cause.
She bristled at them. “What? You want to say something?” Superior officers. Allies. Right. She pasted on a smile and added, “Because I’d love to listen, sirs.”
Halo muttered something under his breath, then flashed her to the royal library, where a handful of harpies loitered. The kindest, most caring harpies of them all—the readers. Woe to anyone who disturbed their force field of quiet, however. Ophelia shuddered inside.
Thankfully, no one paid her and Halo any heed.
He didn’t release her right away. No, he held her against his body, once again enveloping her with his scent, and he stared, hard. She gulped, remembering the way she’d rubbed all over him only moments ago, losing herself. Why, why, why did she yearn to do it again?