With regret but renewed purpose, I tore my gaze from her. I would not look again. I had a job to do, an assassin to kill.
Violet would not join Mindy in a ReGen pod. No, my mate trusted me to take care of her. She would not be injured. Not one drop of her blood would spill.
Anyone who touched her would die.
12
Calder
I was going to kill that old man.
Bertok was his name. He was ancient, wrinkled but still strong. Goran told us the eldest councilor was at least ninety years old.
&
nbsp; He looked twice that. And the pure hatred in his eyes as he looked at High Councilor Tark had my attention. The elder made no attempt to hide his disgust. Which, in my opinion, made him a prime suspect in the previous attacks on Mindy.
But then, the enemy standing in the open was rarely the one to strike a killing blow.
I knew nothing of Trion politics. I knew Mindy belonged to Goran and in a way to Violet, and that Violet belonged to me.
Well, not yet. But soon. We had several weeks yet to seduce her, win her heart. Since meeting Violet, I had developed a respect for her other suitors, Axon and Zed. Both warriors stood at attention on the edges of the tent, as I did. Both could not help but stare at the beautiful vision of our mate on display.
Everything about this situation reminded me of home. Her adoring gaze, her complete surrender before others. Back on Viken, in my village, a mate would behave this way as a declaration of her mate’s value, his true worth. She would allow him to fuck her in the public square, scream her release proudly, for all to witness.
This was not so different. They may fuck in private, but her offerings were blatantly displayed. But the lecherous look from Bertok was not welcome.
On Viken, in Sector One, such a display was sacred. Respected.
Bertok’s bright blue eyes blazed with violence and lust when he looked at Violet. I’d seen that look before, the look of a sadist, of a man who enjoyed causing pain.
“It’s a surprise to see your mate here, General,” Bertok commented loudly for all to hear. “We had heard some disturbing news about an attack that took her life. I see that is not the case.”
Violet’s head swung toward the old man and the soft, loving gleam in her eye faded to cold calculation. The difference was stark, and, I was sure, noticed by everyone in the room.
She’d been told not to speak, to trust her mate, General Goran, or High Councilor Tark to speak for her. To defend her honor. But I could see the rage boiling within her. She believed this old man was a threat to her sister, and as of yet, I could not disagree.
“The threat was vastly overstated, Councilor Bertok,” Goran replied evenly. His hand stroked over Violet’s hair in a possessive and gentling gesture. “Although I thank you for your concern. As you can see, my mate is safe, content and well pleased.” Goran leaned back on his pillowed seat as if he didn’t have a care in the world. The look on his face full of pure arrogance. It appeared Violet was not the only skilled actor in the tent.
On Goran’s right sat the High Councilor of Trion, a large, muscled warrior by the name of Tark. Our introduction lasted only a few seconds, but I knew he loved a woman from Earth as well, a woman like Violet. He was, according to Goran, one of the general’s oldest and most trusted friends. The look on his face was not so pleased. “I am interested to know, Councilor Bertok, who gave you this false information about the general’s mate, as rumors have also circulated about my mate, the beautiful Eva, who is, even now, heavy with my child.”
Bertok bowed slightly. “High Councilor, you must forgive me. The speed with which false lies spread through the planet is breathtaking, indeed. I meant no disrespect, as my sons heard these rumors from the soldiers and their mates. I am afraid I cannot give you a definitive answer.”
Liar. The old man was lying.
Bertok’s shifty blue eyes had drifted from Goran to Tark and back several times before he answered. A quick glance at Violet assured me she had returned her attention to Goran, to leaning against his thigh, her head resting there as if he were her home. A serving maid filled Goran’s cup with wine and reached for Violet’s as I returned my attention to Bertok. He looked at the councilor named Roark, the only other male in the room with a mate from Earth.
“And you, Councilor Roark?” Bertok asked. “Where is your mate, the beautiful Natalie?”
Roark raised his brows but did not take the bait. “My mate and my son are safe and well in my home, Councilor Bertok. Thank you for your concern. And how is your mate? I hear she is heavy with child.”
If his mate was with child, then she had to be decades younger. I pitied the poor female who suffered his touch.
“She is dead, as you well know. Lost to a Drover raid.”
Roark leaned forward with a head nod of respect—I assumed for the dead mate, not Bertok. “My condolences. I can send warriors to the mountains if you require help. Is this not the fourth mate you’ve lost in such a manner?”
His tone implied that he believed nothing the old man had said, and that Bertok’s mates had died of something else entirely. Looking at the bastard, I could only imagine the horror belonging to him would bring any female. Knowing the truth about him made his lustful glances at Violet difficult to endure.