“The w-what?” Terri sputtered.
The female pulled up her tight tunic just enough to reveal her breasts. Just as they were bared, a long, sharp spine speared up from beneath the swell of each breast before slowly retracting. Terri gaped in astonishment as Azan tugged her tunic back down.
“Most females have some sort of defense mechanism to protect themselves from aggressors—except your species, it seems. You are truly as fragile as you appear. You will not last a full revolution without your mate protecting you. I am surprised you have survived as long as you have. Soft things do not last long in space. How sad to see a male of such a strong species mated to one so weak. Argurma females are warriors who stand beside their males. He must have to keep you protected like a youngling.”
With those parting words, she tossed the clothing at Terri and strode away, leaving Terri alone with her thoughts and the dread curling in her stomach. Obviously, Veral had known something that everyone in space understood but her. Anything perceived as weak wouldn’t survive. On Earth, she was good at hiding from her enemies, but even she understood the need to fight for survival. If her survival meant that she had to go further to protect herself, then she would find a way to equip herself.
Terri’s brow furrowed thoughtfully as she pulled the loose tunic and leggings on, all of which were baggy and obviously meant to fit the Blaithari who gave them to her. Her exploratory field armor in the ship was a good start, but she was going to need more, as Azan had made clear with her demonstration. She was letting Terri know with few words why her chances of survival were slim—and exactly why Veral jealously guarded her and kept her hidden away.
How long would she have survived otherwise? Especially with her penchant for finding trouble and aim to turn a quick profit. It would have earned her more than a little undesired attention if things had continued as they were with Terri so vulnerable.
Her teeth sank into her bottom lip. She needed to find a way to reduce her vulnerability so she would be able to survive this situation and be able to stand at Veral’s side as his mate. But how?
7
When Azan escorted Terri into the captain’s quarters for the evening meal, she found herself stepping into a room bedecked with precious metals and exotic, colorful fabrics. A sort of light, spicy fragrance hung in the air, though it was almost drowned out by the savory foods set out on several platters on the table at which Egbor sat.
Although she balked for only a moment, it was apparently too long for Azan. The second-in-command pushed her forward, giving Terri little choice but to sit in the chair directly across from him. The pirate captain regarded her contemplatively through slitted eyes. His eyes left her only long enough to acknowledge the presence of Azan as she took her place between them. Almost on cue, a thin male—a young Blaithari if Terri wasn’t mistaken, not more than a child—drew to the side of the table and began to serve them in a careful, measured manner before scurrying out the door.
She drew back startled. “I really don’t think…”
“Good. Do not think,” Egbor interrupted, his expression hard.
She glared back at him. To her disgust, her stomach grumbled as the aroma of the food on her plate hit her nose. It was a wonder that she could eat, but her body was demanding the nutrients and letting her know.
A small smile tugged at the captain’s lips as his expression suddenly lightened, and he gestured to her plate. “Despite what you may think from your current surroundings, we do not stand on ceremony here. Eat.”
She did not reply other than to grab the two-pronged utensil sitting beside her and dig into her food. She felt a pang of guilt as the tender meat melted on her tongue. There was little doubt that Veral wasn’t getting anything this good. She cut a quick glance to Azan, and seeing her engrossed in her own meal, she ventured to broach the topic.
“Did anyone bring food to my mate?” she inquired cautiously.
Egbor paused, his two-pronged fork halfway to his mouth as he stared at her. “Yes,” he answered shortly before placing it in his mouth. He chewed as he regarded her. “He is being given a portion of what was sent to my upper crew. Nothing quite as fine as this, naturally. In fact, Azan hasn’t enjoyed such fare herself in many revolutions, but he will still have food of filling and good quality. The Argurma is a fine tool, and I will care for him as long as he continues being useful to me.”
Terri stared at him in surprise. “But you put him that a tiny, dirty cell.”
“That is to remind him of his place and his dependence on my good graces. In any case, it will not hurt him. Argurma are resilient. He will care more about the food than he will about a comfortable place to sleep.”
She couldn’t argue with that. On Earth, he seemed to sleep easily even in the worst surroundings. Still, she hated to think of him caged down there while she got to enjoy a comfortable room.
“It is necessary to cage him,” Egbor continued as if he were reading her mind. “An Argurma will only be under my control as long as I have complete control of you in his presence. Alas, I have to sleep, and cannot spend every moment threatening you. Even Azan, as fear-inspiring as she is, needs sleep on occasion. It is for everyone’s safety that he is kept caged where he will not put everything at risk. Unlike Azan, when she came into my service, he has nothing else to lose but you.”
From the corner of her eye, Terri noted the way the female’s hand tightened around her fork, her expression hardening at Egbor’s observation. The Blaithari second-in-command was not pleased by his comments. Whatever the history was between them, it lurked with a weighty presence behind those few words.
Terri directed her attention to her food. This was, without a doubt, the most uncomfortable meal she had ever shared with anyone—and given the way that she and Veral had shared a tense meal of lizards in the ruins of a building, that was saying something. Azan didn’t speak, and Egbor watched her, a frown marring his brow as he seemed to realize that she wasn’t going to perform for him.
Fuck that. She was here eating with him. She was doing only as much as she was required to.
He seemed to change tactics as he sat back and wiped his mouth, one hand gesturing to his surroundings.
“What do you think of my quarters, female?”
Setting her spoon down, Terri didn’t miss the soft sigh from Azan but pretended not to hear it just as Egbor seemed to do after he cut his eyes in the other Blaithari’s direction. Instead, she made a show of slowly looking around the room in admiration before finally allowing her eyes to meet his.
“It’s nice,” she said flatly.
His eyes blinked in surprise, and she was certain that she heard an amused snort come from the second-in-command.
“Nice?” he echoed. “All this splendor, the remainder of my fortunes as the younger son of a Blaithari prince and treasures accrued from plunder, and the best that you can come up with is… ‘nice?’”