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"You leave tomorrow." Kyrana's expression softened slightly. "Take today to prepare yourself."

Zexx spun on his heel and stormed from the tent, not trusting himself to speak. The suns seemed too bright, the sand too hot beneath his feet as he stalked through the village.

Live in the city? Among those who had scorned his people for generations? The same ones who'd hidden behind their walls while calling the Dothveks savages?

But a traitorous part of his mind whispered that she would be there. That he would see her again, breathe her scent, hear her voice...

No. She had orchestrated this to prove her power over him. To show that even a Dothvek warrior could be bent to her will. Memories of his night with her had tormented him, but that did not mean he would allow her to rule him like they had. He was a Dothvek warrior. He would not be a puppet for anyone. Not even her.

He would go because his leader commanded it. But he would show Linnea that some things couldn't be controlled. Even if it meant hardening his heart against the only woman who had ever touched it.

He would be ambassador because his leader commanded it, but he would not allow any female to rule his heart. Not again.

ChapterEleven

Linnea stood at the tower window, her fingers pressed against the cool stone opening as she surveyed the city spread beneath her like a colorful tapestry. The square below bustled with activity, draped in vibrant fabric swags that snapped in the breeze, creating ripples of color against the pale stone buildings. Market stalls formed a honeycomb pattern in the center where Cresteks in differently colored robes—silver for government officials, blue for scholars, purple for merchants, and beige for the commoners—haggled and bartered.

The heady scent of exotic perfumes wafted up even to her high perch, along with the cacophony of voices. So different from the village on the sands. For a moment, she allowed herself to remember the Dothvek oasis—the musky smell of jebel fur, the whisper of the wind over the water, the way the sand caressed her feet as she sank into it. The simplicity of it had stirred something in her, something she hadn't felt in the polished corridors of the Crestek city.

"Stop it," she muttered to herself, smoothing the front of her silver chancellor's robes. "You can't reshape generations of customs in a single rotation."

She was chancellor now. Her brother Karv might have found his destiny among the Dothveks, but hers was here, navigating the treacherous waters of Crestek politics. After Riz's death, someone had to step up and prevent further chaos. The irony wasn't lost on her—she hadn’t craved power, yet here she was, the first female to hold the highest position in their city.

A sharp knock on the door broke her reverie.

"Enter," she called, not turning from the window.

"Chancellor," her adjunct, K’Nar, announced with his customary formality, "the Dothvek ambassador has arrived as requested."

She froze, her spine stiffening instinctively before she forced herself to turn with the practiced calm she'd cultivated since taking office. But all her preparation shattered the moment Zexx stepped into the room.

His tall frame seemed to consume the air, his gold skin gleaming in the sunlight streaming through the windows. Dark tribal markings curved across his bare chest and down one arm, the same markings she'd found herself tracing with her eyes during her brother's bonding ceremony. His long black hair was pulled back, revealing the sharp angles of his face.

Her heart thundered so loudly in her chest she worried he might hear it. Heat crept up her neck and burned her cheeks. She'd told herself the feelings she'd experienced in the Dothvek village were nothing—a momentary fascination with something forbidden—yet here she was, reacting like some lovestruck adolescent.

"Thank you, K’Nar," she managed, dismissing her adjunct with a slight nod. The door closed with a soft click, leaving them alone.

She expected—what? The same intensity she'd felt in his gaze before? That low rumble in his chest when he'd said her name?

Instead, his scowl deepened, his eyes barely meeting hers before skittering away to examine the ornate carvings on her office walls.

"Ambassador Zexx," she said, falling back on formality to mask her confusion. "Thank you for coming."

"I was given no choice," he growled, his voice a rough burr laced with fury.

She moved behind her desk, grateful for the barrier between them. "I thought you would be the best ambassador for this new era of cooperation between our peoples," she said, shoulders squared. "But if you don't believe you can fulfill that role adequately, I can certainly request someone more qualified from Kyrana."

His head snapped up, eyes finally locking with hers. If she thought he looked angry before, now he looked positively furious, the muscle in his jaw working as he clenched his teeth.

His gaze bored into her. “There is no one more qualified to be here than me. I will not disappoint my leader. I serve at Kyrana's pleasure."

But not mine, the unspoken message hung in the air between them. Something twisted painfully in her chest. She'd spent days anticipating his arrival, rehearsing what she might say, how she might build on what had happened between them. Had she imagined it all?

"Good," she said, her voice coming out more brittle than she intended. "K’Nar will show you to your quarters. We've prepared them according to Kyrana's instructions—I hope they'll be acceptable."

He gave a curt nod, still glaring as if she'd personally offended him.

"The first diplomatic meeting will be tomorrow," she continued, fighting to keep her voice steady. "My adjunct will provide you with the necessary information."