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I’m highly conscious of Jalus’s presence in the corner behind me as I say, “I’ve made good progress connecting with the culture. I’m trying to build goodwill by listening to their folklore. Once they fully trust me, I’ll use their own stories against them and convince them that the trees are harmful. That we’d be doing them a favor by cutting them down.”

Another lag interval. Is the holo-capture picking up my nervous shaking?

“Not the approach I’d personally go with,” Dad says, “but since our other attempts have failed, I’m willing to try a new angle. All right, Sinead. You’ve got four weeks. Don’t disappoint me.”

The call disconnects.

I sink into one of my office chairs, fanning myself. “Cecily, could you find me some coffee, please? Or tea? Or…honestly, I’ll take anything liquid.”

“Coming right up, my lady,” my secretary says, and lets herself out of the office.

I meet Jalus’s gaze reluctantly. “I’m sorry you had to hear that,” I say.

His posture is stiff, his expression bland. “Why should you be? Nothing you say surprises me. I knew this was your intent from the start.”

“No, Jalus…” I rub my eyes. “I mean, yes, I did come here intending to do whatever it took to get those trees cut down. But yesterday changed things for me. You have to believe I never would’ve…that I wouldn’t lie about…” Stars, I don’t even know what I’m saying. I’m losing him with every word.

Jalus shakes himself, his wings ruffling just enough to let the rainbow flash through before they settle. “I believe it would be best if I guard you from outside the room today,” he says, his voice monotone.

He shuts the door behind him gently, but it echoes in my ears like a slam.

Jalus barely acknowledges me for the rest of the day, except to follow me at a respectful six paces behind when I go to the dining hall for lunch and dinner. When I retire to my cabin for a sleep cycle, he takes up his post outside the front door, making no motion to join me inside.

As I get ready for bed, I’m tempted to go outside and beg him. Not the sexy kind of begging, either. The pathetic, groveling kind.

But I don’t know what there is to say if, after all that big talk about me trusting him, he still doesn’t reciprocate that trust.

So I lie down in nothing but my panties,because fuck you, alien squirrels, I’m not ruining another nightgown, and let sleep take over.

chapterfour

jalus

As soon asSinead lies down to sleep, I reach into my pocket for the stimulant I requested from my mother.

Breaking the wax seal, I wrestle the stopper out of the gourd and put it to my lips. The liquid inside is viscous, sticky, and sour-sweet. I swallow twice and wait for it to take effect.

When Sinead woke on the first day with scratches all over her body, I knew she was marked in the same way her eleven predecessors had been. Each of them complained of amnesia and strange wounds. And then, after three days, they disappeared.

I failed to protect her the first two days. With the stimulant to keep me alert, this is my last chance to save my lady.

Today’s awkward silence gave me time to inspect my feelings, no longer carried away on updrafts of lust. It stung, hearing her words to Lord O’Rourke this morning. I had thought, after what we shared, she might finally stand up to him.

But I don’t believe she meant those vile words.

The Nade I knew as a child held everyone at arm’s length for fear of rejection. But there was a kind, openhearted soul hidden under that brittle shell, desperate for friendship and love. I keep seeing flashes of it, so much stronger and more beautiful now that she’s grown into her power.

I’m confident I can coax that side of her into the light. But itwilltake time. I can’t let her disappear before she’s been given enough space to grow.

The substance works fast. Within minutes, my pulse begins to race. Adrenaline surges through my system, making it difficult to stand still.

It’s been thirty minutes since Sinead went to lie down. She must be asleep by now.

Slowly, noiselessly, I push open her cabin door. It feels unseemly to be entering uninvited, but I remind myself that this is for her protection.

When I slip into her bedroom, there’s a startled rustling sound. I open my mouth to apologize, thinking she’s still awake.

But then, in the light filtering through the window shade, I make out the shape of her, sitting up in bed, breasts bare. Her eyes are closed, her head lolling to the side. She is asleep.