Page 11 of Bound (Gladiators of the Gryn #3)

CHRISSIE

I seethe in Rych’s arms, glaring at him in the vain hope he might relinquish his hold on me. I appreciate it is a long way to the dock where our air transport waits, but even so, I could have walked.

We reach the sleek silver craft in no time at all, and Rych gently lowers me to the ground.

“Don’t,” I say through gritted teeth, “ever do that again without asking me first. I might have this”—I lift the stick and wave it at him—“but it doesn’t mean I can be picked up like a doll whenever you feel like it.”

Rych runs his hand through his hair, his wings shivering before he drops to his knees in front of me.

“My eregri , please accept my sincere apologies. I didn’t think.” He cocks his head on one side, a wicked grin hitching the corner of his mouth, one which makes my heart spin in my chest. “You see, it was a long walk and I only wanted it to be easy for you.”

“Yeah, well,” I grumble. “Next time, ask first.”

Rych’s grin somehow gets even badder. “May I assist you onto the ship, little spark?”

He’s a cheeky male, I have to give him that. Plus he has a smile which lights up my life in a way nothing has since I was taken from Earth. I know the way my heart skips a beat is ridiculous. Once he realizes how sick I am, he’ll run a mile, but then why shouldn’t I enjoy what I can get in the moment—a devilishly handsome male who thinks he knows me.

It’s been a long time since I did.

“Why not?” I respond.

Rych doesn’t hesitate, and I’m back in his strong arms, his feathers swishing as he carries me up and through the airlock into Fenek’s ship.

Inside, other than the whooshing associated with the engines, all is silent. Lights flow over the consoles in the bridge area, and behind us, the door seals shut.

Fenek’s ship is nothing if not a home away from home, with the same muted tones as his dwelling, same fabrics, same everything.

“Automated. I should have guessed,” Rych grumbles as he puts me on my feet.

“You expected nothing less from Fenek, surely?” I say, heading through the main leisure area to the cabins at the rear.

Only my way is blocked by seven feet of muscles and feathers.

“Where are you going?” he demands.

“My cabin. Fenek will have arranged quarters for you,” I respond.

“I need to check first,” he growls, and with a flick of his giant wings, he stalks away towards the cabin area. “Wait here.”

I hang back, watching him leave, turn the corner, and disappear. Rych surely can’t believe there is an assassin on board? Like everything, Fenek has this ship coded to our DNA, as well as his own. No one else should have been able to get in. Clearly, Rych doesn’t trust the tech.

And after all, the assassin nearly got to us before, so I guess the tech isn’t everything. Or everything Fenek wants it to be.

I sit down on one of the comfortable seats which dot the living area. Above me is a wide open viewing window, which means I can look up at the unfamiliar stars, both closer and farther away than they were when we were on the ground. I’m not keen on these flights. The pressure makes breathing harder for me, my lungs still weak from the virus. I do my best not to panic, to keep my heart rate down. Not to think about assassins or anything else.

Just the swish of feathers and the scent of cinnamon.

“Little spark?” Rych’s deep, warm voice penetrates my thoughts. “Were you sleeping?” he asks as my massive bodyguard resolves into his bare-chested form.

I stretch a little, find it hurts, and stop.

“I don’t much like these flights,” I say, words unfiltered tripping off my tongue.

“It is entirely safe,” Rych says, gazing down at me.

I think about how warm and comfortable his arms are…and how I eschewed them because he didn’t ask before picking me up.

“No assassins?” I query.

“No assassins. Your person is secure.”

“I’ve never had it called that before.” I laugh, wriggling painfully to sit up. Rych offers me his hand.

I look at it for a second, then take it. As before, it’s warm, softer than I’d have imagined, and he helps me sit.

“What do you wish, little spark?”

I probably should go to bed, get some rest on this overnight flight, but for the first time in a long time, I don’t want to.

“Should we get something to eat?” I suggest, half expecting him to shy away from my offer.

Rych’s smile widens. But then I’ve seen him consume vast amounts of food. A creature his size has to be constantly hungry.

I order up a selection of dishes, some of which I saw him eat the at Feneks along with a few things I find palatable, from the onboard automated kitchen. Within minutes, they arrive in the hot boxes next to the large table. Rych removes them, placing them out carefully, making sure they’re positioned in a pleasing way. I watch him as he takes his time with the arrangement, his face serious, brow furrowed as he concentrates on his task.

“Eat,” he growls at me.

“After you,” I say.

I shouldn’t have spoken. With a low roar from Rych, I find myself on his lap in the blink of an eye.

“You will eat, little spark. I will ensure it.”