Page 17

Chapter seventeen

The Dance

R owen paced the small confines of her quarters, her thoughts spinning like a planet off its axis. Her empathic senses still buzzed with the aftershocks of the courtyard confrontation—Varian's cold entitlement, Petre's feral rage, Bylelle's caustic fury. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw the blood, heard the sickening crack of bone, flesh hitting flesh.

The door chime startled her from her spiral. Through her HUD, she saw Petre standing outside, and her heart leaped.

"Petre!" She rushed to open the door, relief washing through her in a dizzying wave. "Thank the Goddess. I thought they might have arrested you."

He stood in her doorway, silver hair damp as if he'd recently showered, but his eyes were clear and focused in a way she hadn't seen in weeks.

"They didn't," he said, a ghost of a smile touching his lips.

She pulled him inside, scanning him for injuries. "Broken?"

"Got me out before security arrived." He reached for her face with trembling fingers, stopping just short of touching her bruised cheek. "Rowen, I..." His voice cracked. "I hurt you. I never meant—"

"Don't." She caught his hand, pressing it gently to her cheek, ignoring the slight sting. "It was an accident. And compared to what you did to Varian, I got off lightly."

His expression darkened at the pilot's name. "He shouldn't have touched you."

"No," she agreed. "He shouldn't have." She led him to the couch, noting how carefully he moved, as if afraid to take up too much space. "But you shouldn't blame yourself. I chose to step into that fight."

He shook his head, unconvinced. "I should have protected you better. Instead, I just made everything worse."

"Hey." She nudged his shoulder with hers. "My face will heal. Denara says in a day or two she can repair it with the tissue regenerator, just as soon as the rest of me stabilizes after the first healing. And frankly, seeing you tear into him was...well, a little terrifying, but also kind of satisfying. He deserved it."

That earned her a reluctant smile. "He did."

"So what happened after Broken dragged you away?" she asked, relieved that they could still find moments of lightness amid the chaos.

Petre exhaled slowly. "I went to the K'Dec. Told her everything. About the scanners, about Bylelle, about Father..." His eyes met hers. "About us."

"Everything? Just like that?"

"It was time. I was tired of hiding. Of letting them control me through fear." He reached for her hand, his touch hesitant, as if still expecting rejection. "I should have done it weeks ago, but I was afraid of what they might do to everyone I care about."

Rowen laced her fingers through his. "What did Maral say?"

"She already knew most of it," he admitted, with a short, surprised laugh. "She's been monitoring Frei's activities for months. Scara's been reporting to her."

"Scara?" Rowen's eyebrows shot up. "The little Maman who follows Frei around?"

"Apparently she's been working with the K'Dec to gather evidence against Frei and the others." His thumb traced gentle patterns across her knuckles. "There's a plan to expose them both, but..." He hesitated.

"But what?" she prompted.

His eyes searched her face. "They need our help. They want to use me as bait—to push Bylelle until she reveals what she truly is to everyone."

"And how would that work exactly?"

"It would mean declaring my intentions toward you. Publicly." His voice softened. "Making her face the reality that I've chosen you, that I will always choose you."

"I see." Rowen tried to suppress the flutter in her chest at his words. "And you think that will push her over the edge?"

"According to Scara, it's the surest way. Bylelle's obsession has grown beyond the point of reason." His expression grew serious. "But it's dangerous, Rowen. She's already tried to hurt you once."

"Through Varian, you mean."

"Yes. And I'm terrified of what else she might do." His fingers tightened on hers. "I won't put you at risk again. We can find another way. MakenRoy offered us sanctuary on Maluria—"

"Petre." She placed her free hand against his cheek, feeling the slight rasp of stubble beneath her palm. "I'm not afraid."

"You should be," he whispered. "After what you saw today—"

"What I saw today was someone who would tear apart anyone who threatened me." She smiled softly. "That's not something I'm afraid of."

"Rowen..."

"I love you." The words emerged with quiet certainty, as natural as breathing. "I'm already involved in this, Petre." She met his gaze steadily. "So yes, I'll help expose her. Not just for the colony, but for us. For the chance to build something without her shadow hanging over us."

"It won't be easy," he warned, but hope had kindled in his eyes.

"Few things worth having are." She leaned forward, pressing her forehead to his.

He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close, his heartbeat steady against her cheek. He murmured into her hair, "I like the sound of that."

They stayed that way for a long time, the simple comfort of connection washing away the day's horrors. When he finally pulled back, his expression had changed—the uncertainty replaced by something steadier, more resolved.

"So," she said, settling more comfortably against him. "Tell me about this plan."

***

When dawn came, she was already awake, watching Petre sleep. Twice during the night she had woken up, heart pounding, convinced Bylelle had found him. Each time, she had reached out and felt the warm reassurance of his bulk next to her. She rolled over and snuggled into him as he adjusted and pulled her closer in his sleep.

In slumber, his face softened, the sharp edges of his features gentled.

Their HUDs chimed simultaneously, shattering the peace. Petre was instantly alert, going from sleeping to combat-ready in seconds as he leaped out of bed. She couldn't help laughing at his reaction, earning a mock glare as he accessed the message.

He sagged onto the bed again as he read the message. “It's from Broken. They've found Father.”

Rowen sat up, sheets pooling around her waist. “That’s amazing! Where?”

“He doesn't say. Just that the extraction team is moving into position. We're to stay out of sight for the next forty-eight hours. Give them time to get him somewhere safe before Frei realizes what's happening.”

“Well, then.” She stretched, enjoying how his eyes tracked the movement. “If we’re supposed to stay out of the way, I suppose we'll just have to find somewhere to hide.” She grinned at his suspicious look. “How do you feel about camping?”

His eyebrows rose. “Camping?”

“Mm-hmm. There's a valley about two hours' ride from here. Beautiful views, completely isolated.” She traced a finger down his chest. “No Maman, no politics, just us and the wilderness.”

“That… actually sounds amazing.” He caught her hand, pressing a kiss to her palm. “Though we'll need supplies. And transport.”

“I'll handle it.” She slid out of bed, already planning. “You focus on not being seen. I'll get us a hover bike and some gear.”

The vehicle pool was quiet this early, with most of the colony's day shift workers off getting ready for their duties. Rowen was examining the available bikes when voices from the office caught her attention.

“This is unacceptable. Why are there not more security teams out searching?” Frei's voice carried clearly through the partially open door.”

“We do have teams searching, Maman.” Lucius's steady voice drifted through the office door. “As you can see, he hasn't checked out a vehicle, so he hasn't gone that far.”

“Not hard enough!” Frei's shout rattled the walls. “He attacked another warrior in public. There must be consequences.”

“According to witnesses, Varian provoked him.” Maral's words cut like a knife. “I suggest you choose your battles better, Maman Frei. Times are changing.”

Rowen tried to slip away quietly, but Frei emerged before she could escape. The Maman's eyes narrowed dangerously. “Well. What a fortunate coincidence.”

“Maman,” Rowen said, as she continued examining the bike's systems. “Good morning.”

“Indeed.” Frei glided closer, her cane tapping on the hard ground. “I don't suppose you've seen Petre recently?”

“Can't say that I have.” Rowen didn't look up from her inspection. “Though given recent events, I imagine he's keeping a low profile.”

“Recent events.” Frei's voice dripped acid. “You mean his violent assault on another warrior?” She moved closer, forcing Rowen to acknowledge her. “His attack that left you injured?”

“Oh, you mean when he discovered Varian was manipulating me on Bylelle's orders?” Rowen said meeting Frei's gaze. “Funny how you're more concerned about Petre than the fact that your precious Maman is playing sick games with people's lives.”

Frei drew herself up. “What are you implying?”

“I'm not implying anything.” Rowen felt a vicious satisfaction as uncertainty shuttered Frei's expression. “I'm stating facts. Bylelle arranged for Varian to court me, knowing full well how Petre felt. She's been obsessed with Petre for months,” she said dropping her voice. “But you knew that, didn't you? You let her terrorize him, break him piece by piece—”

“You dare—” Frei started, but Rowen cut her off.

“I dare, because your time is ending, Maman.” The title emerged like a curse. “The males aren't your property. They never were. And your precious Bylelle? She's going to destroy everything you've built with her madness.”

“Careful,” Frei's voice dropped to a dangerous whisper. “You forget your place.”

“No.” Rowen smiled, showing teeth. “I think I finally found it. I don't know where Petre is, but I hope he's far from you and your kind. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have work to do.”

“This isn't over.” Frei's voice shook with barely contained fury.

“Actually, I believe it is.” MakenRoy moved to stand beside Rowen, his presence a silent warning. “The engineer has work to do, Maman. And I'm sure you have more important matters to attend to than harassing my mate's staff.”

Frei gathered her robes with precise movements. “Indeed. Let me know if you hear from our wayward warrior.”

MakenRoy's ruby eyes studied her with quiet amusement after Frei left. “Interesting choice of transport,” he said mildly. “For work.”

She met his gaze steadily. “Sometimes the best way to solve a problem is to get some distance from it.”

His lips twitched. “Indeed.” He gestured to a sleek black bike in the corner. “That one has better range. And the storage compartments are already stocked with survival gear.” When she raised an eyebrow, he added, “A coincidence, I'm sure.”

“Of course.” She smiled. “Thank you.”

He nodded once before turning to leave. “Oh, and Rowen?” He paused at the door. “I don’t think I ever told you how our family hike went. It was lovely and peaceful, so nice to be away from the colony. We went to the northern valleys. They’re lovely this time of year. Very isolated.”

An hour later, Rowen guided the hover bike just outside the main colony. Petre materialized from the shadows like a wraith, a small creature perched on his shoulder with its tail wrapped around his neck.

“Any trouble?” he asked.

She laughed. “Nothing I couldn't handle. Though you should know, I may have told Frei where to go.”

“Of course you did.” He lifted the creature off his shoulder and held it out. “This is Kina, she’s coming with us.”

Rowen accepted the adorable bundle, and Kina chittered in welcome. “What is she?”

“She’s a volpur, a native animal from Verit. They’re very smart, and she’s quite self-sufficient, but I can’t risk them retaliating against her.” He settled himself on the back of the bike, and Kina hopped out of Rowen’s arms and curled herself against his chest. He zipped his uniform jacket over her to keep her secure.

Rowen gunned the engine, feeling him shift to accommodate the acceleration. “Hold on. I'm about to show you how we race hover bikes on Falosia.”

His laugh rumbled through her as they shot forward.

***

The valley opened before them like a painting, towering crystal towers creating jagged valleys and impossibly beautiful peaks. Rowen guided the hover bike to a natural alcove, sheltered by overhanging rock that would hide them from aerial surveys.

“MakenRoy suggested this place. Well, kind of,” she explained as they unloaded their gear, Kina hopping around the packs. “The mineral content in these formations plays havoc with scanning equipment. Perfect for disappearing for a while.”

Petre examined their surroundings. His shoulders gradually loosened, combat-readiness easing. “It's beautiful,” he admitted, watching light dance across the crystal canyon.

She grinned, caught out. “I’m so glad I’ve impressed you with my excellent taste in romantic getaways.”

His laugh was free, unguarded in a way she'd never heard before. “Consider me impressed.” He moved to help her with the shelter unit, his hands brushing hers as they worked. Without the constant pressure of being discovered, his movements were more fluid, almost feline.

“You're different out here,” she observed, watching him secure the shelter's supports with efficient movements. “More… you.”

He paused, considering. “I suppose I am.” His voice held a note of wonder, as if he'd only just realized it himself. “There's no one watching. No expectations to meet. Just…” He gestured vaguely between them.

“Just us,” she finished softly.

“Just us,” he agreed. Kina chattered and he laughed, “and the menace.”

They worked in comfortable silence, establishing their camp. By the time the binary suns began their descent, they had created a cozy space that felt somehow cocooned, separate from the rest of the world.

“Hungry?” she asked, retrieving supplies from the bike's storage compartments. “MakenRoy made sure we were well-stocked.”

Petre's expression softened. “He's a good male. Though don't tell him I said that, his ego is big enough already.”

She laughed, setting out their meal. “Your secret is safe with me.” She settled beside him, close enough to feel his warmth. “What does Kina eat?”

He smiled. “She eats insects, she’ll go and hunt for herself.”

Rowen frowned. “Will she find her way back?”

Petre huffed a laugh. “Volpurs are a highly effective predator. She could track me from days away if she wanted to.”

They sat in companionable silence for a while, before she spoke again. “Tell me something true. Something you've never told anyone else.”

He was quiet for so long; she worried she'd pushed too far. Then, “I used to dream about being an artist.”

She blinked in surprise. “Really?”

“Mm.” He took a sip of his drink. “Before the combat training, before engineering… I loved to draw. The way light fell across surfaces, the subtle patterns in nature.” His lips quirked. “Father encouraged it when he was home. Said beauty was as important as function.”

“Do you still draw?”

“Sometimes. When I can't sleep.” His eyes were hot as he looked at her. “I've wanted to draw you. The way you look when you're working, lost in some complex problem…”

An answering heat bloomed in her chest. “Why haven’t you?”

His expression darkened. “I couldn’t risk Bylelle finding it.”

Her hands found his, fingers intertwining. “Your turn. Tell me something true.”

She considered, then admitted, “I used to sneak off when I was little and race my bike over the sand dunes. It was stupid. People died doing it all the time.”

“Why did you do it?”

“Because I was tired of being safe. Of knowing exactly how my life would play out.” She tilted her head to look at him. “I wanted adventure.”

“And instead you got me,” he said dryly. “With all my complicated baggage and homicidal stalker.”

“Hey.” She twisted in his arms, framing his face with her hands. “You're exactly the adventure I wanted. Even if you are terrible at expressing your feelings and have this annoying habit of trying to protect me from everything.”

“I'm working on that,” he murmured, and kissed her.

This kiss was different from their others; unhurried, exploratory, with none of the desperate edge of before. She let her empathic senses open fully, drinking in the complexity of his emotions. There was still the odd muddiness in his signature, and it scratched at her. “Hey, what did you do to cover your emotions? I can’t sense them properly.”

His expression was puzzled for a moment before he touched his neck. “Oh, the Maman injected me with a psychic block to prevent empaths or Casti detecting my thievish intent.”

Fear poured cold water down Rowen’s spine. “They did what? That’s insanely dangerous!” She gripped his hair and tilted his head back, examining his eyes. “Don’t you know psychic blocks can cause permanent neurological damage?”

She finished her examination and ran to the med kit on the bike. “How could the bitches be so stupid!” she hissed. She pulled out a scanner and a small laser scalpel. “Here, hold still.”

She ran the small scanner over his neck and cursed. “It’s really deep in there. It’s got tendrils going up into your brain stem and down your spine.” She placed a cool hand on his neck. “Does it hurt?”

“It always hurts.” His simple answer broke her heart.

She leaned forward slightly, resting her head against his back. “I can’t remove it. You need neurosurgery, but I can probably deactivate it if you want me to. It looks simple enough.”

“Do it.”

She went back to the saddlebags and fished around until she found the sonic aligner. It had been included in case of a hover bike repair, but it would do just as well to discharge the power in the little device in his spine.

“Stay still. This shouldn’t hurt. You shouldn’t feel anything.”

She braced his forehead against her shoulder and touched the tip of the aligner to his spine, letting it cycle through the frequencies until it gave a little beep to indicate that it had found the correct one, and pressed the little button. For a moment, she wasn’t sure it had worked. Then his emotions avalanched into her. It hit her like a dam breaking, a flurry of sensations, thoughts, and fears

His emotions crashed into her like a tidal wave, raw and unfiltered. Terror, rage, impotent fury. Each memory carried its own distinct signature of pain. Bylelle's hands on his skin, her noxious presence infecting every corner of his mind.

But worse than the pain was the shame. The bone-deep certainty that he was being unmade, piece by piece, transformed into a creature he didn’t recognize. Each compromise, each surrender to Bylelle's demands, had carved away another fragment of his soul until he barely knew himself. She saw him, throwing up after their encounter, and her heart broke for him.

Rowen's knees buckled. Strong arms caught her, guided her down until they kneeled together in the dust. She was dimly aware that she was crying, hot tears tracking down her face as she absorbed the full scope of what he'd endured.

“Shh,” he murmured, gathering her closer. “It's ok. What happened?”

“How?” Her voice cracked. “How did you survive it? Carrying all of that alone?”

His thoughts stumbled to a halt as the pieces clicked into place. “Oh, Rowen, I never wanted you to experience that.” His hand stroked over her hair, gentle despite the tremors she could feel running through him. “I had to. To protect you. To protect everyone.” A bitter laugh escaped him. “Though I suppose I didn't do a very good job of that in the end.”

She pulled back enough to frame his face with her hands, forcing him to meet her gaze. “Stop. You did everything you could. More than anyone should have had to.” She brushed away the wetness on his cheeks. When had he started crying? “You survived. You kept your heart. That's what matters.”

His emotional signature morphed, wonder threading through the pain, and beneath it all, a love impossibly vast. Not just attraction or affection, but a love bone-deep and unshakeable. Protecting her was the one truth he'd clung to even when everything else had been stripped away.

“I love you,” she whispered, pouring everything she felt into the words. “All of you. The warrior and the engineer. The protector and the male who needs protecting sometimes.” She pressed her forehead to his. “You don't have to be perfect. You just have to be you.”

His arms tightened around her. When he kissed her, she tasted salt. His emotions wrapped around her like a blanket; love and gratitude and fierce joy tangled together until she couldn't tell where his feelings ended and hers began.

“I love you,” he whispered against her skin. “Even when I couldn't say it, couldn't show it… loving you was the one thing she couldn't take from me.”

Gradually, his emotional signature settled. Not healed, not yet, but no longer bleeding. The raw edges of his pain softened, cushioned by her unconditional acceptance.

“You know what this means, don't you?” she asked finally, her voice rough from crying.

“Mm?”

“You have no excuse not to draw me now.” She managed a watery smile. “I expect a full portfolio by the time we get back to the colony.”

His startled laugh rumbled through his chest. “Is that an order, my lady?”

“Absolutely.” She curled closer, feeling his contentment wrap around her like a warm blanket. “Consider it part of your recovery process.”

“As my lady commands.” He pressed a kiss to her temple, and she felt his smile. “Though I should warn you, I'm very thorough in my studies. It may require extensive observation.”

“I think I can live with that.” She tilted her face up for a proper kiss, letting herself sink into the pure rightness of being here, being his. Whatever challenges awaited them back at the colony, they would face them together, stronger for having seen and accepted each other completely.

When they finally parted, she smiled. “See? You're getting better at expressing yourself already.”

His answering smile held a heat that sent a spark of pleasure fluttering through her. “I can think of several other ways to express myself,” he murmured, trailing kisses down her throat. “If you're interested in further demonstrations?”

She laughed, even as she tilted her head to give him better access. “Always the engineer. Everything has to be thoroughly tested.”

“Exactly.” His hands slid beneath her shirt, leaving trails of fire across her skin. “Multiple trials. Rigorous documentation. Very scientific.”

“Well, then,” she shuddered as he found a particularly sensitive spot. “In the interest of science…”

She was ravenous for him. After months of dancing around each other, she felt like she would never have enough. Without conscious thought, she stood. She shucked her pants off, leaving her just in her loose shirt, and pushed him back against a rock, making space for her as she straddled his lap. She tugged at his waistband, opening the fastenings and exposing him.

“I like this experiment already,” he murmured, hands already sliding up her thighs.

She laughed against his mouth, the sound turning to a gasp as his hands found bare skin under her shirt. “You’re naked under here?” He ran a hand over velvet skin. “Smooth. Very smooth. “

“I have my moments. Varian’s not the only one with the moves.” He stood, lifting her with him. “Bed?”

“Bed,” she agreed firmly.

His hands tightened on her thighs as she shifted, the thin fabric of her shirt doing nothing to mask the heat between them. She rolled her hips again, deliberately this time.

“You're playing with fire,” he warned, voice rough and his fingers digging into her butt as he carried her to their shared bedroll in the camp.

“Maybe I want to burn,” she whispered against his ear, feeling him shudder beneath her.

She wrapped her legs around his waist, gasping as the movement pressed them closer together. His mouth found her neck, trailing fervent kisses down to her collarbone. She reached between them and gently squeezed as he sank to his knees on the bedroll.

“You're wearing too many clothes,” she complained, tugging at his shirt.

He laughed against her throat. “So are you.”

He half sat up and stripped off his shirt. The dim lighting carved shadows across his chest, highlighting planes of muscle she'd only had the briefest chance to examine the previous night. She ran a proprietary hand over his skin, feeling the way his muscles jumped beneath her touch.

“Your turn,” he murmured, fingers finding the buttons of her shirt. “May I?”

The reverence in his voice made her heart squeeze. “Please.”

His expression made her feel like the most precious thing in the universe.

“Beautiful.” He traced the curve of her breast. “Flawless.”

She reached forward and pushed his pants off his hips as she trailed kisses down his navel, revealing his member. She squeezed again, before bringing it to her lips, examining the ridges. “I thought I felt something different yesterday.”

She took him into her mouth, sucking gently. He twined his hands in her hair and took over the rhythm. She looked up at him, meeting his gaze, and he cursed. “You are the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen.” Feeling a little wicked, she let him feel the edge of her teeth and he shuddered. “I like this side of you, Rowen. Why didn’t I know you were this mean?”

She let him pull her up to press a kiss on her. “We were colleagues,” she responded primly. “This kind of interaction is frowned on in a workplace.”

He lifted her up and swapped places, sitting on the bedroll while she straddled him. “Well, Lady. Do what you will. Tonight can be yours.”

She settled herself onto him, letting him fill her completely, and wrapped her arms around his neck, feeling his heart beat against her. She began slowly, sliding against him, gifting him sweet kisses.

As the passion built between them, she realized this was different from their first times. Then, they had been urgent, desperate, months of tension finding release. This was slower, deeper, each touch filled with love.

When they finally came together, it was while they stared into each other’s eyes, a vulnerability she hadn’t expected. She reached out with her empathy and connected with him, feeling his emotions and feeding him hers, until they were one uninterrupted circuit of love and pleasure.

It was the most incredible experience of her life.

***

They spent two blissful days hiding out in the crystal canyons. They slept, they ate, and they had sex. Lots and lots of sex. For the first time since arriving on the colony, Petre felt truly himself.

When the emergency comm chirped from the survival kit, Petre was sprawled on their bedroll, watching Rowen's hair catch the late afternoon light as she snoozed. He'd been sketching her on his tablet, rough lines capturing the way she curled toward him even in sleep. Kina sulked on top of the pile of packs. She’d take to Rowen, and in true Volpur fashion had brought her gifts to welcome her to their pack. Rowen hadn’t appreciated waking up to the dead insects lining the side of her pillow and had reacted…loudly.

Petre extracted himself, pressing a kiss to Rowen's temple before retrieving the comm. They'd disconnected their HUD devices—too easily traced—but he'd made sure Broken had this channel's encryption key. Just in case.

Broken's voice came through clear and steady. “We have him.” No preamble, no wasted words. Just the simple statement that changed everything. “He's banged up a bit, but he's alive.”

Petre bared his teeth in a fierce grin. “Thank you, Broken. I can never repay you for your kindness.”

Broken’s voice was tight when he spoke again, after a long pause. “There is no debt. You are as much my son as his, and he is my blood brother. There is nothing I wouldn’t do for you both.”

Rowen stirred, drawn by the shift in his emotional signature. She pressed against his back, arms sliding around his waist as she rested her chin on his shoulder. Her presence steadied him, grounded him.

“Time to end this game,” Petre said, letting steel enter his voice. No more hiding. No more dance of submission. His father was safe, which meant it was time to ensure his brother's safety. And Rowen’s.

“The Malurien guards will cover your return through the south entrance after dark,” Broken confirmed. “Come to my house. I'll make sure Frei and the others are present.”

“Good,” Petre snarled. “Let's show them exactly what happens when they mistake a warrior's patience for weakness.” He ended the call and caught her hand, pressing a kiss to her palm. “Though you realize this means leaving our private paradise?”

She laughed against his shoulder. “Worth it to see you put Bylelle in her place.” Her voice softened. “Besides, we can always come back. After.”

“After,” he echoed, liking the sound of that promise.