I stare at the crystal-flecked midnight-black dress, studded like stars in the velvet expanse of space, where it peeks out from under my new velvety cloak. The gorgeous, sumptuous fabric of the cloak is grey, and it isn’t until I’m standing next to Nydo that I realize what it reminds me of.

I shudder.

“What?” he asks, clearly still miffed by my bitchiness.

A pang of guilt rings through me. “I was just thinking about this fabric,” I say, fingering the soft material. “It looks like… your skin. It’s not, right? It’s not Roth skin?”

He gapes at me. “You truly think our species barbaric enough that we would clothe ourselves in the hides of our own kind?”

“Er,” I say sheepishly. “Yes?”

His nostrils flare, and he regards me stoically. “No.”

We proceed through the station in silence, my skirts swishing slightly as I walk, though the soft black booties underneath barely make any noise.

I love the boots. I love a lot of the new clothes, which is weird, because I never really thought I was into stuff like this. But… it’s easy not to be into stuff like this when you’re poor on Earth, because it’s not exactly like my Federation pay meant I could buy haute couture, and even if I could, where the hell would I have worn it?

“The material comes from an animal that lives on the northern lava plains, where the volcanic ash meets the fertile green stretch before the Roth sea.” Nydo’s voice isn’t like I’ve heard it before. Instead of brash bravado and merciless teasing, he sounds thoughtful.

I glance up at him, sure he’s fucking with me.

His mouth is twisted to the side, a faraway look in his eye. “Roth is a planet of extremes. It’s nothing like Sueva. There are sixty-seven active volcanoes, and the heat and lava falls and magma pools are revered for the energy sources they are. It is a fertile land, savage and dangerous, but beautiful. The ice caves in the northern and southern stretches glow as green as your eyes. It is… like no other place in the universe.” He blinks, then smiles softly down at me. It’s not a teasing look, and for once, I see sincerity behind his words.

“The animal that this comes from—” His hand catches the side of my hood, his knuckles brushing across my cheek as he fingers the material. “—roams the craggy cliffs and braves the elements along the lava plains while grazing on herbs solely found in the juxtaposition of those two harsh climates. It’s a brave and hardy creature. It flourishes where others would perish with one wrong move.”

Our eyes lock, and suddenly, it becomes hard to breathe.

“It reminds me of you,” he finishes softly.

Awareness surges through me at his words, along with a surprising affection. Awareness at his massive, muscled body, his powerful hand, still resting just against my cheek. Affection at his words, at the vulnerable side of him that I’ve never seen before.

And guilt. A whole heaping mountain of guilt, because I’ve been a grade-A ass.

“I’m sorry,” I say suddenly, the words surprising both of us.

“For what?” he asks, truly confused.

“For acting like a total bitch in the store.” I bite my lip. “You didn’t deserve that, Nydo. I… I’m sorry.” I wrinkle my nose, because apologizing isn’t high on my list of favorite things.

“I did deserve it,” he says softly, unblinking, his eyes not glowing now, but full black and wholly alien. “I have… not been kind. I have not been a good male, not like the honorable Suevans. Did you know that I tried to steal Niki away from Draz? I would have killed him for her.”

He says it off-handedly, his palm falling away from my cloak as we wind back through the crowd.

I struggle for a moment with conversational whiplash. “I think I did hear that, yes.”

My first memory of Nydo is one tinged with fear.

Fear… and hope.

Because Nydo was the first Roth I saw, half-awake after being dosed to hell with drugs in a Roth prison, flaming, a living inferno, as he freed me and my crewmates from the cell his own people put me in.

He’s been a thorn in my side since, and I know all too well the misery and wretchedness the Roth have perpetrated across the universes, but I didn’t truly believe he was a villain.

Morally grey, yeah. Physically grey, too.

I digest his confession, letting the sounds and smells of the station wash over me, wholly distracted by the enigma of the male at my side. I slept with him last night. I shared a bed with him, and slept more soundly than I have in… years.

I felt safe enough with him in the store to treat him like dog shit.

But how well do I really know Nydo, so-called lost King of Roth?

I’m so involved with my own tangled, fucked-up thoughts that by the time I realize I’m in trouble, it’s much too late.

OceanofPDF.com

CHAPTER ELEVEN

OceanofPDF.com

NYDO

The denizens and visitors of the station ebb and flow around us,

I’ve been so consumed with my Leigh, with cataloguing every look that crosses her face, every annoyed harrumph and each sweet sigh—that I nearly forgot the mercenaries who tagged us the moment we arrived on the space station.

Stupid of me, considering I know exactly what they plan.

The crowd around us splits wide open, and that’s all the warning I receive. The Roth mercenaries crowd around us. Their gear is mismatched and well-worn, their eyes hard. I reach for my Leigh, but I’m not fast enough. Rough hands close around her shoulders, and a plas rifle presses against my temple. They should be targeting me, and me alone.

The mercenaries are prepared, and I am not. I am, however, enraged. They will rue the day they chose to touch a hair on her head.

I am the Roth King.

Flames burst all along my skin, the barely checked energy I’ve been siphoning all day unleashed. Screams echo through the station hub, and the Roth mercenaries blink at the display of power and aggression.

Let them shrink before me.

“I am your king,” I roar.

No one will step in between us, no one on these lawless stations gives two shits about anything but their own hides. We’re on our own.

Good thing I am their worst nightmare.

My flames flare hotter, licking the skin of the males nearest me, who are wise enough to flinch away, giving me a wide berth.

“Let me go,” Leigh screams. The noise rends me wide open, a raw wound of terror as I swing to face the male holding her. A plas knife flashes in her hand, but not fast enough. I should have told her to take a different weapon. I should have told her the plas rifle she wanted initially would have been a better choice. The male’s fist crunches against her temple, and the hood slips off her head in the struggle, her hair glinting in the light of the station.

“That is my mate,” I hiss, my voice low and quiet. Deadly. “You dare hurt my mate. My queen.”

None of this, none of our trip to this station, is going according to my plan. This is not what I wanted. Leigh’s body is limp, her shoulders sagging and face lax, held up by the same one who struck her.

They will die for this. I stalk towards the male holding her, who, in his cowardice, thrusts her limp body towards me.

If he thinks this will deter me, distract me from my vengeance, he is sorely mistaken.

I catch my Leigh with one arm, the cloak protecting her body from my heat, the reason I ordered the tailor to make it from the fabled modgal of the lava plains. I tug the hood back over her head, and round on the male who dared hurt her.

“You will die for raising your hand against your queen,” I snarl.

A plas pulse whizzes past my head. I don’t slow. I don’t stop.

And I regret nothing as I incinerate the male who dared hurt my Leigh, watching him burn to ashes with nothing but malice and contempt in my heart. The rest of the mercenaries flee, disappearing into the gathering crowd, but not before I catch the scent of their fear on the air. I haul my lovely female into my arms, making for the ship as fast as I can.