Orc’s Forbidden Claim (Red Planet Dragons of Tajss #33)

31. Saylor

31

SAYLOR

“ H e’s going to be okay,” I say as Wren paces past for the umpteenth time.

“Yeah,” she says, nodding and rubbing her arms. “Yeah.”

We’ve been waiting for hours and I’m every bit as anxious as she is. She’s my best friend and I’ve grown to like Sek’su too, though I haven’t known him long. I guess it doesn’t matter how long I’ve known him. The way he makes Wren feel, the way he makes her happy, and the way he cares for her is more than enough.

Sek’su managed to walk to the healer but once he was there, he passed out and hasn’t woken since. He’s lying on the table with a sheet halfway up his body. The healers did all they could for him. It’s a matter of time now. Waiting to see if he will recover or not.

I watch his chest rise and fall, hoping and praying while Wren continues to pace the room. Wren walks over to his side, placing her hand on his chest while bowing her head. I am sure she’s offering up prayers too.

None of us were particularly religious before, but when you’ve faced death as many times as we have, you need something. At least that’s my opinion. Especially because so many died, and we lived.

Rising I stand opposite her, across Sek’su, and place my hand on top of hers. Neither of us says anything. There is nothing to say. His chest rises and falls steadily, which is a good sign. He’s strong for sure. The Zmaj healer, Tsi’tel didn’t give a very positive outlook on his chances but said it was over to Tajss.

Wren sighs then looks up. A smile toys at the corners of her lips even though I can tell she’s holding back tears.

“What?” I ask.

“You,” she says, her tone one of musing. “You’ve changed.”

“I have?”

She nods, her eyes bright and sparkling.

“Oh yeah,” she says. “You outshone me back there.”

“What? No,” I shake my head. “I didn’t. I just… I had to?—”

“Protect your man?”

My cheeks become instant infernos, and I can’t keep my eyes on hers. I shrug, shaking my head.

“They were going to hurt him,” I murmur.

“And you stood up,” she says. “You were a total bad ass. I’m proud of you.”

My stomach flips and somehow my cheeks manage to burn even hotter. Not once in all our long friendship has Wren ever said she was proud of me. It’s weird but this means more to me than anytime my parents have said it or anyone else. I’ve always looked up to her and Ziva too. Always been a little bit jealous of how easy it all came to them, but more than that I admired and loved them. I wanted to be them.

“It was…nothing,” I whisper.

My throat is so tight I can barely get the words out. My chest swells with the sensations of pride and now my eyes are filling with tears. Wren places her free hand on top of mine creating a stack.

“It’s okay,” she says. “I understand.”

I smile and shake my head. My thoughts go to Khiara. He’s with Rosalind and the Al’fa being debriefed on what happened. I am sure he’s okay because I trust Rosalind, but that doesn't mean I’m not still worried for him.

The Zmaj… they saved the human race. There is no denying that, but the ones who did that were the surface ones. And they didn’t know anything about the Urr’ki. The long-standing feud between the Cavern Zmaj and the Urr’ki is incomprehensible. It makes no sense to me to hate someone merely because of the color of their skin or their species.

I’m biased. I love Khiara.

I do. I love him and there is no denying it. I’ll have to face whatever the fallout is, but at least Wren knows now. And she’s more than okay with it. I clear my throat then have to try again before I can speak.

“Thanks,” I say, looking into her eyes at last.

She smiles.

“Of course,” she says. “You did it. It was amazing.” I smile, blinking aside the tears and the worries. “But… I have to say…”

She trails the words off and I’m not sure where she’s going with this. I arch an eyebrow but all she does is grin broader.

“But?”

She shrugs, shaking her head, then looking down at her mate.

“What he did when he found you…” oh my god, the inferno covers my skin and it’s all I can do to not crawl under the table. If it wasn’t a solid slab of rock carved right out of the stone of the floor I probably would.

“Wren… god… please…”

“It was hot as fuck,” she finishes.

I stop spluttering and lock onto her with a laser focus.

“You… you think so?”

“Have I ever lied?” she says. “Correction, have I ever lied to you ?”

My smile toys with my lips, not quite ready to commit, yet at least.

“No?” I say, making it into a question.

As far as I know, she never has but she is the Ice Queen.

“No and you make it a question?” she laughs. “No, Saylor, you and Ziva I never lied to. Everyone else was and is fair game. Except for him, of course.”

She darts a glance at Sek’su, and I laugh with her. For a moment all our worries seem far away and unimportant.

“You thought it was hot?” I ask, musing and oddly excited by the idea.

Wren nods with a thoughtful look on her face.

“You remember when Ziva was dating Jayson?”

“Sure, of course, I do,” I say. “She said he was really… big.”

“Yeah, he was,” she says with the certainty that only comes from really knowing.

“You didn’t?” I ask, eyes widening.

Wren doesn’t even blush in the slightest. She gives a half-shrug.

“We had a lot of drinks,” she says.

“Does Ziva know? Weren’t you dating Monte?”

“I was, he was there too,” she says with a lascivious grin.

“No!” I exclaim, eyes wide in shock.

“Yes,” she says.

“Did you… you didn’t swap?”

“No,” she says. “Same room is all, but it was… hot. Watching Khiara… greet you… made me remember it.”

“Oh,” I say.

My head is spinning. I have no clue what to make of the idea. I’d never considered it. That isn’t true. We’d had some fumbling fooling around with the three of us when we were in our teens, but I never did anything like that. The idea though… does have a certain… appeal.

“I’m glad you found him,” she says. “We’ll have to handle the girls, but we can do it.”

“You sure about that?”

“They accepted Sek’su didn’t they?”

“But he’s… the Zmaj had at least been, I don’t know, more normalized? Does that make sense? Khiara isn’t a Zmaj.”

“That’s for sure,” she laughs. “Can you imagine an emerald green Zmaj?”

“No,” I laugh, joining her, but my thoughts are on Khiara again.

They’re never far from him. I hope he’s doing okay. I have no doubt the Zmaj, speaking in broad terms, will be happy to blame him and his brother for the infiltration by Urr’ki which is ridiculous. If he was aware of it or had any part of it, why did he come to rescue us? Why save Sek’su, who without him would be dead?

“You are blocking the press!”

I’m startled out of my thoughts by the shrieking voice causing me to jump, pulling my hand free of Wren’s and off of Sek’su. We both look at the heavy leather that serves as a door to the room. My stomach ties into knots and a low-key anger rises.

“No,” a deep, rumbling voice says.

I know that voice. I’d know that voice anywhere. The way it rumbles affects me physically. My body responds with a flood of need and desire. Khiara is outside the door.

“The people have a right to know!”

The anger flares as I recognize the other voice. My hands ball into fists and I stride towards the door, ready to give that jerk a piece of my mind.

“It’s not worth it,” Wren calls. “Let him handle it.”

I look over my shoulder, not wanting her to be right, but knowing she is.

“He has no right,” I protest.

Wren nods in agreement.

“No, he doesn’t. But you know him. Do you think anything you say or do is going to make any difference? He’ll twist it all to his own ends.”

“Someone needs to make him see!” I don’t mean to raise my voice, but I’m so frustrated it comes out as a shout. Which I am sure that ass outside the door hears. “This isn’t right.”

Wrenlee walks around the table, coming to a stop right in front of me.

“No, it’s not. But he’s a paparazzi and more, he’s the worst of them. He was one on the ship too. You know his reputation as well as I do. The great Neil Partee. He embraces being called the ‘mole’ because he’s the one who digs up the most ‘dirt’ on us.

It never mattered that most of the dirt wasn’t true or was only enough truth to fit the narrative he’d already written. He’s a reporter Say, but more he’s the worst of their kind. The kind that already has the story written in his head. Anything we say or do will only fit into the framework he’s already conceived.”

She takes my hands in hers and only then do I realize I’m trembling. Rage burns in my chest like one of the fiery red suns that blast the surface of Tajss. Tears fill my eyes, blurring my vision.

“It’s not right,” I mutter.

“No, it’s not,” Wren says. “It never was. Him and all his cohorts, created us. Icons for them to build up and then to destroy at their whims. Manipulating the people with their publications. Keeping them distracted from their troubles or, I suspect, things that were happening on the ship.”

“He didn’t make me.” I reject the idea with a shake of my head, but Wren silently squeezes my hands. “No. I’m me, he’s… an asshole.”

“Yes, he is,” she agrees. “And not you, not the Say who is my best friend. But the Saylor whose name was in lights along with mine? The Saylor who’s every fashion choice was dissected and examined. Whose every affair was broadcast through the ship? That almost mythical creature who’s every misstep was known? You don’t think they created us?”

“I never asked for it,” I grumble.

“None of us did, but we all played our part. We still do. And they need us. It’s the biggest thing I came to realize when I fell in love with Sek’su. We played a role, we all knew it and when they needed us again after the wreck of the ship, we all stepped back into our parts.”

“I don’t want to be a part.”

“Yes, you do,” she says. “Because knowing you’re playing a role gives you power. You’re in control if you know. We can make better decisions than we ever did before. We can use what they give us to help.”

I do like the idea of helping. And she and I had more than enough conversations about this very thing when she was figuring it out for me to deny she’s right. It doesn’t get rid of my rage towards Neil who is a terrible person by any objective view.

“Ach-urgh, stop. You’re hurting me!” Neil shouts as the sounds of a scuffle come from the door.

My heart beats faster with excitement. Wren is right. Letting Khiara handle this is much, much better. I only wish we could see what is happening.

“No,” Khiara says again, calm as can be. “This is not hurting.”

“It is! No, put me down. No. Don’t. Stop. You can’t… I’m press… I’m Neil… you can’t… achhh.”

His voice becomes distant. Khiara is carrying him away and I can only imagine by the choking sound of his words that he did so by a good grip on his neck. Khiara’s hands are more than big enough to fit right around almost any human’s neck without much effort and god knows he’s strong enough.

I look over at Wren and a wide smile spreads over my face. She smiles too, nodding, then walks back over to Sek’su.

“Told you,” she says.

A moment later my mate pulls the leather aside, filling the door. My knees go weak, my breath is ragged, and my heart races.