War Bride (Battle Born #7)(18)



“That Tonn had used the ship’s main production kiosk to print the dresses.” Her mouth dried out as his intense stare lingered on her face. She took a quick sip of wine before adding, “Again the quality was too fine. Besides, why would a military ship catalogue the patterns for female garments?”

“Your logic has been flawless so far. Do you have a final conclusion?”

“I wondered if you were a pirate. Of course, pirates don’t generally bother with uniforms.”

He filled her plate with small portions from several of the dishes before handing it back to her. “I’m not a pirate.”

“I know. Tonn told me you’re a general.” Anger sparked within his eyes, confirming her suspicions, so she quickly amended, “He didn’t actually say the word, so please don’t punish him. It was a minor slip and I wasn’t sure until you reacted just now.” Kryton said nothing as she picked up her fork and studied her plate. Nothing looked familiar, but at least he wasn’t sticking to the eat-from-my-hand and drink-from-my-lips stipulations. She’d heard that Rodyte food was spicy, so she took a tiny bite of everything before deciding what to eat. “How long have you served in the military?”

“My entire adult life.” He wasn’t paying much attention to his food as he shoveled it into his mouth. Apparently, she was much more interesting than the contents of his plate. “Why do you ask?”

“I’m curious about you,” she admitted softly. “Is that allowed?”

He set down his fork and took a drink of wine. His expression was inscrutable, as usual. She didn’t think he’d answer, then he asked, “What do you want to know?”

His indulgence wouldn’t last long. She needed to make her questions count. “Do you have a morautu?” It was a foolish question. Even if he had a chosen mate stashed away somewhere, why would he tell her?

He quickly took another drink, but not before she saw speculation gleaming in his eyes. “How would I form a mating bond with you if my morautu were still alive?”

So at one time, he had been bonded with his chosen mate. A layer of his protection peeled back and she sensed the pain deep inside him. She was tempted to ask what had happened, but the answer couldn’t be pleasant if the female was no longer alive. “Do you have children?”

As suddenly as his indulgent mood appeared, it vanished. “Eat. You’re too damn skinny.”

She nearly laughed at the claim. She was anything but skinny. Her round hips and fleshy thighs made many fashionable styles impossible for her to wear. Still, compared to him, she was tiny. She took a long drink of wine before she said, “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“I’m not upset. I’m tired. It’s been a long day.”

She knew an excuse when she heard one. She had upset him. “Neither of us is eating much. Will all this food go to waste?”

He shook his head. “Nearly everything on a spaceship is recycled. Nothing goes to waste.”

That made her feel a little better, but she still had so many questions. Perhaps he’d answer if the question was less personal. “Have Rodytes figured out a way to circumvent the mating bond?”

His eyes widened and he pushed his plate aside. Clearly, she’d surprised him. “What led you to such a wild conclusion?”

Unraveling mysteries had always appealed to her and this question had been rattling around in her head since long before her abduction. Her prophetic dreams had warned her that she would become a war bride, so she tried to learn as much as possible about the situation. “You planned to capture me, selected me from a list of females. I presume they were all genetically compatible with you.” He didn’t confirm or argue with her statement, so she continued. “Such is not always the case. I know of many war brides who were not personally targeted. They were captured during battle or were simply the victim of circumstance.”

After a silent pause, he pointed out, “Those are statements not questions.”

She’d started this by asking a specific question. He was the one who had evaded the answer. If he wanted specific questions, she’d give them to him. “How are war brides impregnated if they’re not genetically compatible with their captors?”

He stood and covered the dishes then refilled their wineglasses. “It’s better, safer, for both male and female if they’re genetically compatible. But we now have a compound that makes the mating bond unnecessary. The scientist who created the compound is working hard to make the procedure safer. Right now it’s extremely dangerous for both male and female.”

“Then why do they do it? Why endanger two lives when the outcome is so unpredictable?”

“You’d have to be Rodyte to understand.”

“You’re Rodyte.” She stood as well, but moved to the opposite end of the table, creating a barrier between them. “Explain it to me.”

His eyes narrowed and he snatched his wineglass off the table. “Are you mocking me?”

“No. I’m trying to understand you, trying to find something resembling common ground.”

Slowly, he raised his glass and took a sip. His gaze never left her and his free hand clenched into a tight fist. Clearly he was conflicted, but she couldn’t determine the specific factors clashing inside his mind. With one quick scan she could find out. She’d have access to his emotions as well as his thoughts. But she’d taken a vow when her abilities manifested, promised not to read anyone’s mind without their permission.

Cyndi Friberg's Books