Polaris Rising (Consortium Rebellion, #1)(6)

“Afraid?”

“Smart,” I countered. He grunted.

Ships and stations usually operated on Universal Standard Time, so it was the clock I was accustomed to. And right now, it was well after midnight. I needed to talk to Loch about a possible alliance, but I needed to be on point to get it right—I couldn’t just steamroll over him like I’d done with the captain.

He leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes. All of that glorious skin and muscle was on display, which prompted a question. “Why’d they strip you?”

He cracked an eye at me. “Easier than patting me down after I kept coming up with shivs. It seems they didn’t share my appreciation of a good blade. You going to talk all night?”

“Maybe. Would you like me to lull you to sleep with tales of the captain’s tablecloth?”

His groan was answer enough.



I slept fitfully through the first half of the night. I kept imagining Loch prowling closer, which would jolt me awake. But every time I checked, he sat on his side of the cell. After the fourth time, I eyed his chains, calculated the distance, and curled up on the end of the bed farthest from him. Lying down helped, and I slept better.

I awoke to the cell door banging open. “Rise and shine, princess. Captain says you get to use the crew head.” John, the blond merc who’d wrestled me into the ship, stood in the doorway. I could hear the derision in his voice when he mentioned the captain—perhaps Gerald wasn’t wrong about the crew plotting his demise.

I obediently followed him down the same path I’d taken last night, but instead of turning left into the captain’s quarters, we went right toward the crew quarters. More people were up and around this morning and more than one merc eyed me a little too long.

I passed another woman, but any hope of sympathy died when I met her baleful stare. She wore the dark camouflage fatigues that seemed to be the merc uniform and had her long hair braided down her back. Female mercenaries weren’t rare, but they generally preferred either more gender-balanced groups or higher-tier squads; being the only woman on a ship that could spend months in space was a tough gig, especially with the men that made up most of the merc squads—cream of the crop they were not.

John stopped and pushed open the door to the crew bathroom. “You get five minutes,” he said. “Then I’m coming in after you.” He held up a control tablet with a lecherous grin.

I stepped into the room and bolted the door. He could use the tablet to open the lock, but I wasn’t going to make it too easy for him. The room was tiny, but brightly lit and surprisingly clean. A toilet, sink, and shower were the only features. No towels or personal items were anywhere to be found. I took care of business then splashed water on my face. I’d love a shower, but there was no way I was taking my clothes off on this ship.

A glance in the mirror revealed dark under-eye circles that made my eyes appear more gray than blue. My deep brown hair stuck up in every direction. Without a brush, there was only so much I could do, so I French-braided it to contain the worst of it. My upper arms sported fading bruises from where the mercs had grabbed me.

The lock clicked open and the door swung inward. “Time’s up, princess,” John said. He looked disappointed that I was fully clothed and merely standing in front of the sink. It had been less than three minutes.

He pulled me out by my upper arm and made a show of dragging me back to my cell. I let him pull me along instead of ruining the show by easily pacing him. Picking my battles was a skill I’d learned the hard way while growing up, but one that I had eventually learned.

It took until my early teens for me to realize that banging my head against Father’s will got me nowhere. Feigning compliance while ultimately working toward my own goals worked much better. All of my siblings had learned to be crafty in their own way because the other option was to become a slave to Father’s will, and we were all too stubborn to let that happen.

I held my tongue—barely—as the merc shoved me into the cell. “I suggest you hug the door, princess. It’s exercise time.” With that parting shot, he closed and locked the door. A few seconds later, the whine of motors and distinctive sound of chain links hitting the floor echoed through the cell.

As much as I hated obeying orders, I backed up until I was leaning against the door. Loch was still an unknown and with the amount of chain spooling out, he was going to have the run of the cell. I didn’t think the merc was stupid enough to actually let Loch reach me, but it would be close.

“That merc must really hate you,” Loch said. He rolled to his feet in a movement so smooth it was a thing of beauty. Or it would’ve been, if I didn’t feel like a gazelle mesmerized by a lion.

“I’m pretty sure he’s the one I nailed in the knee,” I said, watching Loch warily. “Then I didn’t try for a shower, so he couldn’t drag me out naked. I think I ruined his week.”

“Do you think he’s good at math?” Loch asked. He was still near his side of the cell, but he was looking at the chain coiled on the floor. “Shall we find out?”

Even knowing it was coming, the lunge was nearly too fast to see. The chains snapped taut with Loch less than a foot away. The merc had been okay at math, but he was bad at kinesiology because Loch leaned forward until his chest nearly brushed mine. Sure, his arms and legs couldn’t reach me, but that didn’t mean I was safe.