Page 49 of Star Mates

She turned to the viewscreen and stared at the glittering stars, wishing there was someplace safe to go. This was a dangerous world, and she couldn’t trust anyone, and that included the person sitting next to her. Logan might say he’s trying to make amends, but a little voice in the back of her mind kept whispering that perhaps he only saved her because he’d need something to negotiate, incase they ended up back in Lord Palazio’s grip.

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The internal clock on the pod’s viewscreen announced it had been three days since they’d found themselves lingering in space. Emmarie had discovered a whole new definition to the phrase bored out of one’s mind. She tried to keep herself occupied by singing but her vocal cords could only take so much. Logan had tried playing word games with her, but she wasn’t ready to get comfortable with him. The wound of his betrayal was still too fresh. They’d fallen mostly to monosyllabic communication with each other.

Emmarie mostly slept. In dreams she could be with Pell again, they could be a family, together. It was a strange type of hell dreaming of his hands upon her, touching her, bringing her to heavenly delights, only to wake up before the climax and realizing there might be a possibility she’ll never see him again. He’d gone on a suicidal mission, one that had killed his parents, and she was afraid history was repeating itself. What would she tell their son or daughter? Would he or she grow up with the same blind drive to avenge a man he’d never really known?

She wanted to cry but her tears were almost all dried up. She couldn’t feel sorry for herself when she was at least free, for right now, of the Unarian hold. What had happened to the others? Had they been recaptured? Slaughtered for their uprising? Sent to be slaves?

On the fifth day of their brash escape from the ship, the pod’s computer began to chirp. Logan immediately went into action, reading the scribbles being displayed. Emmarie waited, her breath held in terror and her mind racing with thoughts of what, or who, had found them.

“It’s an encoded Durian message,” he said, a bit stunned. “They found us.”

Emmarie closed her eyes, silently thanking whatever God had followed them to the Amarante System, that good luck was with them. She placed her hand over her belly and gave a tender, little smile.

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