Page 24 of The Edge of Dawn

Ashrael stared at him for a moment, his sightless eyes filled with darkness and mistrust.

Dragek forced himself to go still. He withdrew his ka’qui and tried his very best to radiate neutral intent.

“Fine,” the Silent One said after a long pause during which both of them hardly breathed. The air around them grew thick with tension. “Now, tell me what the fuck you were doing just now.”

“What in the Nine Hells are you talking about?” He decided to mess with the bastard just a little. What else was he supposed to do with someone so infallible? Ashrael was infuriatingly perfect. Devastating fighter, moral objector, mated to a powerful human. Dragek wanted to get under his skin—just because.

So he feigned ignorance for a moment, even though he knew Ashrael would unmask him sooner or later.

He also knew that it was probably a good thing if the human was found by them. If she was being chased by malign forces, then it was better to be under the protection of the Darkstar. Tarak and Ashrael were noble to that extent. They would always act benevolently toward an innocent human.

If he knew all that, then why did they irritate him so much?

“You… just now, when you were rendered unconscious. I reached out with my ka’qui and found an empty vessel. Breathing and pulse intact, but that was it. There was no consciousness within your body, or if it was there, it was very faint—undetectable to me.”

“So there are things that even the notorious Ashrael doesn’t know.”

“Don’t be obtuse. You know very well what I’m talking about. You intentionally departed your body. Why… and how?”

“If I knew, I wouldn’t have done it.”

“Ah.”

Surely, Ashrael would understand that there was no way he would willingly leave his body like that—especially in his presence. To be so utterly defenseless in the notorious assassin’s presence was akin to walking naked into a swarm of vakkandik flies.

He would have been at the assassin’s mercy, completely vulnerable and helpless. Ashrael could have ended him at any moment.

The thought was infuriating. Dragek made a silent vow never to put himself in such a situation again.

If he had to become better, faster, more lethal, then so be it.

“Take it easy,” Ashrael said softly. “I wouldn’t be so quick to kill you. You still haven’t chosen your path.”

“I’m here, am I not?”

“Under some duress.”

“I’m doing this of my own free will. Otherwise, you would have needed to put me in restraints and throw me into stasis under heavy sedation.”

“You were a fucking handful when we first detained you.”

“I don’t need to be reminded,” Dragek snarled, baring his fangs. “That was not by my own free will. This is different.”

To his surprise, Ashrael’s aura softened, and a solemn expression crossed his elegant features. But still, he didn’t release Dragek from his unrelenting grip. “Understood—better than you might think. Now… tell me what you were doing just now.”

His tone was unexpectedly gentle—deceptively so.

Dragek still didn’t trust him, although, strangely enough, part of him wanted to. Ashrael was probably the only being in the Universe who could understand the extent of the disconnect he was experiencing right now.

From being under the complete control of a vile being to this…

Another master. And an infinitely more dangerous one if he made the wrong move. But Tarak wasn’t like the old Imperial Overlords. For some reason, he inspired great loyalty amongst his followers, including Ashrael.

There had to be a reason all those battle-hardened bastards had pledged allegiance to the General, and it wasn’t out of fear. There was nothing to hold them in check, nothing to stop a mutiny from occurring.

Only pure loyalty.

Dragek didn’t completely understand it, but it was obvious there were benefits to serving under this man. He saw the freedom Tarak’s warriors had. Aside from their missions and training commitments, they seemingly roamed around at will, free to enjoy leisure and camaraderie.

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