Page 47 of Orc's Forbidden Claim

“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 sunsthat 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.

32

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