Page 15 of Bound

“I need to check first,” he growls, and with a flick of his giant wings, he stalks away towards the cabin area. “Wait here.”

I hang back, watching him leave, turn the corner, and disappear. Rych surely can’t believe there is an assassin on board? Like everything, Fenek has this ship coded to our DNA, as well as his own. No one else should have been able to get in. Clearly, Rych doesn’t trust the tech.

And after all, the assassin nearly got to us before, so I guess the tech isn’t everything. Or everything Fenek wants it to be.

I sit down on one of the comfortable seats which dot the living area. Above me is a wide open viewing window, which means I can look up at the unfamiliar stars, both closer and farther away than they were when we were on the ground. I’m not keen on these flights. The pressure makes breathing harder for me, my lungs still weak from the virus. I do my best not to panic, to keep my heart rate down. Not to think about assassins or anything else.

Just the swish of feathers and the scent of cinnamon.

“Little spark?” Rych’s deep, warm voice penetrates my thoughts. “Were you sleeping?” he asks as my massive bodyguard resolves into his bare-chested form.

I stretch a little, find it hurts, and stop.

“I don’t much like these flights,” I say, words unfiltered tripping off my tongue.

“It is entirely safe,” Rych says, gazing down at me.

I think about how warm and comfortable his arms are…and how I eschewed them because he didn’t ask before picking me up.

“No assassins?” I query.

“No assassins. Your person is secure.”

“I’ve never had it called that before.” I laugh, wriggling painfully to sit up. Rych offers me his hand.

I look at it for a second, then take it. As before, it’s warm, softer than I’d have imagined, and he helps me sit.

“What do you wish, little spark?”

I probably should go to bed, get some rest on this overnight flight, but for the first time in a long time, I don’t want to.

“Should we get something to eat?” I suggest, half expecting him to shy away from my offer.

Rych’s smile widens. But then I’ve seen him consume vast amounts of food. A creature his size has to be constantly hungry.

I order up a selection of dishes, some of which I saw him eat the at Feneks along with a few things I find palatable, from the onboard automated kitchen. Within minutes, they arrive in the hot boxes next to the large table. Rych removes them, placing them out carefully, making sure they’re positioned in a pleasing way. I watch him as he takes his time with the arrangement, his face serious, brow furrowed as he concentrates on his task.

“Eat,” he growls at me.

“After you,” I say.

I shouldn’t have spoken. With a low roar from Rych, I find myself on his lap in the blink of an eye.

“You will eat, little spark. I will ensure it.”

RYCH

My feathers itch like crazy. I can hardly function with the desire to create a nest for myeregri.

No, not myeregri. My charge. My boss’s employee. The one creature in the entire galaxy who should be mine and the one I cannot touch.

Should not touch.

Am touching.

Chrissie sits on my lap, her scent entirely intoxicating, like I’ve drunk an entire barrel of mead-ale. I can hardly see the dishes she ordered and the ones my nesting nature had to set out in a way which should be the most pleasing.

I need her to be pleased. I need it more than breathing.

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