Page 67 of Game on Askole

“Sarah?”

“Yes, I’m here, and I’ll never leave you.”

His fury hit me like a blow.“Have you lost your senses? Go. Now. Do not contact me again. It is too dangerous. Snoor cannot know about you.”

“Snoor? The rebel? Dangerous? I’m a fighter pilot and face death every fucking day. Do not use that as an excuse.”

Our link snapped.

“You goddamned sonovabitch.”I searched for him and found nothing. My psychic bond with Tihar was gone again. “Arrgh!” I kicked the shit out of a trash container.

After that, I was still able to catch a few fleeting glimpses of Tihar’s life. Mostly when he was in a dim shithole of a bar and drunk on his ass. Was he blowing off steam with his warriors? Or blending in with his enemy? Why did he think Snoor was a threat to me?

* * * *

Almost a year later, the rebels were finally defeated. There was still sporadic fighting along the western front, and even though the head rebel, Snoor, had escaped, Tihar had to be entitled to a little R&R.

A part of me was giddy with excitement at the thought of being reunited with the love of my life. Another part of me was sick with worry. Had the long separation damaged our mental bond? Did Tihar still love me?

Instead of getting a message from Tihar saying he was coming for me, I was notified that Sariel wanted to speak with me. My gut clenched in fear.Please don’t let Tihar be dead. Please don’t let Tihar be dead.

Sensing my distress, Musa flew into the room and settled on my shoulder. She jabbered urgently at me. I petted her head. “I know. I know. It’s gonna be okay. You’ll see. Tihar will come for us.”

KeeKee scampered up my leg.“Tihar come?”

“That’s what we’re going to find out.”I touched the icon, and Sariel’s fierce features filled the view screen. His expression was one of distaste as he spat a bunch of Askole gobbledygook. A mechanical voice translated it. “My son has realized you are not his chosen.”

Every bone, every muscle in my body reeled in shock. It wasn’t true. It couldn’t be true. “What are you talking about?”

There was a pause as the computer interpreted my words and the High Commander rattled off something in the Askole’s native tongue.

“You are inferior, child-size, and weak. You lack tentacles. You don’t have the skills to survive in our culture. Tihar has found an appropriate full-blooded Askole female to bear his children. Your bride contract had been nullified, and the credits returned to the Overlord.”

“What? None of this makes any sense. You said if we broke our psychic link, it would cause serious brain damage. You wanted me to mate with Tihar.”

Sariel spouted a bunch of guttural grunts and groans and some clucking. The translator said, “You misunderstood the situation.”

“The hell I did.” Something was rotten in Denmark. Tihar wouldn’t do this to me.

KeeKee asked,“Why he mean?”

A damn good question. “Where’s Tihar?”

The mechanical voice shot back, “My son is too busy to deal with you.”

But the Askole High Commander wasn’t? “Too busy doing what?”

“That is none of your concern. Once the contract was terminated, you lost all mate privileges. Any further attempt to contact Tihar is a breach of our laws, and you will be dealt with harshly. For your inconvenience, we will allow you to keep the Draconic, Musa,” the voice answered.

My inconvenience? Allow? I literally saw red. I bared my nice sharp fangs and in my best command voice demanded, “I want to talk with Tihar, face-to-face, now!”

“That is not possible.” The view screen went black.

That rude SOB had cut our vid link. Like that was going to stop me? I hit the Communications icon. A computerized voice announced,“The link is no longer available.”

Crap. The rebels had taken out the major satellite relay systems when the war began, and communications with that part of the galaxy was difficult at best.

All this time, I had come up with excuse after excuse for Tihar’s behavior. My rotten father-in-law was keeping him from me. The war had stopped his midnight visits. As commander of the western fleet, Tihar was too busy to link with me or Zarek. Or he was protecting me from some unknown danger. But, oh no, it was my lack of tentacles. I wanted to punch him right in the kisser.

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