Page 21 of Shadows of Stardust

“I did. It was great to have the chance to—”

She doesn’t get to finish her sentence before he leans in and presses his mouth to hers, one of his hands cradling the back of her head to pull her close.

I can’t contain the curl of disgust on my lip.

Kissing, the research called it.

A revolting mash of mouths, apparently meant to communicate desire and affection. It’s something humans seem to be quite fond of, a part of their mating ritual meant to stoke passion.

Only… Roslyn does not seem to enjoy it.

She braces both her hands on Rhevar’s shoulders, attempting to dislodge his amorous attentions, but has no success in getting him off her.

I move without thinking.

One moment, I’m surrounded by the jungle’s darkness, and the next I have my hand on the back of the male’s tunic, jerking him away from her. He goes sprawling onto the rocky ground, landing flat on his ass.

“What the fuck is—”

His words die in his throat when he gets a look at me.

“Is it Vas-Greshiran custom to force yourself on an unwilling female, or are you just a particularly unctuous representation of your species?”

“What the hell?” Roslyn steadies herself, and there are indignant flames burning in her eyes as she takes in the two males before her. “What are you doing?”

I scoff.

What amIdoing?

Did shewanthim plastered to her like an over-eager, fumbling youth?

“It’s my job to keep order amongst the contestants. Which includes preventing assault.”

“It wasn’t assault,” she spits back. “We were kissing.”

“And were you enjoying it?”

More flames in those emerald eyes, and though she seethes at the question, she doesn’t answer.

Rhevar gets himself back on his feet and sucks in a sharp breath. “Gods, I’m sorry, Roslyn. I didn’t know that you weren’t—”

“Don’t apologize,” she snaps, then softens at his flinch. “I mean, sorry… It was fine. I just… I wasn’t expecting it and I was… it was fine.”

I’d almost feel pity for the dejected look on the male’s face if I weren’t still barely keeping a leash on my anger over his treatment of Roslyn. Any idiot could tell she wanted him off her.

“Is there a problem here?”

All three of us turn.

The show’s executive producer herself, Marva, strides out of the jungle with a few lower-ranking producers trailing behind her. Sella is among them, and she makes straight for Roslyn, bracing a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“Our cameras picked up interference by a guard,” Marva continues, topaz brow furrowed and eyes narrowing as they land on me. “Care to explain?”

“This male was assaulting Roslyn.”

“He was not!” Roslyn bursts out, more silent daggers thrown my way in her fiercely displeased glare before she addresses Marva. “It was just… a misunderstanding. Nothing that needed any intervention.”

I huff a skeptical breath and she glares at me again.

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