Page 16 of Rook
Your mate will drive you mad.
If some human on a backwater planet could make him feel this way, he shuddered to think what his dragon-mate would make him feel. He hoped he never met her. The thought was terrifying.
He forced himself to melt deeper into the trees, pulling away from the clearing. Away from him, there was no reason for the fugitives to chase her. She was just one person among billions. She would be safe.
Even if it didn’t feel that way.
He turned and headed back toward the ranger station. The fugitives had found his camp, but they hadn't yet found his ship. It was shielded, cloaked so that scanning tech from Vemion would struggle to pick it out. Still, he didn't want to risk going back there now. A single careless move could expose everything.
He needed to talk to someone, he realized. To get his head on straight. He was too far into his own thoughts, last night’s tension knotting his insides. And there was only one group of people in this galaxy stubborn enough to give him advice he might actually heed: his brothers, Vex and Zane.
As the eldest, Rook hated to admit he might need advice. He’d always been the one to issue orders and take the blows first. But he wasn’t fool enough to put it off any longer.
He found a sheltered hollow among a ring of huge pines. With careful hands, he drew out his communicator and set it on the ground. It glimmered with faint blue light, reading his signature. He initiated the call. After several moments, the air flickered with static that resolved into two figures before him, ghostly but vivid.
Zane was the first to move, arms folded insolently across his chest. Wild dark hair fell in a rakish swoop over one eye, his smirk quick and sharp. Vex stood a half-head taller, his bearing as strict as a royal guard. Where Zane vibrated with restless energy, Vex was all iron restraint.
Zane gave an exaggerated look around, his mouth making a long O as he surveyed Rook’s surroundings. “This doesn’t look like Rook’s cruiser, does it, Vex?”
Vex furrowed his brow, scanning the moss and sagging pine behind Rook. “I can’t say it does. If I’m not mistaken, those are the forests of Earth.”
Rook suppressed a snarl.
Zane rocked back on his heels, grinning. “I always pictured your exile would be on some desert moon, not a mud pit.”
Vex’s lips twitched. “Have you finished the mission, or did you just want to chat?”
Rook’s jaw ticked. He had little patience for games. “Fine, yes,” he relented. “Your help may have been appreciated. The situation is more complex than anticipated.”
Zane snorted. “You mean the fugitives didn’t fall to the ground in fear once they saw you?”
“They did not,” Rook said, his tone flat.
“And they fought back when you attempted to use your fire against them?” That was from Vex.
“Yes.”
“Injured you?” Vex’s eyes narrowed on his left shoulder as if he could see beneath the battered shirt.
How did they always know? He straightened, shifting his posture to hold his left shoulder back. The healing salve had worked. It barely twinged.
“You need us,” Zane said lightly, stretching his arms overhead.
“I can handle this myself.” He clenched his fists. This was a mistake.
Zane leaned closer, peering at Rook. “Yes, going to Earth alone was a mistake,” he snapped back. “Which is why we asked you to wait two days for us to be ready to travel. But no, the mighty Lord Rook needs to do it all himself.” He rolled his eyes.
“That’s enough,” Rook snapped.
“Do you want us to come help clean up your mess?” Zane raised an eyebrow.
“No.” He would eat glass before he asked for help.
“Then I don’t know why you’re calling. I’ll see you at your funeral.” Zane’s figure blinked out, leaving Rook alone with Vex.
A heavy silence settled.
“He’s in a mood,” Rook offered.
