Page 18 of Stars in Umbra
She stared at their skin, which pulsed with light, flowing up their veins with a golden illumination.
‘These demi-gods’ beauty is blowing my mind,’ she murmured to Sheba, raising her glass of fizzing lemonade-laced champagne, ‘They take the word glow to another level.’
Sheba leaned closer. ‘Are they true immortals or is that just excellent moisturizer?’
‘They are pure deities, believe it or not,’ Rina replied dryly. ‘Issa’s family is from one of the Most High’s lineages of the Seventh Heaven. From the ethereal city of Sivania. Those glittering beauties over there?’ She angled her chalice in their direction. ‘They’re upper-order emissaries. Their luminous skinis one of the side effects of their celestial DNA, which contains enhanced photosynthetic dermal reflectivity.’
Sheba squinted. ‘Stop. That sounds like bullshit.’
‘I’m on the Pegasi United Galactic Military board and the attache to your sister, the Dunian Prime. I get intel reports and I know my shit.’
‘The nurse and medic in me bows to your nerd credentials.’
‘Colonel nerd credentials,’ Rina corrected with a wink, just as a massive shadow stalked by their table.
He moved with purpose; fluid, silent, lethal, a savagery scarcely restrained.
Rina jolted as his eyes locked with hers as he prowled past.
He moved like a war machine, broad shoulders and thick thighs swinging with grace, his formal wear clinging to each inch of his hulking, muscled frame.
Damn, even his gait was a striding threat.
He sliced his eyes away, and she was left staring,hard.
She’d seen military personnel in every shape, some so overbuilt they resembled caricatures. There was nothing inconsequential about Mo.
He was all lethal precision and sculpted power, a weapon wrapped in skin, forged for war and built to ruin.
Her tongue flicked out to wet her lower lip as he stalked to the bar.
A sudden compunction came over her, and she leaned toward the next woman at the table. ‘Harlow?’
Harlow Sable, Kage’s wife, glanced up from where she was spoon-feeding her three-year-old.
At the same time, she used her other hand to muster her five-year-old, who was attempting to scale the table and upend a tray of desserts over their head. ‘Hmm?’
‘First of all, can I help with the kids?’ she offered.
Harlow shot her a conspiratorial smile. ‘Nada, I’m good,sante.’
She then twisted to her daughter and narrowed her unusual amethyst eyes at the child.
The youngster developed a sudden case of demureness and slid back into her seat with a whisper. ‘Sorry, mama.’
Harlow turned to Rina and Sheba, waggling her brows. ‘No words needed, just a stare.’
They all chuckled.
‘You’ve got motherhood down to an art,’ Rina chortled.
‘You better believe it. You were asking?’ Harlow prompted.
‘Oh yes, I wanted to know a little about Mo,’ Rina murmured. ‘What do you know about him?’
Harlow’s lips curled as her dancing gaze flicked over to the bar where the man in question was leaning over the counter. ‘Did he just make your ovaries sigh?’
Sheba laughed and rolled her eyes. ‘He so did. See, Rina’s been on outbound missions and then back to base for four months, training, running combat drills, sleeping in a cot with the stuffing clawed out. She needs a break now and then. A curving of her spine with him over there will do her well enough.’
