Page 124 of Decadence

“It’s… complicated,” Sienna said softly. “Where’s Cleo?”

“Sleeping on the couch next door. She’s fine, just exhausted. The past few days have been completely crazy. She—” Before Emmett could say another word, the big warrior called Zarken loomed up beside him, his face pure thunder.

“You would dare lay your hands on my Commander’s mate like that? You would dare express such intimacy with her, as if you were—”

Fearing an imminent slaughter, Sienna put her body between them and threw up her hands. “Hey, Zarken. Stop.” She stared into the cold ruby-colored eyes of a fully armed, armor-clad Kordolian warrior who towered above her.

She wasn’t scared, though.

He was Ikriss’s man.

He would never hurt her.

“You would consent to such inappropriate behavior?” Zarken stared right through her, the way a hunting wolf might look at its prey. “Mated females do not accept the touch of another male. I will not allow you to insult my Commander by acting so dishonorably.”

Sensing the dangerous aura that radiated from the Kordolian, Sienna froze, feeling both indignant and a little wary. The greeting from Emmett hadn’t been anything out of the ordinary—for humans, anyway. It was a greeting between friends who had known each other for a very long time—and who shared not a single shred of sexual attraction between them.

She would never betray Ikriss. To her, the thought was just absurd. He was too intense; too Ikriss.

He had engulfed her completely.

How could she ever consider anyone but him?

This was just a miscommunication; a human versus Kordolian thing.

“Zarken,” she said slowly, cautiously. “There’s something you need to understand about humans. Just because I’m friends with a guy, doesn’t mean I’m interested in him… in a, uh, mating kind of way. Sometimes, we hug and kiss as a sign of friendship. There are different ways to hug and kiss and be affectionate. It doesn’t necessarily mean we’re being intimate.”

The warrior’s expression didn’t change one whit. Clearly, he wasn’t convinced.

A wave of frustration rose up inside Sienna. Ikriss was out there on some dangerous mission to retrieve her friend, and this Kordolian was acting like a dick.

She didn’t have time for this shit. If the Kordolians were so intent on coming to Earth and seducing human women, then they were going to have to wrap their heads around a few things, otherwise someone would end up giving someone else the wrong look and accidentally spark off a war.

“Look,” she huffed, putting her hands on her hips and staring right back at the warrior, who loomed over her threateningly. “I’m not going to change the way I do things just because of your over-the-top Kordolian male possessiveness. The fact of the matter is, some of my friends just so happen to be male, and one of the ways humans greet each other is through physical touch. That doesn’t mean I’m going to betray Ikriss in any way, shape, or form. I would never. He’s mine, and I know he’s not so dumb that he’d go ballistic over something so trivial.” Anger bled into her voice. She thrust her jaw forward and glared at Zarken, growing more and more infuriated that he would even insinuate that she could ever do anything to hurt Ikriss.

It was just a misunderstanding, but still…

It got under her skin.

Zarken treated her to a little more of his stone-cold glare… but then the ice in his eyes started to melt, and his expression softened. It was almost imperceptible, but she’d been around Kordolians enough to be able to pick it. “A cultural misunderstanding,” he grunted, taking a step back. “Huh. Fortunately for you, and most fortunately for him, I believe you.”

“Even if she was available, I wouldn’t be interested in her anyway,” Emmett said quietly.

“What do you mean?” Zarken said, equally quiet, but a lot more menacing.

“I’m not into chicks.”

“Chicks?”

“Women. Females. XX. Not my type,” said Emmett lightly as he turned and retrieved his almost-finished macchiato. He took a long sip and set down the small cup, shooting the big warrior a challenging look.

“Ah,” said Zarken, and all of a sudden his expression changed. It was as if a light bulb had gone on inside his head.

“Upsetting the natives already, I see, Zar,” boomed a deep voice from beyond the entrance. A heartbeat later, another big red-eyed Kordolian appeared.

This one wore the same close-fitting black armor as Ikriss and Zarken, only his was slightly different; a little more seamless and organic looking. A pair of massive sword hilts emerged from behind, giving him the vibe of some sort of bad-ass medieval fantasy character.

“Nythian,” Zarken grunted. “What are you doing here?”

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