Page 62 of Decadence

He had to.

Because for a sublime moment, he had stepped into his mate’s sanctuary; her little empire, the world she had so painstakingly created for herself.

He’d only just caught the tiniest glimpse of it when his dark world had collided with hers, destroying everything.

That would not do.

He would make it right, starting with this so-called Syndicate.

“Get me out of here and reconnect my comm.” He needed to speak to Lodan as soon as possible. The last he remembered, he’d asked the First Division warrior to chase after an irritating human insect that had dared harass his mate.

Ikriss was done with being calm and measured.

If he got even the slightest hint that this Connor was somehow involved in Sienna’s abduction, he would kill the bastard.

The headache was starting again, burrowing into his temples. Ikriss ignored it. The work would be good for him. It would help him take his mind—and his cock—off other pressing issues.

Heart intact or not; Mating Fever or not, he could still command this operation to its logical conclusion.

And the only logical conclusion, naturally, was for Ikriss to hunt down his mate’s—and by extension, his—enemies, and destroy them.

That was what he had always done.

Chapter Seventeen

Sienna quickly orientated herself in her new space. Despite the annoying absence of decent lighting, it didn’t take her long to find the shower and the wardrobe. She took a shower, meticulously cleaning the dried blood from her arms and hands and face. She found a set of soft cotton undergarments—in her size, of course; the Kordolians always seemed to know exactly what would fit—and a loose silky robe-like garment, which she tied snugly at her waist.

Then she remembered something.

It was lying on the floor of the wash-chamber, halfway out of her pocket.

The piece of paper Ikriss had given her.

His freaking CV.

Sienna bent over and snatched the folded-up paper from her crumpled pants.

She darted across to the sleeping-pod and tucked herself into the soft-as-sin black sheets.

Then she took a deep breath and held up the paper, her fingers trembling slightly.

Paper.

Soft, yet stiff. Cold. It felt weird. She could probably count on one hand the number of times she’d actually laid her hands on proper printing paper in her life.

She opened it.

It was only a single page, and the words were written in her native English, but they were printed in a neat, precise, weird looking font she’d never seen before.

Actually, she had seen it.

The font reminded her of the strange alien characters she’d seen on the various holo-devices the Kordolians used to view their data.

She stared at his name, which was printed at the top in small letters.

* * *

Ikriss Peturic

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