Page 22 of Swept By The Alien Pirate Prince

He released a loud belch directly after. His eyes were dazed and clouded over, unable to focus on anything around him.

His movements were unhinged and jerky. The bourbon sloshed around in the bottom of the bottle every time he moved. The liquid drained down another inch or two with every giant glug he took.

“Cyburn,” I whispered.

“What?” His voice was devoid of emotion.

“Talk to me, please.” I padded closer to him.

He still didn’t lift his head.

When I stopped in front of him, his jaw tightened.

“What’s wrong?” I whispered and sat down next to him. His anxiousness was sendingmyanxiety through the roof.

The bedsprings made a tiny squeaking noise as it yielded to another person sitting on the mattress edge.

“You won’t understand,” Cyburn said in the same flat tone he’d used a moment ago.

“Try me.” I lifted my hand to cup over his, but at the last second, I pulled it away and placed it back in my lap.

Cyburn sighed and raised his back from its hunched position. He cracked his knuckles and stared straight ahead.

“If we are in danger, or if there is something else that I need to know about to prepare myself for another fight—”

“It’s nothing like that,” Cyburn cut me off and finally steered his gaze in my direction. His black eyes were wide with fear.

“What is it then?” I searched his face for clues, but other than the dread in his eyes, he wore a poker face.

Cyburn looked away, saying nothing.

“Cyburn, I thought you said we made it to a safer part of the asteroid belt and were headed to a neutral outer world?” I tried not to let the frustration rise in my voice, but it was difficult to keep it hidden. It was like pulling teeth. Cyburn wouldn’t budge.

“I don’t know what to do,” Cyburn said.

His expression was a million miles away, and he was emotionally distant. We didn’t touch, but there was a thick tension between us that I was desperate to slice through.

“Do about what?” I lifted my hand again to stroke his back, but my fingers fell short and once again, my hand retreated to my lap.

“Amada.” The word came out as a painful whine on his lips as if he were a child who had just skinned his knee and needed consoling.

“She’s gone,” I reminded him. “Off to join forces with the Belic.”

Cyburn’s eyes turned waxy, and his bottom lip poked out. “No.” He shook his head as his voice cracked with despair. “She won’t ever make it to their fleet.”

“What are you talking about?” My heart hammered in my chest as I studied him.

Cyburn stood up and walked to the window. He pulled up the shades and stared out into the daunting, black abyss.

“They left her.”

“They left her?” I asked. “I thought she hadn’t reached their ships yet.”

Cyburn turned around. His expression was twisted in emotional agony. “She never will.”

“Why?” It was a good thing I was already sitting, because I felt like my knees would collapse if I tried to stand.

Cyburn belched again and stumbled backward. He used his outstretched arm to web his opened fingers and flattened palm against the wall. He sturdied himself, his eyes darting at a dizzying pace around the room.

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