Page 24 of Kian

Instead, she stretched out on her narrow bed beside the baby’s cradle, willing herself to go to sleep.

She could hear deep voices speaking low and then the occasional rumble of laughter coming from the table.

She had met her daughter today, and come to a new land with strange geography and a whole crew of interesting people.

But her wicked mind would only show her visions of Kian, his muscles bulging, a Grummish girl on each side of him, stroking his chest and abs, rubbing their bodies against his.

The combination of jealousy and desire created a wet agony between her legs that she didn’t dare to touch, though it throbbed and almost seemed to cry for relief. She was far from the others in the dark corner of the longhouse, but another being might be able to see or scent what she was doing anyway.

Instead, she squeezed her eyes shut and begged the gods to allow her a merciful slumber.

9

KINSLEY

After what felt like hours of tossing and turning, Kinsley woke from a dead sleep to utter chaos.

All around her, frightened voices shouted in multiple languages.

She opened her eyes, but it was still too dark to see much. On the other end of the longhouse, people were scrambling. Someone had activated a palm light, so she could just make out the shapes of them.

She slid out of bed as quickly as she could, instinctively moving to the cradle and scooping her sleeping daughter out to strap her against her chest.

The little one merely snuggled in and kept sleeping, her sweet scent at odds with the disturbance in the dark longhouse.

Kinsley scanned the moving people, afraid to cry out.

Suddenly, a big body was barreling toward her, blocking out the pale light.

She froze, uncertain which way to go.

“Kinsley,” Kian growled.

Hearing his voice had her almost collapsing in relief.

“What’s happening?” she whispered.

“Bandits are trying to steal the load,” Kian told her. “Stay here with the whelp. Do not come outside, no matter what.”

She was still trying to get her mind around what he’d said when he pressed something cold and hard into her hand.

A laser dagger.

“I’d give you a blaster,” he said, clearly misunderstanding her disbelief, “but the fuel cells can freeze out here. If you’re not careful, they can blow up in your face.”

“I-I’ve never—” she began.

He nodded, understanding.

“Just switch it on and stick it into whatever is in your way,” he told her. “Safety’s off, so keep your finger off the button unless you’re ready to stab someone. Andstay here.”

It hit her that things must be bad outside, very bad, if he was handing her a weapon.

“Don’t you need my help out there?” she asked.

Shouts rent the cold night air, sending a shiver down her spine.

“This is your job,” he told her. “Keeping her safe.”

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