“Yes,” she’d managed. “Thank you.”
It had become obvious Diego had no intention of honoring her demand to drop her off his ship. Instead of a goodbye, Isolde had received new clothes, standard galactic foods, which she found quite good, developed to be suitable to the many species roaming space, and other things a “human female” could have found wanting.
All of this had been delivered to her on the general’s orders without her seeing him for days. Only once had he dropped by, in the same non-knocking way, to say something, but instead had taken one look at her and whatever he’d seen in her eyes had made him turn on his heels and leave. Two nights ago had been the first time she’d gotten to talk to him.
The general had nodded. His voice was cold and authoritative as he addressed her. She might have imagined it, but it sent unpleasant shivers up her spine. “As you know, we approach Briolina.”#p#分页标题#e#
Gathering courage explained only by the fact she still wasn’t dead, Isolde had dared to reply, “And you plan to take me there against my will.”
She’d liked his eyes from the very first moment she’d seen them, comparing them to an ocean’s endless deep blue. As the general lifted his gaze to hers, she was reminded that the ocean was cold – cold, merciless and deadly. Fear had gripped her heart and she’d stumbled away from him.
“If need be,” the general had said, low and threatening. “You would do well to remember why you are still alive.”
Isolde had nothing to say to that. She knew.
“Speaking of which,” he’d continued, “we will have to discuss how we present our image on Briolina soon. Faren and the new commander of the Fearless will join us in two days for a tactical meeting. You will attend. And for all intents and purposes, our binding has taken place as of now.”
No. She couldn’t do that. Isolde didn’t think she had the actress gene in her.
“I…” she began.
“This is not a request,” the general had said coldly. “If you refuse, we may already be dead. I will not force you, but I cannot protect us if this comes out. You know what image is to the Brions.”
Yes, Isolde thought. I also know what honor and a binding are to a Brion. I know you can’t actually bear to be in the same room with me, want me and want to have your revenge on me at the same time.
“I understand,” she’d finally said.
Funny thing was, she did. If she wanted to live to see another day, Diego Grothan was the only thing standing between her and certain death. Even with him, it seemed their enemies were many. Would she cost the general his long-lasting title? His life?
Bathed in green, Isolde waited. The dress fit her form, bringing attention to the curves she’d always been self-conscious about, only with Diego… with the general she felt appreciated for them. It was a guilty pleasure, but she longed to enjoy that, properly, truly enjoy the passion he had for her. She wondered how long it would last. Denying a gerion was an insult so great that it was… unheard of, to be honest. Isolde didn’t think even the fated bond between them was strong enough to make him forgive her for that.
When he entered to escort her to the meeting, he looked as breath-taking as ever. Isolde’s heart pounded as unmistakable lust flared in the general’s eyes, his gaze taking in every inch of her body before he could regain his composure. His eyes looked all the colder for that, she noticed.
“Good,” he said simply. “You look like a gesha.”
She wondered how much it cost him to get that praise over his lips. With all the anger she felt towards him, she didn’t say anything in return, not wanting to ruin his sentiment.
“We will meet our allies and discuss our options,” he explained. “The meeting is as private as it can be, the inner circle alone, but our agreement still stays between us, do you understand?”
Isolde nodded, but couldn’t stop herself from adding, “Faren will know. He… he just sees through me.”
There, in the midst of all the war and darkness and pain, the briefest flash of light as the general’s lips twitched to a familiar, painful, much missed smirk for just a moment. Isolde started to smile in return when it was gone as quickly as it’d appeared.
“Faren always knows, yes,” he said, ice itself again, “but that is no excuse to be unguarded. I have made myself busy for the last couple of days so as not to arouse suspicion about why I’m not with you, but we will have to sell it now.”
Sell the fated bond. Sell our uncontrollable lust and – well – love for each other. Keep Diego’s image. Keep ourselves alive.
Isolde nodded, steeling herself and taking his arm. It felt strong and sure under her grip, firm as he led her through the door. It feels so good. It feels like this is how it’s supposed to be. Only it can never be.
Then she put on her best smile and became the blushing alien bride.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Isolde
The smile froze on Isolde’s lips when they made it through the corridors and arrived in a more traditional council room – at least for her – and the doors slid shut behind them. A semi-circle of low couches surrounded a central, sunken platform. It was like walking into a small empty pool.
Diego squeezed her hand reassuringly, but Isolde took it as a sign to pay attention and look happy. Easier said than done. The walk from her room had been painful. It would have been fine if she’d truly loved him and he her. Wonderful, even. It would even have been fine if she’d hated him and he her. Isolde could have put on a brave face then and focused solely on her survival with no conflicting emotions.#p#分页标题#e#
Instead, it had been like walking in a dream from which you didn’t want to but had to wake up. Diego’s arm around her had felt amazing, his body strong and comforting against hers, making her feel safe and cared for in a way she couldn’t entirely explain. The other Brions had been hiding their smiles when they walked past, so Isolde guessed they were selling it, after all.
When she dared sneak a glance at him, she found the general looking at her, barely noticing his adoring warriors, the now-agonizing smirk on his lips. Him showing that kind of affection in public was a sure sign of a man who had just found his one true mate. Her heart had pounded as his smirk forced a coy smile to her own lips, unbidden but all the more real.
Like a curtain falling, when they’d passed through an empty corridor, all the warmth had left Diego, his supportive hold of her suddenly stiff and forced. Isolde’d shivered in his arms. The look he’d given her had been disapproving.
“You do not have to worry,” he’d said. “I swore not to hurt you.”
I know. But you do.
For the sake of all their allies, the people who were supposed to side with them, she made herself smile. It was so tempting to give in to the feelings she truly did have, the cursed desire coursing through her veins and making her seek any contact with Diego, however small. Only the looks he gave her when they were alone had proved too painful to bear for her to give in to that. Before, Diego Grothan’s endearments had been reserved for her and her alone; now, it was the reverse.
Her general held out his hand to help her down the steps, an aid she didn’t need, but the show had to go on, and she couldn’t stop herself from taking that smallest of touches if nothing else. Diego’s hand lingered, holding on to hers for a second more than was absolutely necessary. She didn’t have to fake her shiver at that. No doubt all the Brions in the room with their sharpened senses noticed.
Sell it.
Isolde let her fingers brush against the back of his hand, seeing Deliya fight down a pleased grin out of the corner of her eye and bringing a smile to the lips of a Brion woman sitting on one of the couches. She could feel the shiver run through the general, and it tore her heart apart to see him give her another smirk. Then he put his general face back on.
“May I introduce you to my gesha, Isolde,” he said, turning to the others.
In Brionese, her name sounded like his. Deliya had explained to her it didn’t mean he owned her – gerions were in no way the more important parts of the bind – but simply that they were one. Isolde hoped to the gods she didn’t give anything away with her fake smile.
“Isolde,” the general said then, and his voice was unmistakably filled with love. Isolde’s eyes went wide. Her name sounded like a song on his lips, a prayer, a hymn. She smiled.
I can do that. I’m not a Brion general, smiling is okay for me.
“These are our allies,” Diego said. Isolde bowed her head as she’d been instructed. “You know my brother general Faren already, and this is Atren, the new general and commander of the Fearless.”
The Brion warlords wore the same armor as Diego, only the golden etching twisted and turned in different patterns, surely telling the story of some victory of theirs. Both stood with their arms crossed, refusing to sit as was the Brion custom.
When Faren met her eyes just briefly, his cold gaze seemed to strip her naked to her soul in an instant. His head inclined just slightly, then he turned back to Diego.
He knows. How does he always know?