She must have recently passed her evaluation. How had the Drakes sneaked her off planet? Had they overruled the Drolgok registrars?
Once they delivered us, the Taziers would take her. Even if she rejected them—they would force her. These Drakes had no honor.
The rage that surged through me only amped me to aching status.
“Focus, Zyair,” Rhodes hissed.
I glanced toward him, and immediately saw that he was not as frozen as one might assume. As his dark gaze bore into me, and I recognized the desperation within it, I made the effort to put my focus where it would ensure we would all have a future.
Shaftz, if I had anything to say about it, she was going to be part of it.
While the Drolgok began to work on Xandros’s manacles, the little female placed her stepladder down in front of me, climbed up it, and raised a small cutter.
Our eyes almost met as hers were now level with mine. But they skittered away…
“I will not trance you,” I stated in English, unsure if the words made sense.
“Is that the truth or a ruse to get me to look?” She frowned as she applied the small laser.
“It is something over which I control,” I replied.
“You swear not to mesmerize me?” Her gaze flicked to me, and away again.
I wasn’t familiar with that use of ‘swear’, but I got the gist. “I promise.”
Her beautiful eyes locked with mine. I took a deep breath, and instantly regretted it. I therefore sounded terser than I intended, when I said, “My name is Zyair. The rude redheaded joker is my brother, Xandros. The dark-haired grump is Rhodes.”
My voice was at least a full octave lower and hoarser than normal. It would have done Xandros proud.
“Hullo,” she offered. She was definitely having issues ignoring what jutted between us. So was I.
“What is your name?” I pressed.
She had seemed a bit dazed, but now she raised her chin and her eyes hardened, just a bit. “Princess Jazmin.”
“It is a pretty name,” I said.
“Stop the conversation. Get the cursed cuffs off.” Rhodes spoke the English words with his lips peeled back from teeth that were more pointed than they should be.
“I will.” The conviction running through her words made it a promise. She lowered the goggles over her eyes, focused on the manacles suspending me from the overhead bars, and raised the cutter. “Do not look at it.”
I focused on her face instead. The goggles extended out beyond her cheekbones. The effect was rather cute.
Cute? I did not think I had ever used that word in any kind of context.
A moment later, her eyes flicked to mine from within the goggles. “If you value your arms, do not look at me either.”
I lowered my gaze. With her stretching upward, the next logical target were her breasts. She wore a shirt that was not meant to be clingy, but with her level of endowment, it did so. They were lovely, full and round—and begging for me to…
“Not much better,” she said through gritted teeth. “Worse, actually.”
“I—what is the word? Apology.” I ripped my eyes away, to look through the bars of the cage.
“Apologize,” she corrected.
“Apologize,” I agreed.
Something banged hard against the storage bay door, and my adrenaline surged. These vicious Tazierromputshad beaten us for days… but now, we were close to being free.
