Born of Silence

  Her head swam as she thought back to the early days of their relationship. Even though she'd craved him from the moment he'd first saved her, she'd had no idea that he found her even remotely attractive. Kere had started out as a liaison from the Sentella and he'd turned into an ally who helped them fight against Arturo's tyranny.

  Yes, he'd spent a lot of time with her, but she'd foolishly assumed it was for Resistance or Sentella business.

  Until they'd been on the run from Caronese soldiers. To keep from hurting the soldiers, they'd hidden in a tight closet where there had been no room for them to even breathe. As she was forced to press tight to his body, she'd felt him swelling against her hip.

  Neither had moved for countless minutes, but she could tell by his rigidness how much he desired her.

  When the coast was clear, she'd swallowed hard, unsure of what to do.

  "Sorry," he'd whispered to her. "I--um... I hope I didn't offend you."

  It was the first uncertainty she'd ever heard in his voice. "You didn't offend me, Kere. I feel the same way about you."

  Without a word, he'd opened the door and checked to make sure it was safe to leave.

  They had made their way out of the closet and back to the hangar bay where his fighter had been docked. After they launched and once they were sure no one was trailing them, she'd turned around in her seat to face him.

  With a boldness she'd never had before with any man, she'd reached down to undo his pants.

  "Zarya--"

  "Sh," she'd breathed, cutting off his protest. "I don't expect anything from you, Kere. I more than understand why you can't let anyone know who you are--that you have to stay in the shadows. I accept and respect that. But after everything you've done for me and the Resistance, I just want to give something back to you. I really do want to do this for you."

  She'd waited for him to protest again.

  When he didn't, she'd opened his pants and stroked him until her fingertips were wet from his desire. There in the darkness of space, he'd cupped her face with his gloved hand.

  Already in love with him, she'd leaned down and taken him into her mouth to taste him for the first time. She could still hear his heavy breathing as he'd leaned back in the seat and let her lick and suck on him to her heart's content.

  Hear his expelled breath when he'd climaxed a few minutes later.

  It stunned her to find out now that he'd never been with any woman except her.

  She rested her chin on his chest to stare into his incredibly blue eyes. "Given how skilled you've always been in bed, I would have never guessed that I was your first."

  "That's because I spend a lot of time thinking about what I want to do to you."

  She smiled as she remembered all the little things he'd done over the years that had made him such an important, vital part of her life. "Thank you, by the way."

  "For what?" he asked with a scowl.

  "I assume you're the reason my sister called me earlier."

  He stroked her hair tenderly. "I figured you'd want to talk to her. I know how close you two are and I'm sorry I didn't get you in touch with her sooner."

  She should probably hold that against him, but for some reason she didn't. "I also assume you're... whatever that group is that's sponsoring her scholarship?"

  "DIG."

  "Yes, that was it."

  He shook his head. "It's actually the company owned by Syn and his wife. They do all kinds of charitable deeds under it."

  Now she was confused. "So are they the ones funding her?"

  "No, they just loaned their company name to me so that I could do it without her knowing."

  She would never fully understand him. But then he'd always been a contradiction. "Why did you do that?"

  "I was afraid if she knew a Cruel or the Sentella was financing her degree, she'd refuse to take the money."

  Sorche would have. Zarya had raised her better than to take charity from anyone. "I still don't understand why you would do something so kind for her when you hate me."

  He shrugged. "No one should work that hard and not be able to go because of something as trivial as money. I know how much it meant to her and I wanted her to have it. She deserves it after all she's done to get in."

  "You've made her very happy. Thank you." Zarya laid her head on his thigh as she watched him. He was such a contradiction. He hated her, but he protected her. He'd sold her, and yet paid for her sister to have her dream.

  Nothing about him made sense.

  He could be so frustrating.

  But as they lay in the silence, one thing became clear to her. He wasn't his uncle. She'd spent her entire life trying to bring down his family, but the real villain was dead.

  Darling would be as good for their empire as his father had been.

  Better if the truth was known.

  As Maris had said, above all, Darling was always fair. He hadn't punished Sorche for Zarya's actions. He hadn't even lashed out at Zarya herself. Not really.

  And as a member of the Sentella, he'd been a hero for the working class even though he'd been born to one of the oldest and richest families in existence.

  But how could she convince people like Senna and Clarion that he was a different man? Most people hated without cause. Without reason. It was irrational jealousy, and if she knew anything about people like that, it was that they couldn't be reasoned with.

  Their hatred was blind, and all consuming.

  Even if Darling did something good, they would twist it to make it seem evil or wrong or self-serving.

  Words wouldn't convince them. Only actions would. And she'd have to move fast to keep the Resistance from building up again and coming after him, night and day. Since she wasn't there to lead it, she didn't know who was left. But someone would come forward. They always did. And Senna had told her that she was documenting Darling's "crimes." Which meant the Resistance was still there. Still plotting the downfall of the House of Cruel.

  Fear for Darling consumed her. How could she protect him from his own people?

  And that irony wasn't lost on her. Here she was, the former leader of the Resistance that had done its best to destroy the Cruel line and all its members, and all she wanted to do was ensure his safety. That he had a long reign.

  Her father was most likely rolling in his grave.

  But as she traced Darling's scars, she made a silent vow. No one would ever again hurt him on her watch. Even if he never loved her again, she would die to protect him.

  And as that thought finished, a bad feeling came over her. It was just like the one she'd gotten right before her father had died. The one she'd had that last night she'd spent with Kere.

  Something evil was coming for them, and it was going to be out for their blood.

  11

  Four days later

  Her thoughts drifting, Zarya idly brushed her hand through the tangles of Darling's auburn hair. Not long after daybreak, he'd finally fallen asleep with his body between her legs and his head on her stomach. She was exhausted too, but she'd promised him that she wouldn't sleep while he did.

  He was so paranoid about attacks...

  Not that she blamed him given his family and personal history--what she'd learned from Maris during a small break yesterday was that Arturo would often have someone storm into Darling's room at odd hours of the night or early morning to make sure he was alone in his bed. Sometimes they'd allow him to go back to sleep, and others...

  They'd cuff his hands behind his back and drag him out of his room for his uncle to beat while in the throes of a drunken rage. Arturo had taken issue with not only Darling's confessed homosexuality, but also because he looked, moved, and sounded like his father, whom Arturo had always hated. And then there was the small matter that both Darling and his younger brother were a constant reminder that Drux had been able to father sons while Arturo had only daughters.

  Something Arturo took out on those daughters as well as his wife--as if it were somehow their fault a
nd not his.

  To protect them, Darling had done his best to keep his uncle's anger directed at him as much as possible. He'd go out of his way to provoke his uncle so that his cousins would be left alone. And true to his nature Darling had considered it a moral imperative to make the man spin out of control as often as possible. He'd admitted to her that he'd been hoping to cause Arturo to have a stroke from the stress of dealing with him.

  Only Darling would think of that...

  But his incendiary actions had kept Arturo in a perpetual state of fury where Darling was concerned. And Arturo had made it his life's ambition to take everything out on the nephew who didn't dare physically retaliate for fear of what would happen to his family if he did.

  Because of that, Darling didn't like to sleep at all. And it was why he'd been wearing explosives on her arrival. Before Maris had brought her here, Darling had walked the palace halls, wrapped in them, refusing to rest until utter exhaustion forced him to it. Since his own guards had been the ones who'd thrown him to his uncle, and had done their own share of abuse to him over the years, he didn't trust them to protect him now that he was governor.

  It disgusted her whenever she thought about it, and the one thing she truly didn't understand was why Darling had ever fought for the Resistance. Yes, his uncle was a bastard who needed to be put down, but Darling had been attacked even more viciously by the working class such as his guards who resented his royal blood, and who enjoyed having power over an aristo. She really couldn't understand why he'd want to help them. If any aristo had ever possessed a reason to absolutely hate the pleb class, it was Darling.

  Yet he didn't.

  "Some people need a reason to hate in order to live. It's easy to despise someone you think has it better than you. Or who has more than you, especially when you think they don't deserve it and you do. But at the end of the day, life sucks for us all. You do what you have to to get through it.

  "Personally, I'd rather they hate me for who I am, rather than for the lies spewed by others. But either way, I can't change their opinions. And I refuse to be like them and to hate them for something they can't help any more than I can help being born a prince.

  "The hatred has to stop somewhere. I'm not going to let resentment for someone else, especially someone I don't know who has never harmed me, ruin what little time I have in this existence. I'd much rather focus on trying to be happy, than looking for a reason to be miserable."

  Darling's words haunted her. He really did have a beautiful soul even as battered as it was.

  But he couldn't change the world alone and she knew it as well as he did. Still, it didn't stop him from trying, and that was what made him so special.

  While he would risk his own life to save a complete stranger, Darling trusted very few.

  Yet even with their less than perfect past, he trusted her to watch over him while he slept. Something Maris had assured her was nothing short of a miracle.

  That being said, she was positively starving this morning. She'd call for food, but since she didn't want to disturb Darling while he slept so soundly, here she lay, her stomach grumbling so loud, she was surprised it didn't wake him.

  It was okay though. She really didn't mind. Hunger had been a part of her life for as long as she could remember. It was why she forgot to eat and why Darling nagged her about it. There wasn't a lot of money to be made as a Resistance fighter and since her father had been an outlaw, he'd been relegated to menial jobs that didn't require a background check or any form of government reporting. Unfortunately, those jobs didn't pay enough for a family of five.

  Anytime they'd start to piece together savings, either someone got terribly sick or they died and wiped out whatever they'd managed to put away, and then some.

  And since she'd been forced to leave school before graduation, she'd been relegated to the same kinds of jobs as her father. It was why she'd been so adamant that Sorche stay in school and finish. She didn't want her baby sister living a life this hard.

  At times, she was bitter about it. Before Arturo had turned on her father, they'd been extremely wealthy. And it was why she'd wanted Arturo's head so badly. Vengeance was an ugly thing and she'd wanted to ram her family crest down the bastard's throat.

  Now that he was gone, she didn't know what would become of her. While Darling had been kind over the last few days, she hated being dependent on him. It wasn't in her nature to rely on anyone for anything. And Darling had already thrown her away twice. What would keep him from selling her off the next time she did something that displeased him?

  Yeah, that stuck in her craw. No longer his fiancee, no longer the leader of the Resistance, she wasn't sure what her current role was.

  Part of her still wanted to run away and start over. But her heart wouldn't let her leave Darling while he was like this. Other than Maris, he had no one in this world who seemed to care about him. No one to watch his back.

  No one to hold him while he slept, and unless he was wrapped around her or on her like now, he woke up all throughout the night in a panic and cold sweat, his eyes feral and his breathing ragged as he looked around for an attacker. But as soon as he saw her in his bed, he'd calm down and relax again. So how could she abandon him to his pain?

  He never told her what those dreams were about. He didn't need to. In his sleep, he mumbled the names of those who'd hurt him the worst. Arturo's was the most common. But Ryn, Clarion, Pip, and Timmon were there, too. Along with other names she didn't recognize.

  And if any of them were still alive, she hoped she never met them. If she did, she'd kill them without hesitation. Whatever they'd done to him had been horrific enough to torture him even when they were in a place where they could no longer reach him.

  Her heart aching for the anguish that robbed him of something as simple as peaceful sleep, she played with his hair while his breath and beard tickled her skin.

  His link buzzed on the nightstand. Frowning, she started to ignore it until she saw it was Maris. He never bothered them unless it was something important.

  "Darling?"

  "Mmmm." With his eyes still closed, he nuzzled against her thigh.

  "Maris is calling. You want to take it?"

  He scratched at his ear, then sighed before he seemed to go back to sleep.

  She smiled. "Are you awake, baby?"

  "No," he groused. "I don't want to get up. I like it here."

  Tsking at him, she reached past the computer pad he'd been using to work in bed during the past few days, and leaned over to grab the link. She placed it in his hand and tried not to think about the eyeglasses that she'd almost knocked off the nightstand in the process.

  Yet another injury her men had caused him.

  Their torture had given him spontaneous nystagmus, which caused his eyes to jerk unexpectedly for no reason, leaving him blind until they stopped and focused again. And he was partially blind in his left eye and near-sighted in his right, something that seriously compromised his depth perception and aim.

  In a fight, either condition could prove fatal.

  Together, they were a bonus round of vulnerability for any enemy or assassin to exploit. God help him if anyone ever found out. It was why his doctor had refused to document those conditions.

  But Darling had trusted her with the secret that could kill him.

  She winced as the thought of his ongoing physical pain hit her anew. He would never again be the warrior he once was. While his skills were still better than most, he was now at a massive disadvantage in a fight. And because of the nystagmus and structural damage her men had wrought, he couldn't wear contacts or have surgery to correct his vision.

  He clicked the link on, then placed it against his ear. "Mmmm... Maris? Yeah... no, I'm not awake." He lifted his head to squint at the clock. "What day is it?"

  She laughed at his shocked expression after Maris must have answered.

  "Yeah, okay. I need a quick shower. Give me fifteen minutes, then bring them up." He clicked th
e link off.

  "Who's here?"

  Yawning, he set the link back on the nightstand before he slid his eyeglasses into the drawer where he kept them. "My doctor."

  That news surprised her. She glanced at the makeshift bandage on his left hand from the night before--an injury she was sure needed stitches, but he'd adamantly refused to call a medic. "I thought you hated them."

  "Not all of them." He nudged her thighs farther apart so that he could finger her.

  Zarya sucked her breath in sharply as he found the place and the rhythm that never failed to go straight to the core of her pleasure zone. "What are you doing, sweetie?"

  "Having breakfast."

  She groaned as he started tonguing her. Her body erupted with fire, but she had to stay focused. "What about your shower?"

  He made her crazy with lust as he licked and teased her until she couldn't think straight. "You really want me to stop now?"

  When she didn't answer, he laughed. "Didn't think so."

  Smiling, Maris greeted Syn and Hauk in the palace foyer and excused the butler who seemed more than relieved to flee their fierce presence. Something highly entertaining since, for once, they were dressed like decent citizens and not the infamous outlaws who were wanted dead by most governments.

  Still, their collective ferocity was hard to disguise no matter their wardrobe choices.

  Syn had even gone so far as to not line his black eyes or wear his earrings. Rather he had his long dark hair pulled back into a proper queue and was dressed all in white, which made his tawny complexion a deeper shade of olive.

  Even though Syn had been raised alternately in prison and on the streets, and was the son of one of the most notorious serial killers in history, he held an air of poised refinement that would rival any aristo. An upper-crust demeanor Syn had refined after Nykyrian had helped him get off the streets and financed him through med school.

  A renowned tech thief and trained assassin, that man was truly one of the most intelligent creatures Maris had ever met. And the only clue Syn gave this afternoon to his real lethal nature was the small lump at his hip, underneath his jacket, that betrayed a concealed blaster.

  All of that combined to make Syn one of the most lickably delectable men in the universe.