Revik listened to all of them, but he hadn’t listened to his own heart, or to mine.
He left me there.
He’d fucking left me there with Jaden, and gone back to London.
Revik must have heard at least some of my thoughts, but he didn’t speak. He didn’t move away, but continued to rub my back, the fingers of his other hand caressing my hair away from my neck, massaging the base of my neck.
I still didn’t turn around.
I didn’t move as his fingers continued to work gently over muscles and skin, infusing light into every opening I gave him.
I only stared into the light peeking through the crack under the bathroom door, and fought not to scream.
“GET UP,” A voice said, gruff.
I didn’t move at first. I didn’t even open my eyes.
An arm wrapped around my waist, pulling me up off the mattress, shaking me roughly out of unconsciousness. I let out a gasp when my eyes opened, only to be blinded by the overhead lights, which some sadist had already switched on.
I had a pretty good idea who that sadist was.
I wasn’t at the point of caring about that yet, though.
I was still at the point where I just wanted to burrow back under the covers. My light and body shrieked that it was early.
It was too fucking early for me to get up.
I felt the wine in my system, the lack of sleep, the puffiness of my eyes, separation pain from my piece of shit husband trying to fuck me in our dreams––
“I don’t care,” he said, his voice gruffer than before. “Get your ass up, Alyson. Now. Or I’ll carry you there.”
That time I turned, rolling halfway to my side.
Squinting up at the light, I stared at him, one hand halfway shielding my eyes.
Looking up at Revik’s face, seeing him freshly showered, his wet hair tied back in a half-ponytail, I scowled. The hairstyle, which I couldn’t remember seeing on him before, somehow elongated his high cheekbones and angular face even more, making his pale eyes stand out.
Although the style wasn’t dissimilar to what Wreg wore on occasion, along with some of the other ex-Rebels, it looked different on him, and unfortunately, not in a bad way.
I think it annoyed me more that he looked good, given everything from the night before.
He grunted, but I didn’t hear much amusement in it.
“Come on wife. It’s not an empty threat. I will carry you.”
When I rolled over to get away from him, he smacked me on the ass.
Hard.
“Get up!” he thundered.
Still scowling, I rolled over, glaring at him as I rubbed the sore spot on my butt. Seeing the immovable look on his face, I exhaled in real irritation, even as it occurred to me that I was already awake. Throwing back the covers angrily, I got out of bed, stark naked, and stood in front of him.
“What?” I snapped. “What dire emergency am I reacting to now?”
“Put on clothes,” he said. “Stuff you can move in.”
“Can I take a shower first, your Illustrious Highness?”
“No.” He gave me a wry smile, bowing slightly. “…Esteemed Bridge. You cannot.”
When I started to push past him for the bathroom anyway, he stepped into my path, blocking my way. I stared up at him in fury, but he didn’t move.
“If you need the toilet, go,” he said. “If the shower turns on, I’m dragging you out of there. I mean it. You don’t need a shower where we’re going.”
Pausing, he looked at me a second longer.
When I didn’t move, he stepped out of my path, walking to the military-style duffel filled with my clothes that had been on the floor since I’d half-assedly moved in with him.
As if hearing that, he grunted again, even as he began rummaging through the bag, picking out articles he wanted.
“We’re unpacking this today, too,” he said, his voice gruff once more. “You’re not ‘staying with me,’ Allie. This isn’t my room. It’s our fucking room. It’s our fucking bed. And you’re moving into both, officially. As of today.”
“Am I?” I retorted. “Or maybe I’ll go find a room in this rust-bucket where I don’t have to get woken up at four in the morning by a psychopath.”
Straightening, he walked over to me with an armful of clothes, thrusting them at me until I took them. He didn’t move away right off, but loomed over me, cocking an eyebrow down at where I held the clothes.
After a pause where I only scowled back at him, he hardened his voice.
“Get dressed, wife. Or I’ll dress you myself, too.”
“I’d love to see you try––” I began angrily.
“Would you?” he retorted. “Maybe feel around your neck before you start throwing threats around, lover. I decided to even the playing field for this little exercise.”
Staring up at him, I realized suddenly that my neck felt strange.
I’d barely noticed, what with being half-awake, and being blind in my lower structures anyway from the pregnancy. I didn’t notice changes in my light as much in general right now, which meant I often missed things about my body, too, unless I happened to be using the higher structures in my aleimi, or reaching for Revik himself, which I’d been too annoyed to do since he’d shaken me awake like I was a child late for school.
Dumping the clothes he’d thrown at me on the unmade bed, I reached for my neck, stopping when my fingers met the strangely cold but vibrating metal of an organic collar.
Gripping it in my fingers, I glared up at him, angry for real.
“You collared me?” I gritted my teeth. “While I was asleep?”
“Yes.”
“Why? Why, goddamn it?”
“Because I don’t have a death wish, wife,” he grunted.
Walking back to my khaki duffel, he bent his knees, lowering his weight in a graceful crouch. Without looking back at me, he opened a lower drawer in his built-in dresser, which he must have either emptied or never filled. Dragging my duffel closer, he started transferring my clothes from the bag to the empty drawer, without so much as glancing at me for permission.
“…I’m not letting you stuff all this bullshit until you snap,” he growled. “Like you did when your parents first showed up. Or like you did with Cass and Balidor the other day. Or on the ship to Alaska, when your human mother died. Or when you took off for Beijing after I was being a prick in the tank.”
Slamming the drawer shut and opening the second one, he turned, glaring at me.
“We’re going to the ring. Now. And we’re going to stay in the goddamned ring until you let it out. All of it, Alyson.”
I watched in disbelief as he finished unpacking my duffel bag.
Rising gracefully to his feet, he kicked the second drawer shut on my clothes. Then he was staring at me, his light eyes holding real anger.
“So unless you want to fight like that,” he retorted, motioning gracefully down my naked body. “I’d get dressed if I were you, Alyson. As much as I might appreciate it, chances are, we won’t be alone down there.”
Following his gesture with my eyes, I clenched my jaw.
After a few seconds more of thinking, I turned, snatching the sports bra off the top of the pile of clothes on the bed. Throwing it on over my head, I yanked it down past my shoulders and over my breasts, arranging the material around me. Without waiting, I snatched up the cropped T-shirt he’d grabbed next, throwing that on over the bra.
Neither of us spoke while I dressed.
By the end of it, I was pretty ready to hit him, though.
“Good,” he muttered.
“You collared me,” I said, glaring at him from where I sat on the bed, pulling a sock over my foot under the stretchy combat pants he’d given me. “You fucking collared me. I seem to remember you threatening my life when I did that to you.”
He only frowned for a moment, staring at me.
I didn’t see an ounce of remorse on his face, or in his eyes.
; Instead, he just motioned at me with a hand, telling me to get up after I finished shoving my foot in the second of two martial arts shoes. When I got close enough to him, he took me by the arm, leading me to the door, which he bent to open.
I’d given up on him answering me by then.
Right as we were leaving the room, he did answer me, though.
“I don’t want you holding anything back,” is all he said.
19
MARRIAGE THERAPY
“WHAT THE HELL is going on?” Jon muttered, hearing a rippling shout and laughter ahead as he finished descending the stairs down to the main hold.
He hadn’t exactly been aiming the question at Wreg, not specifically, but Wreg glanced at him anyway, giving him a grim look and a frown.
They’d been told Allie and Revik were down here.
It struck Jon as strange, given that they were about to land in Istanbul, but he figured the two Elaerian were just burning off some steam before the teams all went live again.
Knowing Allie, she was probably stressed about the multiple deployments. They tended to lose more people when they deployed smaller teams on the ground, compared to when the team was all deployed together. It also caused prioritization and logistical nightmares with infiltration and the comp-team, given that they tended to provide support centrally.
Another shout went up right as Jon reached the bottom of the metal staircase.
He entered the floor of the main hold––or half of it anyway, since they’d segmented off the other half for Barrier containment tanks and the main security station.
Despite the high ceilings down here, which stretched up a full five decks, with catwalks all around, the room felt humid with sweat. The air hung stagnant around him from all the bodies gathered around a square arena elevated off the main floor.
There were so many bodies, it took Jon a moment to even make out the elevated boxing ring. The ring itself was a remnant from the last occupants of the carrier. The Chinese crew must have built the platform themselves, roping it off with padded ropes and painting it white.
Jon had seen that ring get hard use since they’d taken over the ship, but he’d never seen this many people down here, not all at one time.
Then, glancing up, he got a good look at the two figures circling one another in the ring.
“Jesus.” Jon frowned, still following the two figures with his eyes. “They look like they’re fighting for real. Not point sparring. Full contact.”
He glanced at Wreg. Seeing Wreg’s eyes glued to the circling figures, Jon followed his gaze back up to the elevated ring. Noting the bruises each of them wore, the trickle of blood running down one side of Revik’s face from under his hairline, Jon let his frown turn into a scowl.
It looked like she’d dropped him at least once.
“No.” Wreg shook his head. “I think she got him with a kick. See his jaw? The bruise starts there. She probably cut him with her shoe.”
“What the hell is she wearing a collar for?” Jon snapped.
Wreg shrugged, but not in a way that said he didn’t know.
More like he thought the reasons were obvious.
Seeing Allie’s face, Jon found himself thinking he understood what Wreg meant.
Allie spun around, even as he thought it, catching Revik off-guard and back-fisting him in the face. He reeled from the blow, then countered, kicking her in the solar plexus to push her back. It struck Jon, watching them, that Revik was fighting more carefully than Allie was.
When she feinted then moved closer to him a second time, he avoided hitting her in the stomach, but instead kicked her thigh, hard enough that it nearly folded under her.
She glared at him, circling around on his other side.
“What’s he doing?” Jon muttered. “He had a real opening there.”
Wreg gave him an incredulous look. “You think Nenzi is going to kick his pregnant wife in the abdomen right now, little brother? Really?”
Jon blinked.
Then, as Wreg’s words penetrated, he felt his face warm.
He’d forgotten she was pregnant. Of course.
“It’s not exactly a fair fight then, is it?” he muttered, folding his arms.
“In more ways than one, little brother.” Wreg smiled wanly, wrapping an arm around Jon’s waist as he nudged his light back towards the sight-restraint collar. “She’s blind, remember. Even without the collar, Nenz says she’s almost all the way blind in her lower structures now. He can’t go all-out on her, for that reason alone. I suspect that isn’t the point of this, anyway.”
Jon frowned, giving him a look.
“Then what is?” he said, pointed. “You think Revik’s letting her beat him up?”
“Letting her?” Wreg made a noncommittal gesture with one hand. “I don’t know how much ‘letting’ he’s doing. Your sister’s a damned good fighter, Jon… even blind. If he drops his guard too much, she’s going to put him in the infirmary.”
Shrugging again, he added,
“…That being said, I would guess he’s encouraging her to try.”
Still frowning, Jon stepped deeper into the room, and Wreg followed.
He walked all the way forward, making openings by pushing his way through by the end. A few scowled as they turned, then saw who it was and made space for the two of them. In the end, Jon stood directly under the ring, where he could see both of them panting, circling one another.
Given that both of them were soaking wet, including Allie’s gray cropped shirt and Revik’s hair, they must have been going at this for a while.
Their facial expressions were vastly different, though.
Allie’s expression held a barely restrained fury.
She watched Revik’s every move, that cold anger shining from her eyes, her jaw clenched hard enough to push out her cheek. Something in that expression struck Jon as borderline savage––overtly aggressive, at the very least.
She moved differently than he remembered her moving, too, mirroring Revik’s cat-like steps as she paced in front of him like a feral animal.
Revik, on the other hand, looked wary.
His clear eyes focused on his wife’s with an overt scrutiny.
Jon sensed him assessing her face, her body, her light––even though his pale eyes remained primarily on the first of those. Knowing Revik, he had a chunk of his attention monitoring her hands and feet in his periphery as well, so he didn’t get hit out of nowhere.
It took Jon a few more seconds to realize they were talking to one another in the space.
He saw Allie’s eyes blur faintly, right before her scowl deepened.
Revik took a step back, his frown growing even more wary.
“Well?” he said, aloud. “What are you waiting for, then?”
She looked about to answer, when her eyes flickered suddenly to Jon, and stopped.
At first, Jon couldn’t be sure she actually saw him.
Then her irises clicked back into focus. Her scowl deepened.
She turned back to Revik.
“Did you tell Jon?” she snapped. “Does he know you erased him? Twice?”
Jon tensed. He glanced at Wreg who frowned, holding up his hands to indicate he had no idea what they were talking about.
Jon scowled, looking back up at the ring.
“Did you tell him you left me with Jaden… twice?” she said, louder, still trying to get a reaction out of Revik. “Did you tell him how you just fucking left me there, because you were too much of a chickenshit to stand up to the Council?”
Frowning, Revik followed her gaze in a darting glance, looking slightly over his shoulder to see Jon and Wreg standing there.
He did it quick, barely turning his head, but before he’d turned back, she’d already moved. Revik sidestepped her, avoiding a swinging, choy li fut style arm and fist hit Jon couldn’t remember teaching her.
Still trying to evade her when she followed with an uppercut, Revik twisted around behind her, kicking her hard
in the thigh a second time.
Allie winced visibly that time.
Her knee buckled, but she barely paused before she straightened.
“You aren’t even trying,” she accused him. “What the fuck are we doing here, Revik? If you’re not even going to really fight me, I’m out of here. I’ll go eat breakfast…” Her jaw hardened. “…Or find someone else to entertain me. Someone who doesn’t say ‘no’ to me constantly, just so he can try to fuck me while I sleep.”
A ripple of reaction went through the watching crowd, embarrassment, but a kind of delighted glee too.
Jon frowned, glancing at Wreg.
Wreg returned his look, quirking an eyebrow, but not in amusement.
Revik looked even less amused.
“You want to keep playing this game, wife?” he said, cold. “You want to make both of us a public spectacle? Try to embarrass me? Threaten me?”
“Why the fuck not?” she snapped. “Nothing else is working––”
“Maybe we should bring Jaden in here?” Revik shot back. “Ask him what he remembers? You think that would help, love? Seeing your old flame?”
There was a silence.
Then her lips twisted in a humorless smile, her eyes cold as ice.
“You’d love that, wouldn’t you. You’d love to bring him in here, get to play self-righteous about what a prick you always said he was.”
Jon felt a reaction from someone near him, and turned.
Seeing Dante’s face among the sea of other faces, he grimaced.
Vikram wasn’t going to like that. Neither was Gina, her mother.
Thank god, he didn’t see Jaden in here, and he didn’t feel his light.
Revik moved around Allie as she approached, his steps cautious. He looked angry now though, and it didn’t feel like posturing. Anger bled off his light, along with a deeper frustration, what might have been a sense of powerlessness.
His jaw tightened, right before his voice lowered to a growl.
“You’re a coward,” he said, motioning at Allie in seer with one hand. “We could have gotten breakfast an hour ago, wife, but you’re too much of a fucking coward to stop tossing these bullshit, passive-aggressive jabs at me instead of actually feeling how you feel. Is it that fucking hard to be honest to me? To yourself? Because I could do this all day, love.”
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