She couldn’t form any words. She heard a faint sound and looked up. A red-tinged sun hung overhead, and a second later, a ship appeared.
She sucked in a breath, her lips tilting upward. It had a sleek, central body, with two arched wings. The wings had large circles cut out of them and blue energy crackled in the space. She turned her head, trying to take everything in. A wide, main bridge led up to what she guessed was the palace. A man was walking across it. Several people were with him, some jogging to keep up with his long strides.
He seemed familiar.
Mal’s heart skipped a beat or two. One thing was for sure, he was a female fantasy come to life.
He walked like a man in charge. Muscle corded his powerful body. She recognized a fighter—built for strength. He wore black, fitted pants tucked into boots. A fitted black shirt edged with red molded across his broad form. Someone said something to him, and he turned his head.
Wow.
He was close enough that she could take in the strong jaw, sharp blade of his nose, and just enough ruggedness to pique her interest. She’d never been one for pretty boys.
His dark hair was a little long, giving him a masculine, sexy appeal. He was designed to make a female sit up and take notice.
She couldn’t see his eyes from here, but she knew that they’d be silver.
It was the man from the crash. She remembered him. She remembered silver eyes brimming with power.
She felt that power throb off him. Even across the distance between them.
He was a man used to being in charge, every order obeyed, who wouldn’t be polite or civilized.
The hairs on her arms rose. She felt a strange mix of desire and fear.
“Who’s that?” she asked.
“That’s the overlord.”
Crap. Of course, it was.
Suddenly, the man lifted his head.
His gaze hit hers, ensnared. She couldn’t look away from the twisting silver. She felt his power swell around him.
Tavith cleared his throat. “I believe he’s on his way to interrogate you.”
Yep, she just couldn’t catch a break.
Chapter Four
“Overlord, the nobles are in an uproar over the attacks by the Zhylaw.”
Rhain couldn’t drag his gaze off the woman standing on the medica ward balcony to look at his advisor.
She stared back, confident, defiant. Was she his father’s creature? An assassin or a spy?
He shoved those thoughts away. He’d get his answers soon.
“Jaro, the Houses are always in an uproar over something.” They strode off the bridge and through the main doorway into the coolness of the atrium. A soaring, glass-dome ceiling flared overhead. There was a tree in the center, in full bloom.
Nine houses made up the inner circle on Zhalto, and while wealth and holdings counted for a lot, the ability to wield energy was paramount.
The dukes and duchesses and counts and countesses of the powerful Houses all commanded a great deal of ability. Most of Rhain’s elite fighters came from the Houses.
“Will you make time to meet with them?” Jaro asked.
Rhain hid his wince. “Yes. If something doesn’t come up.”
On his other side, Thadd snorted.
The tall, lean Jaro shot the captain a look. “I am well aware the overlord will have a pressing emergency to attend to when the meeting is due to commence.”
Rhain kept his face blank. He had a planet to protect, and listening to the nobles argue and complain, didn’t help him do that.
Jaro released a breath, pushing his long, brown hair back. “The long-range scouts are back with new intel on the Zhylaw.”
Now Rhain straightened. He’d been waiting to hear from the scouts. “Good, Jaro. Tell me.”
“They’ve tracked the invaders to the heart of the Barrens,” Jaro said. “They definitely have a base there, although we aren’t sure where exactly.”
Of course, they did. The Barrens were rocky, dangerous, and filled with deadly creatures twisted by the radiation of the Radiance. It was the perfect hiding place.
“The scouts were also able to identify the Zhylaw leader in charge.” Jaro paused.
Rhain swiveled. Finally. If he knew who was leading his father’s attacks, Rhain could better plan his own counterattacks. “Who?”
The normally efficient Jaro fidgeted.
“Jaro?” Rhain growled.
“It’s Krastin, my lord.”
Rhain’s world stopped. Krastin.
He looked at his boots, fighting back the rage and pain. Thadd gripped his arm and squeezed.
Krastin was a ruthless, vicious murderer who’d killed Rhain’s mother over a decade ago.
He dragged in a breath. Years ago, Zavir had ordered her assassination, and Krastin had been an up-and-coming killer, out to make a name for himself.
“I need to inform my brothers.”
“Several Sarkan advisors were also spotted with the Zhylaw warlord,” Jaro continued. “They are some of your father’s inner circle.”
“Call him Zavir.” Rhain preferred not to think of the man as his father.
His advisor bowed his head. “Of course, Overlord.”
“Thank you, Jaro.”
With a nod, the man hurried off.
Thadd eyed Rhain’s face.
Rhain sighed. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to lose it and charge after Krastin without any thought or planning.” But he did want to smash Krastin’s face to meat.
“Tavith sent reluctant word that the woman is awake and ready for questioning,” Thadd said.
Rhain wanted answers more than ever, but gritted his teeth. “She’ll wait. I need to contact my brothers.”
His captain nodded.
The two of them strode toward the communication room. People hurried out of Rhain’s way. Usually, he took time to talk with his people, but he didn’t have it in him today.
He entered the communication chamber and stood in the center of the empty space. There was no furniture, just pretty mosaic stone walls and a gently curved floor. All designed with the optimum flow of energy in mind.
He calmed his mind as much as he could and pulled the energy to him.
Blue lights flared around the edge of the chamber, then projected upward in front of him.
“Are you all right?” Thadd asked.
“Is that a polite way of saying I’m being a gorr?”
Thadd crossed his arms over his chest. “You seem on edge.”
“I want to kill Krastin.” Rhain’s voice was a lethal blade.
“I know.”
“And you know I met with some of the families of the dead from the Renkitis Outpost earlier.”
“I know.”
Yes, Thadd had stood guard, as he always did. He’d seen the grief-stricken relatives.
“I can handle the tears and grief.” A king had to. It was part of his duty. “But it was the families with no bodies to burn under the auroras that got to me.”
It was a time-honored tradition to burn the dead under the glow of the auroras and set their energy free, back to the flow.
“The gorr-cursed Zhylaw,” Thadd bit out.
Yes, they’d seen the blood at the outpost. Zhaltons were dead, but the Zhylaw had taken their bodies to do who knew what with them. They would likely turn them into undead monstrosities.
The light projection changed.
A strong face with a hard jaw and rugged lines appeared. The man was slightly in profile and his long, silver-white hair was tied at the base of his neck.
“Rhain,” the man’s deep voice rumbled through the room.