Page 155 of Trove’s Purpose

She was no different than an animal trapped in a corner, violently and desperately scratching her way to freedom, even in the impossibility of it.

“I think it’s starting to warp.”

Trove’s comment, which was rather encouraging, he thought, earned a wild glare. Rinnicks threw it his way, eye twitching, teeth bared, expression crazed. She clearly did not appreciate his commentary.

“What have you done?!” She demanded to know.

“Me? I’ve been unconscious or strung up this whole time. What could I do?”

“I know this is because of you!” She bared her claws at him.

He shrugged. “I mean, yeah. Probably. But why does that mean I had anything to do with it?”

“That crew of stupid, barbaric, grotesque, urkuts-”

“Now, that’s not nice,” he frowned. “We’ve been nothing but polite to you.”

“Why are you like this?!” She shrieked rushing for him. She grabbed him by the hair, claws digging into his neck. His unconcerned smile just made her shake. “Why are you not afraid?!”

“Why would I be afraid?” He returned easily.

His flippant attitude made her pause. So confused. So afraid. She wasn’t sure what to do. Because his confidence had to be coming from somewhere. Why wasn’t he scared? Why wasn’t he reacting like a prisoner should? What did he know that she didn’t?

But that was Alred’s voice coming from the console. And those explosions were practically a signature at this point.

His crew was here. He had nothing to fear.

He only had to wait.

And he didn’t have to wait long.

The door slid open. The light from behind cast her front in shadow, but he’d recognize that beautiful silhouette from anywhere.

A smile, genuine this time, tugged at his lips. And warmth spread in his chest as he realized, for the first time in his life, he was being saved.

“Hello, adassi,” he purred as Chee walked in.

Donned in an envirosuit, she had taken off her helmet and was holding it in her hands.

Well, technically, she was holding it in her hand. The other hand was inside the helmet. And he recognized immediately that she was holding something.

Rinnicks, however, did not.

“You,” she sneered, her grip on Trove tightening. “This ugly, fat thing is your mate?”

“I’m not fat. I’m big boned,” she said, cocking out her hip. They were indeed big bones, but they were covered in a delightful layer of fat that he loved to watch jiggle. He didn’t know the difference, personally, and he didn’t really care. She was glorious.

And even more so with that hard, icy look on her face as she looked down on Rinnicks.

She looked like a killer.

Chee had never killed anyone before. But that wasn’t really necessary for someone to have the mindset of a killer. There were those that had killed dozens but weren’t killers, and similarly, but more rarely, there were those that had killed no one but who were still killers. Untested ones, to be sure, but the history of killing wasn’t actually what made a killer.

In this moment, looking at Rinnicks, Chee had ruthless, uncaring eyes. The complete lack of concern for the life of another. The coldness. The distance. That was the look of someone who genuinely didn’t care if the person they looked at lived or died. No fiery anger. No passionate righteousness. Sure, those emotions made people murderers, but it was that absolute blankness, total lack of anything behind her eyes, that made a killer.

“You’re so pretty,” Trove sighed dreamily.

“Not now,” she chastised softly.