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Ashrael understood perfectly well. “Find me in the training chamber when you’re done.”
FOUR
Noa walkedinto the room and found the air fragrant with the aroma of delicious spices, fiery peppers, and charcoal-seared meat.
Her mouth started to water.
She’d spent all day cooped up in one of the labs, training with Elgon, an elder Kordolian psychic who'd taken her under his wing.
Although she’d come a long way since she'd discovered she had the Talent—the ability to manipulate that invisible and inexplicable dimensional energy the Kordolians called theka’qui—she was still a novice compared to the likes of Ashrael and Elgon.
If they were the maestros, then she was a student, still trying to learn her scales.
The training was hard. It required discipline and finesse. Fortunately, she had both of those things in spades, but sometimes she wished for an outlet, because after a long, hard day of training, her body was filled to the brim with tension, and she needed release.
There wasoneparticular outlet she could always rely on, but having a piano to dabble with onboardSilencewould be a dream too.
How sweet of him to ask her what she wanted.
How sweet of him to actually consider her birthday; a very human custom.
In their typical non-sentimental, purposeful fashion, Kordolians didn’t celebrate birthdays at all.
She glanced at Ash, who walked silently beside her, his aura quiet and perfectly controlled. That was how he was when there were others around. He became unreadable; impenetrable.
Like glass, but fluid.
She marveled at how seamless his barriers were; at how different he was compared to when he was alone with her.
She saw the others; Abbey sitting on a bench with Ami in her lap. Arin and Rykal seated opposite her, side by side at the big communal table that had become the center of all human activity onSilence.
It was a miracle that they’d even been given this space; a large, high-ceilinged room with expansive windows that looked out onto the glittering backdrop of the Universe. How was it possible that they'd been able to command such a space on one of the most dangerous and advanced warships in the Nine Galaxies?
The girls jokingly called it theKordolian Wives’ Club, but really, it was just a room that had been turned into a safe, homely space, free for all humans onboard to enjoy.
Kordolians weren’t permitted to invade—except when invited.
Like now, for instance. Right now, there were only three human mates onboard the ship at the moment—herself, Arin, and Abbey. The rest were going to come onboard soon, as the Kordolians prepared for tensions between them and the once-ruling Kythian nobility to escalate.
In the meantime, the girls had ordered takeout and invited her and Ash to dinner.
It was almost like a regular human get-together on Earth, only the guys in attendance were: a lethal warrior from the most feared military unit in the Nine Galaxies, a former general who’d toppled the entire Kordolian Empire, and her very own warrior of few words, who was equally as deadly and had the ability to render himself invisible with a thought.
Noa allowed her own barriers to drop as she approached the table, Ash hovering just beside her like a silent shadow.
“Good evening everyone,” she said, greeting them with a small wave. In her other hand was a bag made of silken Kordolian fabric—it contained the toy she’d made for Ami.
“Hey, Noa.” Arin waved them over. “So glad you could join us. You too, Ash.”
Ashrael clasped his hands behind his back and nodded, his expression serious. He looked terribly handsome in his simplekashkan, which was a shade somewhere between turquoise and navy blue.
“I didn’t actually think you’d turn up,” Rykal said to Ashrael. “But it’s good to see that even the likes ofuscan come together for our humans.”
“I’ve long since turned the tip of my blade in another direction,” Ashrael said, his tone mild even though Noa could sense his prickle of irritation. It was so easy to forget that not too long ago, these two would have tried to take each other’s heads off. “But if you would like a repeat of the beating you endured in our sparring session, I’m happy to oblige.”
The First Division warrior laughed. “Beating? Speak for yourself. I obviously won that one.”
“Won? Doubtful. If you didn’t possess unnatural healing properties, you’d be dead.”
