“What’s wrong?” she cried.
“I don’t know.” He groaned, looking paler.
Then, the ship’s engine died.
Mal’s stomach dropped to her boots. “Are you strapped in?” She leaned over, checking him.
His eyes were narrow slits. He was barely holding onto consciousness.
“Hold on, Rhain.”
He managed a nod.
She checked his harness, then she turned back to the controls. She needed to baby the ship so—
The nose dropped.
Oh, fuck.
She started yanking on the controller, trying all the levers. “Three crashes in a week, really?”
Rhain slumped beside her. She tried all the controls and watched helplessly as they lost altitude.
She didn’t want to die. She didn’t want Rhain to die.
The ground got closer and closer and she braced.
They slammed into a field, dirt spraying over the cockpit windshield. Then she was tossed forward and it was lights out.
Mal woke and groaned. She felt wrung out, beyond exhausted, but not in agony.
She remembered the crash. What happened after that?
She dragged in a breath and smelled Rhain. She opened her eyes and saw him lying beside her on a big bed. He was asleep, resting on his side, facing her. That masculine face still looked hard and rugged in sleep.
Pushing up on one elbow, she realized that she was wearing a loose shirt that was way too big for her. The bedroom was huge and full of light. There were smooth stone floors, loads of green plants in pots, and a big bed that dominated the space. There was an interesting string instrument resting in one corner. His kilwar blades hung on the wall, and she saw her sword and scabbard resting on a wooden dresser.
Rhain’s bedroom.
She looked back at him. His dark hair was stark against the white pillow. She touched his bare arm. He felt warm.
She leaned over to check his burned back, but there was no sign of his terrible injuries. Air shuddered out of her. Thank God.
“Welcome back.”
Tavith.
Mal swiveled and watched the medica hurry in.
“You are really testing my healing abilities,” he huffed.
“Sorry.” Her voice was croaky.
“Somehow I don’t think you are.” He lifted his wrist and scanned her, studying the projection. He grunted.
“What happened?”
“You held back a wave of hexids, then let loose with a huge energy blast, fought some blaze hexids, and then decided to crash a Zhylaw ship.”
“It was a slow day.” She winced. “I feel like I’ve been pummeled by rocks.”
“Our illustrious overlord came to for a bit when we reached the crash site and told us what happened. I’ve never seen the captain of the guard so angry.”
“I don’t know, angry seems Thadd’s standard mode.”
“Rhain demanded we bring you here, to his room, and heal you, even though he was badly injured.”
She stiffened, her gaze dropping to his face. “Is he okay?”
“He’s still unconscious, but he’s fine.”
Suddenly, the doors were flung open and a woman in a blue dress strode in. Her brown hair was piled up in a complicated design. Her bearing was regal and elegant, and her eyes were a brilliant blue.
Two guards wearing red sashes stood by a door, eyeing the woman with uncertain looks. Tavith nodded at them and they closed the doors.
“Countess Naveri.” Tavith bowed his head.
Mal yanked the sheet up to her chest.
“Is this the woman my adopted son risked his life for?” She spoke in smooth, even tones.
“Yes, Mallory West, Countess Naveri.”
“Hi.” Was she supposed to curtsey or something?
The woman sniffed and looked at Rhain. “Is he all right? When will he wake up?”
“His vitals are fine,” Tavith said. “He should wake soon, I hope. It’s hard to tell.”
The woman made a sound.
Mal looked up at her. It was clear she cared for Rhain. “I didn’t mean for him to get hurt. I told him to leave me.”
The countess sniffed. “So Thadd told me.”
Thadd. Mal realized the woman had Thadd’s eyes. His mother.
“I’m looking for my best friend.” And now Krastin had Poppy. Mal felt sick. God, was Poppy okay? The guy was a psychopath, from everything she’d heard.
“I understand.” The countess’ gaze softened a fraction. “Rhain’s mother was my best friend.”
The medica cleared his throat. “For now, the overlord and Mallory need some rest.”
The countess’ blue gaze zeroed in on Mal. Mal fought the urge to fidget and held it.
“Very well. I would like to be informed when he awakens.” With another piercing, unreadable look, the older woman swept out.
“Does she practice entering and exiting a room like that?” Mal wondered.
Tavith’s lips quirked. “Now, I want you to rest.”
“I think—”
He held up a hand. “No. Just resting. Don’t get up. Don’t fight a hexid. Don’t fly an alien ship. Stay in this bed.”
She heaved a sigh. “Fine.” She really didn’t want more lectures.
“Good. I’ll check on you in a few hours.”
Mal lay down beside Rhain, taking in his dark, thick lashes. “Hey, your Overlordness, it’d be good if you opened those eyes.”
His eyelashes fluttered.
“Come on, Rhain, please don’t just lie around. That’s lazy. We have an alien warlord to take down.”
He opened one eye. “Lazy?”
She gasped and sat up. “You’re awake?”
“For a few minutes. I was waiting for the countess to leave.”
Mal snorted. “You’re king of an entire planet, but you’re afraid of your adopted mom?”
A faint smile on his lips. “Afraid is a strong word. She lectures. A lot. Especially when she’s upset. I wanted to avoid that.”
Mal brushed his fingers. They curled around hers.
“Are you okay?” she asked quietly.
“Yes, just a headache. You?”
She nodded.
“You don’t like seeing me get hurt,” he murmured.
She looked down, her heart thudding. “I guess not.”
“Come closer, Mal.”
He sat up, the sheet pooling at his waist.
Oh boy. She’d never seen a better bare chest. He was perfectly proportioned, with gorgeous tan skin, and lots of lean muscle.
“I don’t like seeing you hurt, either,” he said. “Now, I promised you that when we got back here, you were mine.”
Desire flared inside her, scalding hot. “You’re hurt.”
“No, I was hurt. Now, I’m all healed.” He loomed closer.
“Rhain—”
She didn’t get to finish. Rhain moved and Mal found herself flat on her back, with him on top of her.
His mouth hit hers and then he was kissing her.
Yes. Heat pumped off him. She made a sound, gripped his arms and deepened the kiss.
He angled his head, tongue plunging. She made a hungry, muffled sound, desire unfurling. It drenched her, leaving her on fire.
His hands skimmed her body, then fisted in the loose shirt she wore. He broke the kiss to rip it off her and she lifted her arms to help.