by Kali Argent
“I didn’t know I was supposed to!” Bastian yelled back. “Why didn’t you tell him?”
“I was going to, but he kind of dropped me in the middle of the floor and ran out of the room like it was on fire. Which, technically, I guess it kind of was, but still.”
Bastian opened his mouth, presumably to yell some more, but stopped and frowned. “You set the kitchen on fire?”
Isla sighed and rolled her eyes. “I said ‘technically.’ It was just a lot of smoke, then the fire foam sprayed all over the room.” When he still looked confused, she took a deep breath and started from the beginning, ending with the heated kiss they’d shared before Knox had practically sprinted out of the room. “So, there you have it.”
“Damn it, Knox,” Bastian muttered, shoving his fingers through his loose hair. “Okay, I’ll talk to him.”
“I think you’ve done quite enough.”
“What? I didn’t do anything.”
“Exactly.”
The narrow door slid open, and Slade stepped into the room with a furrowed brow. “I can hear you two all the way down the hall. What the hell are you fighting about?”
“Nothing,” she and Bastian snapped in unison.
Slade held his hands up in surrender and started to back out of the room, but Isla advanced on him, and poked him square in the chest with her index finger.
“Stop it. I know what you’re doing, and you can just knock it off right now.”
“I’m sure I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, princess.”
It had been days since she’d felt anything from him, and she knew he was purposely blocking her. He knew damn well what she was talking about, but she didn’t have time to argue with him, not yet.
“I have to go find Knox, but I’m not finished with you.”
“What the fuck did I do?” she heard him ask Bastian as she shoved past him and exited the room.
“I don’t know,” Bastian answered, his voice fading behind her. “I’d apologize, though. Whatever it was, just say you’re sorry.”
Isla didn’t want Slade’s apology, though. She wanted him to stop being so damn stubborn. In the past two days, she’d made several attempts to get him alone, but like Knox, it seemed he’d been purposely avoiding her. Part of her wondered if Bastian hadn’t been wrong about his brothers, but then she remembered the way Knox had kissed her, the desire and guilt that had raged inside him, and she knew that wasn’t the case.
Whatever held Knox back, it wasn’t a lack of interest.
She chalked it up to miscommunication, and partly, she blamed herself. Instead of telling Knox how she felt about him, about all three of them, she’d taken it for granted that he already knew. In her defense, she’d never been in a long-term relationship before, and at this point, she was just kind of winging it.
Making her way through the narrow corridors, she nodded and waved at several of the crew members as she passed them in the hall or walked by their workstations on her way to the command deck. The last she’d heard, Knox had been taking Cord to visit with the pilot and “fly” the ship again.
As she neared the deck, she prepared herself for an awkward confrontation, but what she found brought her up short and melted any lingering irritation with the male. Standing just outside of the doorway, she leaned against the wall and pressed her fingers to her lips as she watched three big, intimidating males engage in the sweetest tea party she’d ever seen.
Knox, Kylir, and Rakesh sat cross-legged in a loose circle on the floor with Cord. They didn’t have a proper playset, or delicate, floral teacups, but they’d improvised with bulky coffee mugs, and they’d used what appeared to be a beer stein in place of a teapot.
Carefully, Cord poured the imaginary tea into four mugs, passed a cup to each of his playmates, and lifted his own into the center of the circle.
“You do it like this.”
The adults mimicked him, lifting their cups so that they clinked against each other. Then, they all sipped the make-believe tea, oohing and ahhing about how good it was.
“Wow, Cord,” Knox exclaimed. “Where did you learn to make tea like that?”
Cord shrugged his little shoulders. “I just did.”
Modest, he was not, and Isla had to bite the inside of her cheek to hold back her giggles.
“Wait.” Kylir lifted his cup again and stuck his pinky finger out to the side. “You do it like this. That makes it fancy.”
“That’s right,” Rakesh agreed, holding out his own pinky. “Then you nod a lot and talk about doilies.”
Cord wrinkled his nose. “What’s that?”
“I have no idea, kid. Females like them, though.”
“Oh, is that right?” Breaking her silence, Isla stepped through the wide, arching doorway and onto the command deck. “I assure you, Rakesh, I have never used a doily in my life.”
“Mommy!” Cord launched himself up from the floor and ran to greet her as the other males scrambled to their feet with sheepish grins. “We’re havin’ a party.”
“I see that. It’s such a fancy party, too.” She smoothed her hands over the simple black T-shirt she wore. “I really don’t think I’m dressed for it.”
“You look beautiful,” Knox blurted, then turned half a dozen shades of red before turning away.
He’d been damning himself ever since that kiss they’d shared in the galley, but he’d also been able to think of little else. He still hadn’t confessed his sin to Bastian, and the guilt gnawed at him. It didn’t matter that Isla had initiated the kiss. He should have been stronger, more in control, and he definitely shouldn’t have kissed her back.
The incident also confused him. Isla hadn’t seemed like the type to stray, so he couldn’t reconcile her behavior. Maybe it had all been a big misunderstanding, but he’d always been a firm believer in not asking questions unless he truly wanted the answers.
A selfish part him wanted Isla with a fierceness that scared him, but she belonged to Bastian, and he’d never hurt his brother like that. Another part of him, a quiet yet growing voice in the back of his mind, said the situation was all too reminiscent of Ursa. He just couldn’t imagine Isla being that cold or manipulative, though.
Which brought him right back to where he’d started, and he still didn’t know what to do about it. So, he’d avoided her. He’d avoided Bastian. For good measure, he’d even been dodging Slade for the past two days.
“Knox.” Isla spoke his name softly, almost pleadingly. “Can we talk? Please?”
With his back still turned, Knox closed his eyes and tried to tame his racing pulse. He knew it was wrong, but he could help that he was in love with his brother’s mate. Now that all of them were connected, their feelings on display to each other, it wouldn’t be long before Bastian and Isla knew it, too—if they didn’t already.
“Kylir, can you keep an eye on Cord for a little bit?” he asked as he opened his eyes and turned to face Isla. “We’ll be right back.”
“Sure thing,” the pilot agreed before calling Cord back to him. “Take your time. We’re just going to have more tea.”
He appreciated it, but the conversation wouldn’t take long.
Silently, he slid past Isla and marched down the corridor, leading her to the nearest room that offered a measure of privacy, which just happened to be the galley. At least the crew had managed to scrub the ruined cake batter off the ceiling since he’d last been there.
“Knox, I’m sorry,” Isla blurted as soon as the kitchen doors slid closed behind them. “I shouldn’t have kissed you like that.”
Her words weren’t exactly unexpected, and even though he knew he shouldn’t want her, he couldn’t help but feel a pang of disappointment. “No, you shouldn’t have. It can’t happen again.”
Isla frowned, and her icy blue eyes studied him for a long time before she spoke again. “Why not?”
“Because…wait, what?” She couldn’t be serious. “You just said you shouldn’t have kissed me.”
>
She bobbed her head slowly. “I shouldn’t have kissed you without talking to you first. That was my mistake, and I’m sorry. I guess with this link between us, I just kind of thought you already knew how I feel about you.”
Honestly, he’d been so busy wallowing in guilt and self-pity, he hadn’t really stopped to examine the wave of emotions flowing from her. It was bad enough that he loved her, but for her to love him back added a new layer of complications he hadn’t anticipated. Fuck, he couldn’t do this again. He couldn’t go through the shit Ursa had put them through.
“Slade is…difficult,” she continued, one side of her lips curving into a crooked smile. “It’s not just Bastian I want to be with, though.”
Slade is difficult to love.
Knox heard Ursa’s words as clearly as if she’d just spoken them, and they cut just as deeply now as they had then.
“I understand if it’s too much right now, and I know there’s a lot hanging over our heads. Once this is all over and we’ve cleared my name, though, I hope you’ll want to be with me. Both of you.”
Knox’s stomach twisted, and his heart climbed into his throat. He knew better than anyone that Slade could be stubborn and impossible, but if people bothered to look below the surface, to make an effort to break through his icy wall, they’d find no one more loyal. As much as he cared about Isla, as much as he wanted what she offered, he’d never betray Slade like that. Either they’d all share the same female, or they’d mate individually. That had been the pact they’d made, and he wouldn’t be the one to break it.
“We’ve already agreed to help you,” he responded, his voice quiet, his tone bitter. “You don’t need to sleep with me to get what you want.”
He instantly regretted his hasty words, but it was too late to call them back. Isla jerked away as if he’d slapped her. Tears welled in the corners of her eyes, even as her jaw hardened and her hands fisted at her sides.
“Fuck you, Knox.”
As she swept out of the room, her head high but her shoulders shaking, Knox cursed under his breath. He hadn’t meant what he’d said, and he hated himself for hurting her. He’d been angry and wounded, and he’d lashed out, wanting her to feel even a fraction of what he did.
Mission accomplished.
“Well, that was painful to witness.” Bastian stepped out of the shadows near the pantry and shook his head. “Have you sustained a head injury lately that I don’t know about? I don’t remember you being this stupid.”
Great, this just kept getting better. “I kissed Isla.”
Sauntering across the room, Bastian leaned his hip against one of the gleaming metal counters and crossed his arms over his chest. “I know.”
He didn’t look pissed, not yet, but Knox’s next confession would surely test the limits of their brotherly bond. “I love her, Bas.”
“I know.”
“I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t stop thinking about her. I’m a shitty brother.” Sighing, he dropped his head, resting his chin on his chest, and tried to come up with a way to make things right with Bastian. “I could leave. When we stop on X4, I can stay at Fortuna when you leave for Earth.”
He’d be bored out of his mind within a week, but he’d do it because it was the right thing to do.
“I can’t tell if you’re being serious right now or not. Why would you leave?”
They’d never been apart for more than few days, not ever. Knox didn’t want to think about a life without his brothers in it, but he needed to fix what he’d broken if he wanted to stay aboard the Storm Rider.
“I would offer you Lavation.”
Lavation was an ancient ritual left over from their homeworld before the Zyphir had ravaged their planet. It involved paying a penance to the person one had wronged, a sacrifice of sorts, usually physical, such as lashes from a barbed flogger. The terms of the punishment fell to the one who had been wronged. More than one Krytos had died during the ritual, so Lavation was never offered until all other avenues had been exhausted, and Knox didn’t offer it lightly now, either.
“Okay, stop.” Pushing away from the counter, Bastian clapped Knox on the shoulder and looked him dead in the eyes. “I don’t know where our wires got so crossed, so let me just lay it out for you. Isla loves you. Hell, I just heard her all but say it, right before you basically called her a whore.”
Knox winced at the reminder. “I didn’t mean it.”
“Yeah, well, I suggest a lot of groveling.”
“What the hell are you trying to say?”
“I’m saying she’s the one, you idiot. I’m saying get your head out of your ass and get with the damn program. She wants to be with us. All of us, and I think that makes us three of the luckiest sons of bitches in the universe.” Bastian laughed when Knox just blinked at him. “Nod if you understand.”
“All of us?” That hadn’t been what she’d said. “She said she hoped that we’d both want to be with her. Not all three of us.”
“Yes.” Bastian huffed in exasperation and rolled his eyes. “Meaning you and Slade. I’m already with her. Obviously. Are you sure you didn’t hit your head?”
The more Bastian talked, the clearer it became, until Knox wondered how in the stars he’d managed to be so woefully obtuse. “But you claimed her.”
“I claimed her first,” his brother corrected. “Mostly, because I can’t imagine ever being without her, but also because being mated to a Krytos gives her some protection once we’re back on Earth.”
That was actually damn smart. Holy nova, Knox felt like a complete jackass. Normally, he and Bastian were better at this whole communication thing, but things hadn’t exactly been normal since Isla had walked into their lives. Still, he shouldn’t have jumped to conclusion, and he could have saved himself a lot of trouble if he hadn’t spent two days trying to hide from the problem.
“I’m an idiot.”
“Yep.” Bastian cupped the side of Knox’s head and rested their brows together briefly as he chuckled. “Now,” he added as he backed away, “you should probably go apologize.”
Knox wanted nothing more, but memories of Ursa wouldn’t leave him alone. If he never saw the female again, it would be too soon. “You’re sure about this?”
“I wouldn’t have claimed her otherwise.” Turning Knox toward the door, Bastian gave him a hard shove. “Don’t take my word for it, though. Go talk to her, and remember to grovel.”
If she’d even talk to him after the way he’d acted, he’d be surprised. With a short nod, he left Bastian in the galley and went to seek out the object of his affection. He’d been a fool, letting past hurts cloud the present. He just hoped Isla would hear him out before she metaphorically slammed the door in his face.
“Pip, locate Isla Blevins,” he said aloud as he stomped down the curved corridor toward the lift that would take him to the upper deck and the living quarters.
“Life scans show Isla Blevins in cabin A9.”
“Got it. Thanks, Pip.”
“My records indicate that a token of affection, such as flowers, is appropriate when seeking forgiveness.”
Great, even the fucking ship knew what an asshole he’d been. “Well, we don’t have flowers.”
“Very well. Good luck, sir.”
If Knox didn’t know better, he’d swear the AI sounded disappointed in him. Not that he didn’t deserve it, but it would have been nice if at least one person was on his side, even if that person was made up of wires and clever programming.
“Did you really call Miss Isla a whore?” a deep, angry voice asked from behind him.
Stopping in the middle of the hall, Knox choked back a sigh and turned to face their chief security officer. “Bas has a big mouth.” He’d just left the damn kitchen. How the hell had his brother already spread the word to the rest of the ship? “To answer your question, though, no. Not in so many words.” When Rakesh continued to glare at him, Knox threw his hands in the air. “I’m going to go throw myself at her feet and beg
for mercy right now. I fucked up, okay? Is that what you want to hear?”
Rakesh didn’t smile, but his tense posture relaxed marginally, and he gave Knox a curt not. “That would be a good start.” His dark gaze stayed fixed on Knox, his ebony hair falling around his face to create shadows that made him look even more intimidating. “That damn female just keeps causing problems.”
Anger swelled, and Knox rankled at the insult. “This isn’t Isla’s fault.”
“She’s not the female I meant.” With that, he turned his back and headed in the opposite direction, leaving only his judgment behind to make Knox feel about two inches tall.
Rakesh was right. It had been almost seven years since they’d dropped Ursa off on that space station, and yet, she still continued to poison their lives. If they wanted to move on and truly be happy, the needed to find a way to expunge her memory for good, but Isla’s arrival had opened old wounds and inflamed new doubts.
Mercifully, he didn’t encounter any other crew members on the lift or in the hallway on the upper deck, and he arrived at Isla’s quarters without enduring further scrutiny. He knocked on the wall beside her door and called her name.
“Isla, please.”
After several seconds that felt like eternity, the door slid open with a high-pitched whine. He’d have to get someone up there to look at that.
If he’d expected to find Isla crying into her pillow, he’d have been sorely disappointed. The female sat in a wooden, straight-back chair near the circular window, staring out in the vastness of space with a thoughtful expression. She didn’t react to his entrance, didn’t greet him or even look at him.
Unsure of how to begin unraveling the issues he’d caused, Knox crossed the room silently, and eased down on the edge of the small bed. Bastian had offered to share his larger, more comfortable suite with her, but she’d declined. She hadn’t said why, and Knox had just assumed it had something to do with Cord. Now, he had to wonder if her reasons hadn’t had something more to do with him and Slade.
“Isla, please look at me.” Her indifference hurt more than her anger. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart.” He’d never had to grovel before, and he wasn’t quite sure how to accomplish it, but he had to start somewhere. “I was a complete ass, and I didn’t mean what I said.”