Punished by Tana Stone (story books to read TXT) 📗

In a burst of anger, I thrust my hand out hard, catching him in the solar plexus. Even though he was startled, he was only caught off guard for a second, darting his hand out and grabbing my wrist. I attempted to kick him, but he sidestepped my flailing foot, pulling me in and spinning me around so his body cocooned mine from behind.

I thrashed in his arms, but he knew all the moves I was using to get away. He knew because he’d taught them to me. After a few more failed attempts to get out of his grasp, I went still.

“I wish you’d never set foot on this planet,” I hissed. “I was better off before I knew that anything better existed out there.”

“I wish that, too,” he husked, his breath warm on my ear as he held me tight. “More than you can know.”

With a final heave, I elbowed him in the ribs and twisted from his arms, stumbling toward the door and not looking back as I ran out of his dwelling and up the rocky path toward my own. Tears made my vision blurry, but it was a route I knew all too well. It was one I’d walk up and down for the rest of my life, I thought with an ache of regret, knowing that my life would remain the same as the rotations passed, but Corvak would not be there.

“Good riddance,” I muttered to myself. He might have been the most interesting thing to ever happen to Kimithion III, but he’d been nothing but a distraction for me. A distraction that had given me false hope about a life I’d never have and a reality that couldn’t exist. I might not have been happy before the Vandar had arrived, but at least I hadn’t been heartbroken. I’d take emptiness any day over the painful ache that now resided in my chest.

Corvak’s words had been shards of glass piercing my heart. Now all that was left was a damaged shell, every punishing beat making it ache even more.

I held my breath as I slipped through the door and stumbled by my sleeping father snoring on the couch, too drunk to even notice my late arrival. When I reached my bedroom, I curled up onto the bed and pulled my knees into my chest. Even though I was alone, I refused to let anymore tears fall.

I would not cry over the Vandar raider. I clenched my fists and made myself into a tighter ball. No, I would focus all my pain and hurt on hating him instead.

Chapter Twenty

Ch 20

Corvak

Tvek. The sharp pain in my neck woke me, and I bolted upright, expecting to find an attacker. But there was no one in the living area of my quarters. Early-morning light sifted through the windows and dust motes danced in the hazy beams. No unusual sounds pricked my ears, only the distant song of a bird greeting the suns.

I rubbed my neck and glanced back at the couch on which I sat. The pain had come from attempting to compress my oversized body onto a compact couch and sleeping with my neck at an unnaturally sharp angle. I grumbled as I massaged the tender spot on my neck, the pain radiating down my shoulder.

“Just what I need before a battle. The inability to turn my neck.”

I cast another dark glance at the offending couch, as if it was the fault of the worn furniture, when in fact I had no one to blame for my current mood or pain but myself. I remembered Sienna running from my quarters and touched a hand to my gut where she’d landed her last blow. I almost longed for the pain of her sharp elbow, instead of the dull ache of regret that now consumed me.

After I’d watched her rush off, I had paced in front of the couch for what felt like an eternity, debating whether or not I should go after her. Even though I desperately wanted to talk to her and make her understand, I knew it was for the best if there was a clean break. Even if she despised me for it. I’d finally flopped down onto the couch and let sleep overtake me, too weary to stagger back to the sleeping chamber.

“Which was a mistake,” I mumbled, as I tried to swivel my neck, flinching from the pain.

Standing, I walked to the galley kitchen, my gaze resting briefly on the empty windowsill. There were no fresh pastries wrapped up in rough cloth this morning. As much as I’d welcomed the crusty rolls and sugar-coated breads each morning, wolfing them down eagerly as crumbs cascaded from my lips and scattered onto the floor, it was Sienna’s gifting of them that I missed. Knowing that the female had crept to my sill and tucked the warm bread inside the sheer curtain had given me a small thrill each morning, and made the day’s tasks seem less arduous.

I shook it off, frowning at how soft I’d gotten. I’d never had breakfast delivered to me on the Vandar warbird, nor had our bread been as delicious as the creations Sienna’s sister baked. Is this what happened to warriors when they were around human females for too long? Is this what happened to Kratos and Bron? Had their minds gone soft with thoughts of the women, their bodies powerless to resist them?

I slammed a hand on the stone counter, glad for the sharp sting to snap me out of my funk. It didn’t matter. I no longer had a human female to distract me and keep me from focusing on the battle ahead. I would not go the way of my former Raas’ and let myself be ruled by my obsession with Sienna.

I chugged the last of the water from a nearby earthenware pitcher and strode from the kitchen, where I hooked my belt around my waist and shoved my feet into my