Born of Vengeance (The League #10)

Jayne arched a brow. “How much crap have you given him, Syn?”


“That ain’t my drug, baby. That’s called l-o-v-e.”

Jayne scoffed. “Hauk? Love? Lorina shit.”

“It’s true. That’s why his eyes are red,” Darling said to her. “Can’t hide or deny that.”

Syn injected something into the IV.

Dancer shoved at him. “Why did you do that?”

“You need to rest.”

Dancer grabbed the front of Darling’s battlesuit. “Keep Sumi safe for me. Don’t let anyone harm her. Swear…” He passed out.

Sumi caught him against her and laid him down gently.

They all three stared at her as if she was a three-headed Gourish snake.

“What?”

Without answering her, Syn moved to check on Bastien.

Darling continued to hold Dancer’s IV.

“Jayne?” Syn called. “On my twelve, babe.”

She came over to him, leaving Sumi alone with Darling while she knelt down to assist Syn.

Bastien held his breath, trying really hard not to breathe in her perfume. “Hard” being the operative word he was also trying to not think about.

Damn his body. And damn him for having gone so long without a woman that being this close to one was practically killing him.

Trying to distract himself any way he could, Bastien focused on what Darling and Sumi were talking about.

“So what did you name your son?” she asked.

“Cezar.”

“Congratulations. I know Dancer will be thrilled to meet him.”

Darling shook his head. “And he lets you call him Dancer, too … damn. He really must love you.”

“It’s a beautiful name,” she said defensively.

He scoffed. “Says the woman who didn’t have to go to school or into League training with it. Take it from someone named Darling, it’s been a constant source of agony for him the whole of his life.”

Sumi paled. “I-I didn’t mean to hurt him with it.”

Darling covered her hand with his. “Trust me, given the way you say it, he doesn’t mind. If he did, he’d stop you. Tolerance is not one of his virtues.”

Bastien would definitely agree with that statement. He had yet to meet an Andarion with much tolerance for anything.

“Little Sumi?”

Bastien’s jaw went slack at the unexpected appearance of Fain Hauk. St. Jake … it’d been a long time, but his old friend looked good. Healthy. A lot more mentally stable than he’d been back in the day.

Fain was a huge beast of a creature—even larger than Dancer. And like his younger brother, he had traditional Andarion warrior braids, too, except a portion of his had been bleached white and he was dressed in Tavali gear with one of their masks hanging loose around his neck.

Bastien frowned as he vaguely recalled seeing some of their gear with Fain back in the day. Weird that he’d never thought to ask Fain about it, nor had he assumed Fain to be a member of their outlawed guild since it was a death sentence in most empires to be caught with any Tavali markings, Canting, or gear.

Including Kirovar.

But unlike Jullien, who was part of the Tavali Gorturnum Nation and had a black bug-looking Canting, Fain had a solid red sleeve badge, which meant he was a Rogue pilot. Someone who owed neither tithe nor allegiance to any single Tavali Nation.

Bastien dipped his gaze to see that even after all these years, Fain still wore Galene’s engagement ring around his pinkie. While he might have married Omira, Galene Batur was the one female alive who’d always owned Fain’s heart.

Like Bastien with Ember. She would always be the one who’d gotten away. The one he regretted losing.

Sumi turned around slowly.

And the pain on Fain’s painted face was tangible. He stared at her as if she were a ghost whose sole purpose was to haunt him.

Darling glanced back and forth between them. “You two know each other?”

“I was married to her older sister.” Fain blinked as if finally getting a handle on the fact that she wasn’t Omira and that she meant him no harm.

Jayne smacked her hand against her own forehead. “That’s why she looks so familiar. I knew I recognized her from somewhere. Stupid me. I was thinking bounty sheets, not Fain’s wife.”

Fain’s gaze dropped to Dancer’s head in Sumi’s lap. In that moment, Dancer blinked his eyes open as if he felt his brother’s presence. Guilt and anguish marked his features as he realized how this must look to Fain.

Moving forward, Fain dropped to his knees next to Dancer. “Hey, drey. You still with me?”

Dancer scowled. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Fain asked in a shocked tone.

He glanced at Sumi then back to Fain. “I never meant to hurt you.”