The Alien's Equal (Drixonian Warrior #7) - Ella Maven Page 0,12
“Nice try. I’m not getting a beat down from Xavy for accidentally touching your boob.”
“He wouldn’t mind.”
Hap shot her a scathing look.
She huffed. “Okay maybe he would.”
“Where are your guys now anyway?” I asked.
“Council meeting,” Tab said.
“Shep too?” Usually Shep didn’t attend.
Hap nodded. “In case you haven’t noticed, plans are accelerated. Couple of scouts have reported increased Uldani army activity at Alazar.” He rose to his feet and placed his arm over Tab’s shoulders. “Enjoy the last bit of peace we have. Soon we’ll most likely be on lockdown as we send squads of soldiers out to battle. They’re working on the initial offensive plans now.”
My mouth went dry, and I could only nod as Tabitha and Hap said their goodbyes to leave me alone. When the door shut behind them, I sank down on my bed. I’d been so caught up in my inner turmoil over Nero I’d pushed aside the increasing tensions in the clavas. All the warriors had been walking around with the weight of the world on their shoulders.
I hated being in the dark about what was going on. Control was something I’d never had growing up—not when my father coasted in and out of my life until he knocked up my mom the second time before disappearing forever.
Not when my mother—who was a terrible parent on her best day—died of breast cancer within thirty days of being diagnosed.
And especially not when Fallon and I had to live with my aunt and uncle. My aunt resented our presence, and my uncle enjoyed our presence a little too much, especially when I sprouted boobs overnight.
I shuddered, pushing those memories away. As soon as I turned eighteen, I sought custody of Fallon, worked my way over six years to a bachelor’s degree, and never once let myself feel trapped in an out of control situation again. Well, except for my relationship with Bradly… I shuddered, slamming the door on those memories.
Control over my own life had been paramount to my mental health, and I’d worked hard to maintain it through my mid-to-late twenties. I’d turned thirty feeling confident and settled. That was, until I was abducted by the Rahgul and dumped on this alien planet. I’d tried to wrestle back control of my own life, but with war coming, everything felt uncertain. I’d never been good at sitting on the sidelines when my own well-being was involved.
I’d fought all my life. I couldn’t just stop fighting now, when everything that mattered was on the line, when the outcome meant life or death for all of us. I imagined pregnant Frankie in the hands of the Uldani, and I dug my nails into my palms as anger burned through me.
Frankie was one of the only reasons I hadn’t done something drastic to myself on this planet. Half out of my mind with fear, she’d been the only one to get through to me and show me the Drixonians wouldn’t harm us. I’d trusted her, and she hadn’t let me down. I refused to be a passive bystander should something happen to her.
Why was it that the Drixonians hadn’t consulted with us about what was happening? Why hadn’t they extended an offer to us to help? Hell, we weren’t even doing Rosie the Riveter stuff back at the homestead. Instead us women were being kept in the dark and locked away while the men went off to fight the war. This wasn’t the 1950s.
I knew the council met in a back room of the large dining hall building. I’d seen them trek back there too many times to count, like an ol’ boys club. Well I was going to see for myself what they were up to. Why they didn’t have a diverse council was beyond me. I should have a say in what was happening. For a race of warriors who came from a matriarchal society, they sure liked their all-male leaders.
After taking a small slug of Xavy’s spirits for courage, I slipped out of my room. Because everyone was nosey as hell around here, I tried to keep to the shadows, walking between the buildings and the walls instead of taking the direct route across the grounds to the dining hall. If either Bazel or Tabitha spotted me, I’d never get to my destination without a round of twenty-one questions.
I slipped into a side door of the dining hall that we mostly used to haul in supplies or take out trash. Easing the door shut behind me, I