Power (Dark Anomaly #2) - Marina Simcoe Page 0,40

only a pup. I hid him away from everyone and kept him alive until both of us grew big enough to protect each other. When Vrateus became the captain, I told him about Lesh. He made Lesh part of the crew, which gave him the same rights as everyone else. Under the captain’s rules, Lesh can’t be killed without punishment for the murderer. That doesn’t mean some still wouldn’t try to end him if they got a chance.”

He rested his hand on top of the middle head of the animal.

“Lesh needs to be vicious and scary in order to survive and to protect you and me. Deep inside, however, he is still the cuddly playful pup he’s always been. We’ll just keep your happy side a secret from everyone, right Lesh?” He patted his pet.

Being the only one who was let in on their secret made me feel even closer to both of them, as if I was now officially included into their tiny group.

Stroking Lesh’s smooth scales, I snuggled into Wyck’s warm side. These few square feet of space by the door might be the only place in the entire Dark Anomaly where both of us felt the most comfortable.

“I’ll tell you what,” I said. “You’ll finish reading this chapter, then we’ll take a break from learning. This afternoon I’d say let’s watch a movie together. There are a couple you got from the library last time. One even looks like it may have some dancing in it.”

He wrapped his arm around my shoulders and settled the tablet between us, re-opening the biography he’d been reading.

I listened as he read out loud, still haltingly and tripping over some long or unknown words. His perseverance was admirable, though, and the speed with which he soaked up everything new simply astonishing.

Sitting like that, cuddling next to Wyck under the blanket, I could almost forget where I was and what lay ahead of me.

Almost.

Chapter 13

WYCK

“Hey, boy,” Nocc stopped him outside of Nadia’s room. Trox and Gler were with him, as they often kept together. What surprised Wyck was that Krakhil, a dimo, was also standing nearby, looking as if he were a part of their group, too.

“How is the female doing?” Krakhil asked, a smirk stretching the lipless mouth on his hard-plated face.

“Fine.” Wyck started walking towards the mess hall.

It’d been eight days since Nadia landed on the Dark Anomaly. Another session in the mess hall was scheduled for tonight. He had left Nadia in her room because he needed to set up the tables for her dance. He also had to get some lunch for her and Lesh.

The four males who’d accosted him in the corridor were too close to Nadia’s room, which troubled him. He walked faster, eager to get them as far away from her as possible.

Thankfully, all four followed him.

“You’ve been selfish, Wyck.” Trox elbowed his way closer to him. “One of the only two females available is in your reach, and you’ve been keeping her all to yourself for the entire week.”

“I’m keeping her safe, for all of us.” The statement sounded wrong even to his own ears.

Vrateus had said that Nadia belonged to them all. By now, however, she was more Wyck’s than anyone else’s.

Only his.

Mine.

The powerful urge to proclaim that out loud vibrated through him. His muscles ached to be put to a good use. He balled his hands into fists, ready to strike.

“If she is ours how come you’re the only one who smells like her?” Trox growled.

Did he?

Nadia had been taking showers with the soap regularly, making her scent barely discernible. There hadn’t been any sex or even kisses between them, of course. The scent Trox was talking about must be coming simply from him being in her proximity daily.

She’d sit next to him in the entryway, the only portion of that room he could tolerate because it had a solid floor instead of glass. He loved the feeling of her body pressed to his—one of the reasons why he’d been spending so much time in the room he hated. He’d often wrap his arm around her shoulders, to get her even closer.

It wasn’t much, but they would spend hours siting side by side—enough time apparently for her scent to transfer to his clothes and skin.

Knowing he had her scent on him pleased him, even as Trox continued to harp at him, “We’re a family, Wyck. What yours is ours.”

“How about him, then?” Wyck tipped his chin at Krakhil. “Is he a part

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