“Hey!” the dimo roared, the fingers on all four of his hands twitching. “Why do you get to fuck her all the time while the rest of us only see her once a week? And even then, she wouldn’t spread her legs for us to see or do anything!”
Wyck’s temper flared.
“Listen you!” He pivoted into the dimo’s direction. “No one is fucking her. Definitely, not you.” He raised his fist, searching for the least armored place on the dimo’s face to land a blow.
“There, there, now.” Nocc stepped closer, draping his arm around Wyck’s shoulders. “Krakhil is a friend. A family friend. Okay?”
“He is not family.” Wyck glared at the dimo, keeping his fist aimed at the male’s face.
“No, of course not.” Nocc patted Wyck’s arm in a gesture that felt more patronizing than calming. “But you are.” He led Wyck down the corridor again, with the rest of the group catching up. “We’re a family, Wyck, don’t forget that. We live together. We fight together. And we die together. Our loyalty to each other is what has kept us alive all these years—here on the Dark Anomaly and out there before that.”
Nocc slowed down, making the two of them fall behind the rest of the group.
“Women are whores to be fucked and tossed out,” he continued casually.
Wyck had heard these words often. Never before, however, had they made his skin crawl with revulsion as they did now. His mind and his heart rejected the notion.
“That’s what your father did to the female who gave birth to you,” Nocc kept going. “He left her in the filthy brothel he’d found her in. It’s your luck you were born a boy, so he brought you on his ship. One day, you would’ve taken over his entire fleet. You’re the true leader of this family, Wyck. And the leader is always just and generous to his people. The human girl is our bounty. And as such, she should be shared fairly among all of us. That’s what the Great Scodr would’ve done. It’s your legacy, Wyck.”
“If I am the ‘true leader’ of the family,” Wyck had chosen a portion of Nocc’s speech to focus on, “then I want you to help me carry out this task.”
He stopped outside the mess hall, gesturing to the rest of their group to carry on walking.
Krakhil folded his arms across his chest, taking a stance that said he was not moving anywhere. Trox and Gler also paused, glancing at Nocc for directions.
So much for Wyck being their leader. After the death of Crux, Nocc had been the one who held the true power in their group.
Nocc waved his hand, making them all move away, then turned to face Wyck again.
“You don’t need to be afraid of Vrateus, boy,” he said in a conspiratorial tone. “His days are numbered. He and his woman are as good as dead. I promise I’ll let you have the final round with Svetlana, so you can fuck her to death and have your vengeance.”
Wyck knew it was his obligation to avenge the death of Crux, but that wasn’t how he’d do it. When he finally killed Svetlana, he’d do it the way she killed Crux, by shooting her in the belly. That was the reason he kept taking his time, Wyck told himself, he needed to get hold of a gun first.
“Nocc.” He diverted the male’s attention to what he felt was more important than vengeance at the moment. “I don’t want any harm to come to Nadia.”
“Who is Nadia?” Nocc made a face, as if the sound of any female name was offensive purely because it was female.
“The woman in my charge.”
“You know her name?” Nocc slid him a suspicious glance, his expression sour.
“I have to call her something, don’t I?” Wyck snapped.
Nocc shrugged instead of an answer, and Wyck made an effort to rein in his temper.
“We are a family,” he used Nocc’s own words. “I have a task to complete, and I’m asking for your help.”
“Which is?” Nocc narrowed his eyes at him.
“To keep the female safe. I can’t do it alone,” he added as Nocc curled his lip in disgust. “You saw what happened the last time.”
Nocc tilted his head. “Did you hear anything of what I’ve just told you, boy?”
“I heard every word, Nocc.” Keeping his rising anger and frustration at bay was proving harder by the minute. “And I’ll tell you the same thing I’ve told you before—no one harms Nadia.