Forged (Star Breed #10) - Elin Wyn Page 0,25

water wide enough that I couldn’t see where it ended.

“How large does a body of water have to be in order to have waves?” I wondered aloud. “We’re on a moon, and as far as I know, Sat 9 doesn’t have its own satellites. Apparently, there’s a lot I didn’t know about this place.”

Hakon stood next to me, watching the lake carefully. “No idea. But either they’re waves, or something is in there, moving around. Maybe several somethings.”

Huh.

I needed to think about that for a few minutes, I decided. I wandered away, feeling a little more comfortable with the glowing but completely stationary towering fungi.

When my world had been turned upside down, I’d left school and never finished the engineering degree that was all I’d ever wanted.

With a careful finger, I poked at the spongy surface of some fungi, the texture surprisingly velvety, almost soothing just to touch.

Maybe I should’ve studied biology instead. Maybe someday, when everything was right again, I should do that.

If that ever happened.

If we ever made it back.

“Honey,” a shout from back by the lake pulled me from my spiraling thoughts. “Dinner’s on!”

Hakon

I pulled the second skewer of fish off the burning moss and checked it again.

“Those things are really ugly,” Yasmin said, eyes narrowed.

“True,” I agreed. They were pale, rubbery looking things. No eyes that I could discern, just a strangely elongated head covered with tiny prickly scales.

But, if the analyzer was working correctly, and I was pretty sure it was, since I’d been the one to make it, eating it wouldn’t kill us.

“If we’re still down here tomorrow, we can start looking for other protein options,” I said. “But for now, dig in.”

The moss, with its excess of oxygen, had made an excellent campfire. It’d taken the slightest spark to catch, and I’d been careful to clear a wide swath of rock around it. Threading another speared fish onto a permasteel skewer, I gazed at the cavern with a combination of awe and suspicion.

“I’ve never seen anything like this,” I admitted. “And I’ve seen a lot of strange stuff.”

“Now you’ve got me curious,” Yasmin said, leaning back to recline against one of those weird mushroom things. “I think it’s your turn to go on with your story.”

The soft light gilded her face, the plain black tank she’d worn under the coveralls highlighting every curve of her chest.

With a flash, the vision of her stripped down in the desert came back to torment me, like it had all day. The passageway that had led us here was probably wider now than strictly necessary, but chiseling into the stone had been a great way to burn off the sudden fire that had burned through me.

At least, that had been the plan. But it was still there, banked deep in my gut.

“Hakon?”

What? Oh, right.

“Like I said, we’ve seen a lot of weird stuff over our missions,” I started. “My brothers and I are…”

I don’t know why the others always made such a big deal of this.

It was engineering, plain and simple.

People would handle the knowledge of what we were, how we’d been made.

Or they wouldn’t.

Either way, it didn’t really affect us.

Still, for the first time, I was a little concerned as to what someone might think.

Not just someone.

Yasmin.

But I stuck to the description I’d perfected.

“My brothers and I are a Pack of illegal, lab-grown, genetically modified mercenaries,” the words rolling off my tongue as quickly as possible. “At least, we were illegal. Recently, we’ve done a few favors for the new Emperor, and somehow, by the magic of legislation, we’re completely legitimate now.” I frowned. “Feels kinda weird, honestly.”

She studied me closely. “You’re not joking about any of that, are you?”

“Nope.” I reached towards the campfire, my hand trembling slightly, not quite ready to meet her eyes and see the judgment waiting there. “Ready for another fish?”

“No,” she said. “They’re all yours.”

I took one, munching through its crispy skin. They tasted just as bad as they looked. But I needed the calories.

It’d be stupid to let something as inconsequential as flavor hinder my performance.

Especially when Yasmin’s safety would be on the line.

Glancing at her, the knot in my belly tightened.

Maybe I was wrong. Maybe my origins would make a difference to her.

“Now you’ve done it,” she finally said. “Now I want to hear all your stories. And in all of that, you’ve never seen anything like this?”

I stopped chewing for a minute, pleased to know that I had been right.

The others had totally made too much of