Chapter Seventeen

That night, Daeja tossed and turned on the large, rectangular sleeping platform. The bed was much too soft. Not at all like the floating obelisks that lined the sleeping quarters on the ship.

Maybe it was the deafening quiet causing her unrest. Sharing a chamber with thirty plus females meant there was always some sort of chatter going on.

A noise captured her attention, and she peeked through the door to see Heliodore wandering to the galley, er, kitchen. Her mouth went dry at the sight of bare skin and rippling muscles.

Had she called him impressive? That was an understatement. So bland a word, really. He was much more than that.

Daeja bit back an appreciative sigh as he reached into the tall box where rations were kept cold and pulled out a bottle full of liquid. She couldn’t have moved if her life depended on it.