Held by Luna Voss

7

Melyta

“So wait, now you do want to do the job?” Korva looks amused. “You want to make up your damn mind?”

“My mind is made up,” Barion tells him firmly, letting his friend into our apartment.

“Yeah? What changed?”

“Melyta,” he says simply, gesturing to me. “She wants to do it.”

“Wow,” says Korva, playing offended. “Doesn’t interest you at all when I suggest it. But one word from your vulta…”

“You should try asking him for things right after he knots you,” I say brightly, winking. “That usually works for me.”

“Thanks,” Korva replies with a grimace. “I was just hoping you would put that image in my head.”

“Moving on to the next topic,” Barion breaks in, shaking his head, “if we’re going to do this, we’re going to have to do it right. We can’t let anyone from the Agusto Family find out or Dagor is going to want a piece of the action. No one can know what we’re up to it until it’s too late for them to do anything about it.”

“And what exactly are we up to?” I ask. “You guys have both been pretty damn secretive about the whole thing. Something to do with stealing a bunch of ditrykium?”

“Better,” says Korva. “We’re going to be mining a bunch of ditrykium.”

“A whole planet’s worth, potentially,” Barion confirms.

I stare at them, trying to process this. Ditrykium is one of the rarest materials in the galaxy, fetching an incredible price on the open market. Even just the coordinates to a planet containing it would be ridiculously valuable.

“So… does that mean you know about a planet with ditrykium on it?”

Barion shakes his head. “No. But we know someone who does.”

I cock my head at him, not understanding.

“Most of the known planets with ditrykium are legally the property of the Rangasta Corporation,” he explains. “And they keep their coordinates closely under wraps.”

Then it clicks for me. “You not thinking of… involving Jenyta in this, are you?”

Both men glance at each other, then look at me.

“No,” I tell Barion, shaking my head. “That’s not fair to her.”

“She doesn’t have to do it if she doesn’t want to,” says my mate, shrugging. “It’s not like we’re going to force her. But she’s the piece of the puzzle that makes this thing work. We can’t do it without her help.”

“And what exactly is she going to get out of it?”

“A cut of the profits,” says Korva. “Enough to set her up for life, and then some.”

My mouth closes, even though my instinct is to continue to protest. I hate the idea of Jenyta getting pulled into Vostra business. But I know the opportunity to make that much money would be hard for her to turn down.

“You should have told me,” I mumble to Barion.

“I am telling you,” he says. “Right now.”

I sigh, shelving my misgivings for the moment. “Okay, let’s say she’s on board. How does this work?”

“Basically,” says my mate, “we need her to steal the coordinates for a ditrykium-rich planet from the Rangasta database, send them to us, and then delete the coordinates from their system. That way, we have the planet all to ourselves, and no one else even knows where to find it.”

“And what if someone stumbles across it?”

Korva grins. “The galaxy is a big place, and any planet with ditrykium in an even remotely populated system has already been bled dry. Whatever coordinates we get, it’s going to be in the middle of nowhere.”

“Okay, so we get the coordinates to a ditrykium-rich planet. How do we get the ditrykium out of the ground?”

“Well, that’s the complicated part,” Barion admits. “We’re also going to need to steal some mining equipment.”

“And a whole bunch of workers to operate that equipment,” I say.

He nods. “That’s correct. Korva has the right contacts for that. We’re also going to need a ship to transport those workers to and from the planet, and a pilot we can trust.”

I frown at him. “And where are we going to find a pi…”

Oh.

Barion just looks at me, eyebrows raised. “You were the one who wanted to do this, Mel.”

“I didn’t know it meant involving Jenyta!”

“Well, it does. Do you want to back out?”

“Fucking maybe!” I say angrily, raising my voice. I feel protective of my friend, and not at all pleased by the way I was blindsided with this. I put the glass of water I’m drinking down on the table angrily, causing it to spill.

Barion raises his eyebrows, and when he speaks, there’s a warning edge in his tone. “Mind yourself, vulta,” he hisses, leaning forward to deliver his words directly into my ear. “I don’t want to spank you while Korva is over, but I will if you can’t act right. No more of this from you. None.”

I snort. “Yeah, as though—”

He holds up a finger. “That’s one.”

“What do you mean, ‘that’s one?’” I practically shout.

He smirks. “That’s two. And unless you want a three, I would consider minding your manners.”

I glare at him, practically shaking with indignation. That absolute bastard. There’s no fucking way I’m going to let myself back down now.

“You’re fucking counting to three?” I snap, my tunnel vision allowing me to momentarily ignore Korva’s presence. “If you think you can—”

“That’s three,” Barion growls, standing up. “Upstairs, now. I’ll deal with you when I’m done talking to Korva.”

I can’t bring myself to look in the other vostrat’s direction, but I see out of the corner of my eye that he’s just sitting on the couch like nothing is going on, maddeningly unfazed by the entire exchange. In his world, this is normal.

And in my world, apparently, I just like to make things worse for myself. At least, that would explain why I so rarely back down in moments like this. It’s not enough for Barion to send me to my room. If he wants me to comply, he’s going to have to make me.

The way he’s fucking smirking at me, I promise you that’s the way this is going to have to go down.

“No,” I say, planting my feet. “Fuck you.”

His smirk becomes indignant. “Excuse me?”

“I’m not going.”

Barion glances at Korva, then looks back at me. “Is this really the way you want to play this, vulta?”

I blush, even as I set my jaw. Usually he doesn’t call me vulta in front of other people. That term has a very specific meaning in Vostra culture. It’s his way of not-so-subtly reminding me of my place. That he owns me. That his role means he gets to discipline me if he thinks I’ve earned it.

“Sorry about this,” he grunts to Korva. “Melyta and I are going to have to have a little talk in private.”

“No problem,” Korva replies, not a care in the world. “Shall I go home?”

Barion shrugs. “Up to you. If you don’t mind waiting, we shouldn’t be too long. I assure you, when we return, Melyta will be on her best behavior.”

My mate gives me a look, and I gulp. Barion’s nonchalance is making me nervous.

“Okay, vulta,” he says, emphasizing the word again. He grips my upper arm firmly. “Upstairs, now.”