Star Chasers by Viola Grace

Author:Viola Grace [Grace, Viola]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: eXtasy Books Inc
Published: 2018-09-07T05:00:00+00:00

* * * *

Outside of the giant’s rooms, Verda stepped aside, letting Val walk past her. Though burdened with laundry, he’d move faster than she. Stooping, she picked up the buckets full of brushes and rags and hobbled down the corridor to the supply closets.

Housework wasn’t her job. Her body wasn’t suited to labor. Oddly, the royals hated a cripple clattering around their private spaces, tending to their private needs. She supposed it was strangely uncomfortable for them to view imperfection. She wished it was guilt they felt, but that would be overly optimistic. They knew no guilt.

She leaned against the wall for a brief, forbidden moment, her hand resting over the center of her chest. Her heart raced, and her breath came fast. She’d seen him! Right there, just yards away, and he was as big, beautiful, and vibrant as she’d been told. He moved like a beast... not like a great, lumbering animal, but smoothly, so swiftly that it was hard to track the tiny movements that telegraphed his intent. And she relied heavily on such cues to manage her survival. He was dangerous in his stealth, and in his beauty.

She pushed off the wall and hobbled down the corridor, automatically smoothing her expression, careful not to betray the agony that accompanied every step. She folded her hands, cast her eyes to the floor and did her best to blend into her surroundings. The residences weren’t her normal territory. She usually stayed to the web of corridors leading from the archives to the research library, and up to the royal residence. When she was lucky, one of the small, personal shuttles was at her disposal. Today, she was denied such assistance. She was being punished. She wasn’t sure why. Maybe she hadn’t bowed low enough or effaced herself to some royal’s satisfaction. She didn’t care. It would soon end.

She averted her mind from the pain by imagining the powerful warrior she’d encountered. She’d never seen him fight... not in person. Such entertainments were forbidden to her. But in the city, his image was displayed in shop windows, and moving vid captured some of his more notorious moves. Great leaps through the air, twisting rolls, and near-suicidal attacks. Training manuals bristled with statistics and drawings, all promising to unlock the mystery of his fighting style. Gossip sheets speculated about his lovers, his fortune, and rather breathlessly speculated about the fate of his upcoming contract. Would he sign again? Would he travel off into space, to his mysterious home on a distant planet?

Brock Uhern was a fantasy, a hero. He was nearly a legend, and as she’d seen, he was very, vividly real. And there was no mystery to his fighting style. He was simply a slightly different species of humanoid—he’d been raised in higher gravity than existed here. His body was large, his bones and tendons and sinews functioned to support his mass. She saw nodes on the outside of his forearms, indicating some sort of boney growth. He didn’t feast on raw flesh.

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