The honor of deceit star.., p.1
The Honor of Deceit (Starhawke Rising Book 3), page 1
The Honor of Deceit
Starhawke Rising
Audrey Sharpe
THE HONOR OF DECEIT
Copyright © 2018 by Audrey Sharpe
ISBN: 978-1-946759-04-7
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Ocean Dance Press, PO Box 69901, Oro Valley AZ 85737
Cover Art by Significant Cover
Visit the author’s website: AudreySharpe.com
To E.G. and R.C., my guiding lights at the crossroads.
You are in my heart, always.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
Chapter 68
Chapter 69
Chapter 70
Chapter 71
Chapter 72
Chapter 73
Chapter 74
Chapter 75
Chapter 76
Chapter 77
Chapter 78
Chapter 79
Chapter 80
Chapter 81
Chapter 82
Chapter 83
Chapter 84
Chapter 85
Chapter 86
Chapter 87
Chapter 88
Chapter 89
Chapter 90
Chapter 91
Chapter 92
Chapter 93
Chapter 94
Chapter 95
Chapter 96
Chapter 97
Chapter 98
Chapter 99
Captain’s Log
Also by Audrey Sharpe
About the Author
Chapter One
The soft mewl of a muffled sob jerked Aurora Hawke out of dreamland and dropped her onto her bed with a thump.
Her small fists clutched her pillow in a death grip, her neck and shoulders bunched by her ears. Her breath hitched in and out of her raw throat and her tummy filled with rocks.
Turning her head, she stared into the gloom of her bedroom. A breeze blew in through the open window, brushing her wet cheeks. She shivered.
Letting go of the pillow, she curled into a ball, wrapped her arms around her legs and summoned the warmth. The warmth would make the bad feelings go away. It always did.
But her throat and tummy didn’t get better. They got worse.
She let go, sliding to the edge of the bed and dropping to the floor with a thud-thud. Her nightgown brushed her legs as she crept over to My-a’s bed.
My-a would know what to do. My-a would help her.
But the bed was empty. My-a wasn’t there.
Her heart skipped. She glanced around the dark room, the rocks in her tummy getting heavier. Where was My-a? Why wasn’t My-a here?
Her breath caught in her throat. She had to find My-a.
Stumbling to the door she grabbed the handle and pulled. Light flooded in from the hallway and voices drifted up from downstairs. Mommy and Daddy’s voices. Maybe My-a was with them? But she couldn’t see them. The wall was too high.
She ran to the stairs and scrambled down, stopping on the first landing when she saw Mommy and Daddy standing in the center of the main room. But something was wrong. Mommy was crying. Why was Mommy crying?
Daddy turned toward the stairs, and Aurora spotted My-a beside him.
“My-a!” Aurora started down the stairs.
“Aurora. No!” Mommy’s words shot at her like arrows.
Aurora stopped. She hadn’t done anything bad, had she? She shuffled her feet. “Mommy?”
“Stay there, Aurora.” Mommy’s face was twisted up and her eyes were wet.
What was wrong with Mommy? And why wasn’t Daddy helping? He always knew how to make her laugh when she was sad. Instead, he looked very serious. Why wasn’t he making her laugh? “Daddy?”
“Listen to your mother, Aurora.”
Daddy’s eyes looked wet, too. And his voice was wrong—like a frog.
Daddy put his arm around Mommy and squeezed her tight. So tight.
The rocks in Aurora’s tummy got bigger. She started to shake. “My-a?”
My-a peered at her around Daddy.
Aurora wanted to go to My-a. My-a would make her tummy and throat feel better. But Mommy and Daddy had told her to stay put.
Daddy let go of Mommy and took My-a’s hand in his. After a long look at Aurora, he turned away from the stairs and walked to the front door, taking My-a with him.
A rushing sound filled Aurora’s ears. Daddy and My-a were leaving! She forgot about Mommy and Daddy’s words. She forgot about the ache in her throat and tummy. She forgot about everything except getting to My-a.
“My-a!” She raced down the stairs. She didn’t care if she fell. The warmth would protect her.
But when her feet touched the floor, strong arms came around her from behind, holding her back.
“No, Aurora.” A familiar voice. A soothing voice.
But she didn’t listen. She struggled to get free. “My-a! My-a!”
“Ror!” My-a fought too, pulling against Daddy’s arm. But Daddy scooped up My-a and kept walking.
Aurora kicked and punched, but the arms holding her didn’t let go.
My-a twisted toward her as Daddy opened the door. “Ror!” But Daddy didn’t stop. Didn’t even look back. The door closed behind them. They were gone.
Heat burned through her like the sun, surrounding her, making her strong. She shoved outward with a screech, clawing her way to freedom.
But a wave of cold blocked the heat, breaking it apart like tissue paper.
She swung around, ready to launch another attack. And met Mya’s brown-eyed gaze.
“It’s okay, Aurora.” Mya stroked Aurora’s hair, her touch soothing, calming. “It’s going to be okay.”
Aurora’s head swam as she dragged her gaze away from Mya and stared at the closed door.
“It’s okay, Aurora,” Mya repeated, pulling her close. Her voice was changing, growing deeper as she repeated the phrase over and over.
Aurora barely heard her. If Mya was the one holding her, then who had walked through the door?
Aurora opened her eyes. Every muscle in her body was clenched, from her curled toes to her tight jaw. Her hands were latched onto the strong arms that held her close.
She blinked and focused. Not feminine arms. Masculine arms, corded with muscle and sprinkled with blonde hair.
“It’s okay, Aurora,” a male voice said.
She came into the present with a rush. Cade.
She wasn’t a child anymore. She was on the Starhawke. Her ship. In her cabin. With Cade. She looked over her shoulder.
His green eyes clouded with worry. “Hey, there.” He brushed her hair back from her face. “You okay?”
She closed her eyes and drew in a shuddering breath. “Only a dream.” But even as she said the words, she didn’t believe it. It hadn’t felt like a dream. It felt like a memory.
“Must have been a bad dream.” Cade continued the soothing caress. “Why did you call out Mya’s name?”
She cracked open one eye and peered at him. “I said that out loud?”
The low light from the bedside lamp created a halo around his tousled blond hair. He must have turned the lamp on when he’d realized she was having a nightmare. “Yes, you did. A couple times.” His brows drew together. “I was afraid to wake you, though. I didn’t want to startle you.”
No worries, there. The dream had already wound her up. She relaxed her death grip on his arms. “Thanks for watching out for me.”
The corner of his lip turned up. “You’re welcome.”
The tension in her muscles eased as he gathered her close. She’d never met anyone whose presence comforted her the way Cade’s did.
His voice rumbled next to her ear. “What were you dreaming about?”
“My family. My mom and dad. And Mya.”
“Your dad? Really? I didn’t think you even remembered him.”
“I don’t. At least, not consciously. I was still a toddler when he died.” She paused as the significance of what she’d said sank in. “I think that’s about how old I was in the dream.”
“Huh.” He twined his fingers through hers. “What happened in this dream?”
“I was at home. It was nighttime. I saw my parents standing in the main room, hugging. They were acting like they were saying goodbye to each other. But when I tried to reach them, they both told me to stay put.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. And then my dad left, taking Mya with him.”
“He took her away from you? That would be scary. No wonder you were calling out for her.”
“Yeah. But that’s where it got weird.” She tilted her face so she could see his expression. “Someone was holding me back, keeping me from reaching my dad or Mya. But when I looked up, it was Mya.”
His brows lifted. “That’s a twist. So she was both the one being taken away and the one holding you back?”
Aurora nodded.
“Interesting paradox.” He traced the curve of her cheek with his finger. “Although it’s not surprising that your subconscious would be popping out some strange connections, after all you’ve been through.”
He didn’t need to elaborate. They’d both been leaping over hurdles left and right for months.
“I suppose. The part about my dad leaving I certainly get. It’s how a two-year-old would interpret the death of a parent—that he left and never came back. And my mom not wanting me to go to him makes sense, too.” She mentally worked her way through the dream. “She never wanted to talk about my dad or what happened to him. So, her stopping me from getting close to him fits.”
“But what about the paradox with Mya? She’s never left you, has she? Or held you back, either.”
Aurora sifted through the contradictions, looking for clues. “The part where she was holding me back might have been in response to you, actually.”
“Because you think I’m holding you back?”
He said it in a teasing tone, but she detected the current of unease that came with it. Their relationship was still new. He wasn’t the only one with doubts about where they stood.
She turned in his arms and placed her hands on his chest. His very warm, very sculpted chest. “Never.”
He trailed his fingertips down her neck. “Good.”
“But you were holding me here, in the present, and my brain must have integrated that into the dream. That felt very real.”
“Makes sense.”
“So that just leaves the part about my dad taking Mya away.” She chewed on her lower lip. In the dream, she hadn’t been able to picture either of them distinctly. Her dad had been a shadowy figure. She’d felt him more than she’d seen him. And while she could replay Mya’s actions like she was watching a movie, she couldn’t describe what Mya had looked like. Except for one strange detail. “Mya was too young.”
“Too young? How so?”
“In the dream, my dad picked her up and carried her. She couldn’t have been more than four or five. But I never knew her when she was that age. She was six when I was born.”
“What about when she was the one holding you back? How old did she look then?”
Aurora closed her eyes and concentrated, trying to pull up the fragments that were scattering like leaves on the breeze. “Older. At least eight or nine. She looked the way I remember her. Her face was framed by the…” She trailed off as a missing piece settled into place.
“By what?”
She met his gaze. “Her energy field was engaged. And so was mine.”
“In the dream? Why?”
“I was angry. Furious, really. And she was trying to calm me down. When I was a kid, Mya always got called in whenever I threw a tantrum. My mom and I would butt heads all the time, but Mya was my rock.”
“Which explains why she was the one trying to soothe you in the dream.” He nestled her head under his chin, his hands stroking her back. “Sounds like you’re feeling vulnerable. The prospect of confronting your mom about your past may be triggering some deep fears.”
“It’s definitely given me things to think about.” Like how she was going to convince her mom to tell her the real story of what had happened to their homeworld forty years ago.
“Are you worried?”
“A little. She’s never wanted to talk about it. Stonewalled me every time. And I haven’t figured out a new plan, other than showing up unannounced to catch her off guard.”
“You’ll find a way. Remember, you’re not a little girl anymore. You’re a strong, capable woman. The captain of a starship. And the guardian of the Suulh.” He was silent for a moment. “Are you sure you don’t want me to go with you?”
“I’m sure.” She sighed. “Explaining how we ended up back together would only complicate things.”
He grunted. “I’m not exactly your mom’s favorite person.”
“True.” She placed a kiss on his neck. “But you’re one of mine.”
“Thank you.”
She followed the kiss with a nip, eliciting a rumble that was somewhere between a purr and a moan. “And I’ll have Mya with me.” As well as Kire and Jonarel. But she wasn’t about to bring Jonarel’s name into the discussion.
Cade tilted her chin up and brushed his lips across hers, sending shivers of sensation racing along her nerve endings. “What happens if you need to blow off steam afterward? I won’t be there to help you.” The heat building in his eyes left no doubt as to what kind of help he was referring to.
The last time she’d needed that kind of assistance, Cade had been happy to supply it—in a panoply of pleasurable ways. That night had changed everything.
She cradled his face in her palms. “You’ll only be a call away. And I’ll see you when we return.” She traced the curve of his bottom lip with her thumb, and his eyes darkened. “You’ll be busy at Council HQ tracking down leads on the Admiral’s disappearance. He needs your help too, you know.” And that thought made a different kind of tension curl in her belly.
His hands settled on her hips and upper back, pulling her flush against his chest. “Hey. Don’t you start worrying about the Admiral. You have enough on your plate. Locating the Admiral is my job.”
“I know. But—”
“Uh-uh.” He tightened his grip. “No arguments.”
“But—”
He silenced her with a kiss, coaxing her lips apart with a deft touch that turned her inside out.
She was breathing hard by the time he released her. She gazed into his eyes. “Cocky man. You think you can make me forget about the Admiral, don’t you?”
