1
" Eliana stepped into her room and turned to face him.
Anticipation usurped amusement’s place as Dagon stared down at her, waiting for her nightly hug.
Perhaps tonight he would linger and—
“Greetings, Eliana,” CC said in her serene voice.
Blinking, she glanced over her shoulder, then up at the ceiling. “Hi, CC.”
Dagon hid his amusement at her tendency to look up whenever she addressed the computer.
“You have one communication awaiting your attention,” CC announced.
Eliana looked at Dagon. “Is that like a phone message?”
He considered his translator’s definition of PHONE. “Yes.”
“Did YOU send it?”
“No.”
“Who did?”
A good question. Who on this ship believed they knew Eliana well enough to message her privately? His brows drew down. “I don’t know.”
“Maybe Anat has reconsidered giving me flight lessons.”
He stared at her. After Dagon, Anat was the most experienced and highest-ranked fighter pilot on the ship. Dagon knew that most of the men stationed on the RANASURA thought their commander grim and foreboding. But Dagon appeared downright ebullient when compared to Anat.
“You asked Anat to give you flight lessons?” To borrow one of Eliana’s Earth terms: that had been ballsy.
“Yes.” She wrinkled her nose. “But he said no. The other pilots warned me he’d refuse, but I figured I’d give it a try anyway.”
He tried to hold back his next question but failed. “Why didn’t you ask me?”
Her brow furrowed. “You mean ask your permission? Was I supposed to do that first?”
“No. Why didn’t you ask ME to give you flight lessons?” He understood her fierce drive to learn everything she possibly could that might aid her in the future but inwardly balked at the image of Eliana and Anat crowded together in a flight simulator.
“Oh. Because you’re . . . you know.” She motioned to his uniform. “The commander. You run the ship. You have more important things to do.” She nibbled her lower lip. “Aaaaand I didn’t want to wear out my welcome.”
Confused, he glanced down at the deck.
“Why are you looking at my boots?” she asked.
“According to my translator, WEAR OUT MY WELCOME means eroding through frequent use the surface of a mat with the word WELCOME printed on it that Earthlings place outside their doors.”
She grinned. “Your translator got it wrong. Wear out my welcome means . . .” She shrugged. “I don’t know. Make a nuisance of myself, I guess. I’ve already insinuated myself into a significant portion of your day, Dagon.” Her smile dimmed a bit as uncertainty crept into her features. “I didn’t want you to get tired of having me around all the time.”
So while he had sought any and every excuse to spend MORE time with her, she had worried he might want LESS? He took a step closer to her. “I believe the likelihood of that is nonexistent.”
Her eyes dilated as his shadow fell over her. “Really?” she asked softly.
“Really. "
― Dianne Duvall , The Segonian (Aldebarian Alliance, #2)
7
" Everything within him went still. “Segonian courtship rituals?” he repeated softly. “Why would you wish to know more about that?”
She sighed. “Because I couldn’t find anything about it in your informational databases, and I’ve been wanting to do this for a long time.” Reaching up, she rested her small hands on his stubbled cheeks, then rose onto her toes and drew him down for a kiss.
His heart stuttered to a halt, then began to slam against his ribs. The first gentle brush of her lips hit him like an electrical current. His breath caught. Hers did, too. She drew back a fraction to stare up at him with wide eyes that acquired an amber glow.
Then Dagon slid his arms around her and locked her against him. Dipping his head, he claimed her lips with greater urgency, letting her feel the heat that had been flaying him inside ever since she had walked onto his bridge, fully recovered from her wounds, and drawn him into a hug. "
― Dianne Duvall , The Segonian (Aldebarian Alliance, #2)
10
" Dagon left his office and made his way down to the infirmary.
Adaos looked up when he entered.
Eliana lay curled on her side, covered by a sheet. Though dark wavy tresses hid much of her face, she appeared to be sleeping deeply.
“She still rests,” Adaos murmured.
“Her injuries?”
“All damage to her skeletal system has healed completely. Some of the damage to her musculature and skin has as well. The damage to her organs is still repairing.”
“Did you give her a silna to accelerate her healing?” Even with the serum, it would take Segonian warriors longer to recuperate from such wounds.
Adaos shook his head. “A silna wasn’t necessary. Her ability to repair and regenerate rivals that of the Sectas with their nanodocs.”
“Amazing.” Dagon crouched next to the bed. Reaching out, he gently drew the hair back from Eliana’s face and tucked it behind her ear. “She’s too thin,” he whispered, noting the prominent cheekbones. Though the burns had healed, some of the cuts and bruising remained. “Did you provide her with sustenance before she fell asleep?”
“Yes. I also fed her fluids and nutrition intravenously.”
“She doesn’t like needles.”
“She slept through it.”
Eliana’s eyelashes fluttered. Her lids rose, revealing deep brown eyes bereft of the amber glow. She studied him a moment, then offered him a sleepy smile. One small hand burrowed out from under the covers and stretched toward him. Soft fingers came to rest on his cheek and stroked the stubble there. “Dagon.”
Warmth unfurled in his chest at the tender touch. His pulse picked up its pace. “Eliana. "
― Dianne Duvall , The Segonian (Aldebarian Alliance, #2)
12
" No one waited in line at the counter, thanks to Dagon and Eliana’s tardy entry.
“Morning, Kusgan,” she trilled when the elder Segonian stepped up to the counter.
Kusgan greeted her with a wide smile. “And how are you today, ni’má?”
“Hungry,” she declared. “What do you have for me? Something spicy, I hope?”
“Indeed.” When Kusgan turned his attention to Dagon, his eyes sparkled with amusement as though he had guessed just how and with whom she had worked up an appetite. “And for you, Commander?”
“The usual.”
His lips twitched. “A larger portion perhaps?”
Dagon laughed. “I would appreciate that, yes.”
Heat crept up her neck to her cheeks. As Kusgan turned away and headed into the kitchen, she leaned closer to Dagon and whispered, “Am I blushing? Because I feel like he’s guessed why I’m so hungry and you’re all smiles this morning.”
He regarded her cheeks with a grin. “Yes, you’re blushing.”
Groaning, she brought her hands up to cover her face. “Curse my pale skin,” she grumbled. “It won’t let me hide anything.”
“Would it make you feel better if Iblushed?”
She peeked up at him through her fingers. And as she watched, his cheeks flushed a vivid pink, demonstrating anew his ability to change his coloring at will.
Laughing in delight, she dropped her hands. “Yes!” Then she poked him in the chest as the heat in her own cheeks faded. “I dare you to walk around like that all day.”
Smiling, he abandoned the pink camouflage and let his face return to its natural color. “If I did, the men would get no work done because they’d all be too busy wondering what the srulyou did in bed that left me blushing for hours afterward.”
Eyes widening, she laughed. “You’re right. Don’t do it. "
― Dianne Duvall , The Segonian (Aldebarian Alliance, #2)
14
" Grenade, Eliana,” Dagon warned, his voice coming over the comm seconds before an e-grenade sailed past her shoulder.
It detonated as it hit the door.
Flames and sparks and hot air rushed toward her, but didn’t slow her at all as the grenade he’d lobbed blasted a substantial hole in the door.
“Thanks, babe,” she called as she dove through it.
A throat cleared. “Did she just call our commander babe?”
“Shut up,” Dagon retorted.
She laughed. “Would you prefer I call him sugarboo instead?”
“Srul, yes,” Maarev responded as snickers carried over the comm. "
― Dianne Duvall , The Segonian (Aldebarian Alliance, #2)
16
" His heart stuttered to a halt, then began to slam against his ribs. The first gentle brush of her lips hit him like an electrical current. His breath caught. Hers did, too. She drew back a fraction to stare up at him with wide eyes that acquired an amber glow.
Then Dagon slid his arms around her and locked her against him. Dipping his head, he claimed her lips with greater urgency, letting her feel the heat that had been flaying him inside ever since she had walked onto his bridge, fully recovered from her wounds, and drawn him into a hug.
Moaning, she parted her lips.
Dagon slipped his tongue inside to stroke hers, deepening the kiss, teasing and tantalizing until she inched even closer. "
― Dianne Duvall , The Segonian (Aldebarian Alliance, #2)
