Bassan’s cheeks grew warm and he shifted in his seat. “Sometimes.”
“Only a few,” his father said. “The Tgrens have been very accepting of the mixed race pairings.”
Bassan dropped his chin in embarrassment. His father’s position might ensure that he didn’t endure any teasing regarding his half-breed son. Bassan had not been so fortunate.
Piten c****d his head. “Ah, but are the Cassans just as accepting?”
“For the most part.”
Bassan raised his gaze. Piten stared at him as if waiting for Bassan to speak. When he didn’t, the Rogue’s knee dropped and he crossed his arms.
“It’s difficult for Rogues,” Piten said, still gazing at Bassan. “We don’t fit in with either of our parents’ races. My mother kept me hidden the first few years of my life. Cassans would’ve only seen the Vindicarn and vi
