Chapter Twenty-Three
Adalard hugged Samara when she swayed. His curse echoed with the hum of machinery in the transporter room and the cheerful banter of his crew. He had forgotten the disorientation that often happened the first time someone transported.
Samara gripped his arm, breathed deeply, and looked around the room with wide, wary eyes. She pressed against him when one of the transporter room techs walked up to the edge of the platform. He murmured for the man to take Samara’s luggage to his quarters.
“I was beginning to wonder if you were going to return,” Ha’ven drawled.
Adalard grinned. “Samara needed help packing.”
Ha’ven lifted an eyebrow as the tech walked by him carrying a suitcase in each hand. “Yes, I can see how that would take a while,” he dryly remarked.
Adalard ig
