by Celia Kyle
This has happened every single time I’m in her presence. From the very first moment we met, now, and every time in between.
My heart races. My palms sweat. My throat is unable to work.
I’ve tried to talk to her like a normal sapient being. I’ve tried to ignore her.
Nothing works.
My body tells me she’s my jalshagar. I’ve never felt like this before around anyone. I wouldn’t even know about what this felt like if I hadn’t unearthed some ancient religious texts taught to all Kilgari males when they first begin their education.
In a fit of pique last week, I loaned her my holovid projector. I had the intention of asking if she had ever watched Kilgari drama and, if not, if she would want to.
But my throat constricted after handing her my projector.
She took it as a gift… and watched Fenix Black music videos instead. I had thought Kilgari dramas with tales of males meeting their jalshagar would strike something in her—considering I was at a loss for what to do.
Instead the end result was her watching a scantily clad human pop star jumping around a stage.
A curse upon the Precursors...
“Grantian?”
“I’m fine,” I reply, even though that’s an absolute lie. Then, like a complete idiot, I point at myself with one thumb. “Always ready to rock.”
She giggles.
“I’ve heard you used to be a mercenary,” she continues in that curious tone of hers. I actually have to take a deep breath so I can focus on what she’s saying. What the hell’s wrong with me? Is my brain short-circuiting? “Is that some sort of goofy saying you learned?”
“My mercenary life was a lifetime ago.”
Thank the Precursors I’m able to get through a whole sentence.
My tone is clipped, if not rude, and I have to resist the urge to smack myself on the forehead. The more I look at her, the more my brain seems to overheat, all my neurons frying. Is this what Solair went through with Varia?
Needing something to focus on, I look away from Lamira and point toward the woman in the pod. “Are her vitals stable?”
“Stable, but not stellar,” the second woman, the one in the lab coat, replies. “Her heart rate has steadied, but her system received a shock. We have to keep an eye on her. Cryostasis is a delicate process, and in her case, it didn’t happen like it should have. Far from it.” She continues to explain the technical intricacies of what happened, but if I’m being honest, I’m no longer paying any attention to her words. Lamira is standing right beside me, her arm brushing against mine, and that’s enough to keep my brain busy.
Biting on the inside of my cheeks, I try to keep my composure as her scent coils itself around my thoughts. It’s delicate and feminine, and it hits all the right notes. It makes me want to pull her against my body, all just so I can breathe it in while losing my fingers in her dark brown hair. It’s an overpowering feeling, and it only makes the truth more obvious.
It shouldn’t be possible, but it seems like I’ve found my mate.
I’ve never given too much thought to the fated mates principle inscribed on the Elder Scrolls of Kilgar, at least not before Solar and Varia joined, but apparently there’s some truth to them. There has to be. I’ve been all over the galaxy and I’ve never met a woman who elicited such a response from me. Either the Elder Scrolls of Kilgar are right, or these women are intergalactic sorcerers sent here to bewitch us.
“Grantian,” Solair calls, raising his voice loudly enough for me to know it’s not the first time. “Did you hear what I just said? Ever heard of a place called Solace?”
“Solace?” I repeat, finally putting some space between Lamira and me. Walking toward the far end of the room, I join Solair next to one of the terminals, a blue-colored holographic map of the sector floating in front of us. “The name doesn’t ring any bells.”
“I was hoping you’d heard of it during your time in the Hael Hounds,” he mutters, more to himself than to me. With both hands on his hips and a serious expression on his face, he keeps staring at the holographic map as the terminal conducts its search. Soon enough a small message appears below the map, announcing that there are no records for a location called Solace.
“Never heard of it,” I shrug. “Is it important?”
“The woman from the pod woke up and screamed out that she didn’t want to return to Solace, wherever that might be,” Solair replies. Pursing his lips, he shuts the terminal down and shakes his head. “She sounded scared.”
“Not a good omen.”
“Not at all,” he whispers, and I notice him sneaking a glance at Varia. She’s visibly shaken by the whole ordeal, and I can’t really blame her. She crawled out of a cryopod herself before we came across her ragtag group and she’s probably thinking the same could’ve happened to her. “See if they need anything, Grantian. I’m going to head into the bridge before Swipt and Montier kill each other.”
Before I have the chance to say anything, Solair turns on his heel and marches out of the room, leaving me alone with the three women. Not really knowing what to do, I merely clear my throat and shift my weight from one foot to the other.
“So, the Hael Hounds?” Materializing beside me, Lamira looks up into my eyes once more. “Is it true what they say about them?”
“Depends on who you ask,” I tell her, suddenly feeling the urge to bolt from the room. I want to remain close to her, to get to know her, but a part of me wants to run away from here. Suffice to say, I’m not equipped to handle any of this mating bond nonsense. I’d rather dismantle and reassemble a thousand high-caliber rifles than have to face the fact that I’ve just found my mate. “But, yes, I was part of the Hael Hounds. It’s not as glamorous as most people think it is. You see a lot of shit that can’t be unseen.”
“I’ve never really known a mercenary before.”
“We’re just like any other living sapient,” I say with a smirk. “Except maybe we like to party a bit harder.”
She laughs. It’s glorious. “I guess I’m realizing I’ve lived a sheltered life up till now.”
“Where did you live before this?”
“I was arrested by IHC Security on Erebus while out shopping with Varia. But before that, I lived on Titanus Vox where I was born, right outside the city of Daystrom. I’d never been off-world until I left for Erebus when my aunt needed my help raising her kids.”
“You never ventured out of human space then?”
“I didn’t even want to venture off planet. Titanus Vox and Erebus were… comfortable. And all you hear on the holoscreens is about the war this and the war that. Especially since the IHC got involved.”
“The war has been good to the Hael Hounds.”
“I bet. But I guess a part of me wanted to shut out the galaxy and just live my life.”
“Sometimes the only way to get through the horrors of my life has been to cut myself away from the galaxy.” I’m somber, thinking back to the countless missions the Hael Hounds exposed me to.
“I can imagine,” she whispers softly, and then she subconsciously drags her teeth over her bottom lip. I don’t know what’s going through her head, but something tells me she isn’t completely oblivious to the fact that she’s my mate. Humans might not be as sensitive to the mating bond as the Kilgari are, but I’m pretty sure she’s noticed something.
“Grantian, get your ass up here,” my comms unit suddenly comes alive with Swipt’s voice coming out of it. “Your damn terminal is acting up again.”
“Never a moment’s rest. Right?” she asks me, and I reply with an awkward nod. “I should get her out of here as well,” she continues, discreetly pointing her chin at Varia. She’s staring at the comatose woman so intently you’d think she’s trying to drag her back to consciousness with the strength of her gaze. “See you around, Grantian.”
“See you around,” I repeat, requiring a mighty effort to push those words up my throat. As she turns around to join Varia, I draw one deep breath and
shake my head. This woman doesn’t know yet, but she’s about to turn my life upside down.
Is that a good thing or a bad thing?
I have no fucking idea.
Chapter Three
Lamira
“They should be in here somewhere.” Sprawled on the floor of my bunk room, I reach for a plastic container tucked underneath my bed. Sitting up, I pop the lid out and remove a couple of blankets from inside it. They’re a bit ratty, but I figure they should be enough. “It’s not much, but I think—”
“These will do.” Taking the blankets from my hands, Varia lays them out on the bed and starts folding them neatly. As she does it, I grab a couple of my own clothes and throw them into the pile. I’m not entirely sure what good clothes and blankets will be to a woman who’s in a coma, but I figure they shouldn’t hurt. She might be unconscious, but she’s not dead yet.
Sitting on the mattress, I watch as Varia keeps folding whatever’s in front of her with mechanical movements. Her eyes are set on the fabric, the creases on her forehead have deepened, and tension has seeped into her whole body. Even her eyes seem to have gone lifeless, that ever-present spark of defiance now snuffed out.
Not that I’m surprised. She serves as a liaison between the Kilgari and the humans, and she’s been spending every waking hour looking after every single one of us. On some level, I know she feels responsible for what happened in the medbay, even though it’s not even remotely her fault.
“Hey.” Standing up, I lay one hand on her shoulder and give it a gentle squeeze. “It’s going to be alright. Nicari is looking after that girl, and he knows what he’s doing. Thrase is down there helping. The girl will pull through.”
“We don’t know that,” Varia says finally, folding a shirt and throwing it on top of the blankets. She stares at her empty hands for a second, as if she has no idea what to do with them, and then sits down on the bed. “We don’t even know her name, for Mother’s sake. I tried looking in the Frontier for a manifesto, or a list of names, or something… but I didn’t find anything.”
“And that’s not your fault,” I tell her in a soothing tone. “What happened aboard the Frontier, this whole thing with the cryopod… none of this is your fault, Varia. You know that. Don’t you? If anything, you got us here.”
Looking away from her hands, she gives me a sad smile.
“That’s not true. The Kilgari—”
“Never mind the Kilgari,” I cut her short. “If it weren’t for you, we would’ve never survived that cargo hold.” Laying my hand on top of hers, I look into her eyes and smile. “Trust me. I was there.”
“You’re a good friend, Lamira.”
“A good friend?” I repeat in a purposefully high-pitched, nasal tone. “Girl don’t give me that crap. I’m the best friend.” Finally, a genuine smile spreads across her lips. “Now, what do you say we go find Ilya? She can take a look at the pod, and maybe she’ll be able to figure out why it short-circuited.”
“Now that’s a good idea,” she says, jumping up to her feet so fast I’d think she was sitting on top of coiled springs. That’s the Varia I know. We’re already on our way to the doors when they slide open to reveal a tall Kilgari, his horns almost touching the doorway. He’s wearing a black shirt that delineates the contour of his hard pectorals almost too perfectly, and he has a handgun tucked into his large soldier’s belt.
It takes me a second before I realize I’m once again staring at Grantian, but once I do, my heart does a somersault inside my chest. I don’t know what it is about this Kilgari, but his presence has a real effect on my body.
“Solair has requested your presence back on the bridge,” he says, all of his attention on Varia.
She arches her eyebrows, surprised. “He could have signaled on my comm.”
He smiles sardonically. “You left it with him.”
“Now why would I do that?” She smiles, as if caught.
“Take care of these. Will you?” she asks me as she hands me the blankets she’s holding. A thin conspiratorial smile takes over her lips, and then she gives me a wink. Just like I did a few weeks back, right when I saw her sneak out of the dining room with Solair. She must have noticed the electricity crackling under my skin whenever I’m in the same room as Grantian. Without saying anything else, she squeezes herself past him and punches the panel on her way out, closing the door behind her.
For a moment, neither of us say a thing. We just stand there, staring at each other like two complete idiots. The blankets in my arms make me feel even more ridiculous.
Clearing his throat, Grantian takes one step forward.
“So, uh, is Varia feeling better?” he finally asks, and I can’t help but notice some uncertainty in his deep voice. Even as a veteran of a thousand battles and an ex-member of the fabled Hael Hounds, he sure as hell doesn’t look comfortable right now.
Unfortunately, the same is true of me. I’ve never had to deal with such a magnetic pull before, and I’m at a loss on what I should do. Part of me wants to jump him, but I figure that wouldn’t be the polite thing to do.
“I think so, yeah,” I reply. Instead of coming out with the perfect feminine cadence, my words come out as a frog-like croak. I clear my throat, warm blood rushing to my cheeks, and only then do I regain my normal voice. “She has a lot on her mind, you know? What happened in the medbay… she feels responsible for that woman.”
“I see.” Nodding slightly, he keeps looking at me as if he expected me to keep talking. Apparently, conversation isn’t his strong suit. I bite on the corner of my bottom lip nervously, wondering what I should say to keep the conversation going, when he suddenly decides to continue. “What about you? How are you holding up?”
His question feels like a gut punch.
I’m always so preoccupied with Varia, doing whatever little things I can to ease her burden, that I’ve never stopped to think about how I was holding up. In a way, I gave Varia all of my focus just so I didn’t have to look inward and face the monsters hiding in the corners of my mind.
“Lamira?” he asks once more. “Are you alright?”
I open my mouth to say something but just end up just closing it again. I have no idea how to answer his question. It’s a simple one, but I’ve never stopped to think of an answer to it. Pinching the bridge of my nose, I close my eyes and breath in deeply.
“I… I don’t know,” I finally manage to say, looking down at my feet as I push the words out.
I used to be a simple, normal girl with a simple, normal life. I wasn’t a hero, but I wasn’t a villain either. I went to high school and then college and got a degree in Ancient Earth Literature from the years 1500 to 2000 AD.
I paid my taxes and always got to my job on time. It may have been a silly job, editing a magazine, but I loved it.
I always took care of my friends, went out on Friday nights with the girls, and occasionally ventured out on Saturday if someone asked me out. No serious boyfriends on Titanus Vox, but basically because I was enjoying being single.
When my aunt asked me to help her, I even left my cozy life on Titanus Vox and moved across the IHC.
Now, somehow, I’m a wanted criminal throughout the galaxy, wandering through the quadrant in a smuggler’s ship. I’m stuck in the middle of nowhere, cut off from all humanity and everyone I love, and I can’t really see a light at the end of the tunnel.
But I can’t tell him that. Can I? Pursing my lips together, I use whatever strength I have left and put it all behind a lie. “I’m fine. Really.”
“It doesn’t look like it.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’re crying.”
Oh, shit—he’s right. I really am crying.
Chapter Four
Grantian
In the Hael Hounds, we had standard operating procedures for everything. Sure, nobody really gave a flying fuck about what the manual said, but it was comforting to know that some military nerd had thought of a solution for every situation a s
oldier could face. Now, as I rummage through whatever I remember of those operating procedures, I realize nobody ever taught me how to handle a crying woman.
I shift my weight from one leg to the other, watching as Lamira tosses the blankets aside and buries her face in her hands. A violent sob shakes her entire body, and she turns around to sit on one of the bunks. The sound of her low crying makes me feel as nervous as if I were about to breach a Coalition’s warship. What the fuck am I supposed to do here?
Gritting my teeth, I walk toward her and pat the top of her head gently.
“There, there,” I whisper, feeling like a complete idiot. “It’s fine.”
Straightening her back, she looks up at me with her wide and curious eyes, the gray in them beckoning me. Tears keep rolling down her face and, reacting on pure instinct, I grab my shirt and rip off a strip of the fabric. Kneeling down, I press it into her hands.
“You’re not very good at this. Are you?” She releases a slight little laugh, wiping the tears off her face. I watch her do it, her closeness calming me down. I might not be great at this “crying woman” business, but I think I’ve managed to stop her tears from coming. A small victory, but a victory, nonetheless. “Thank you.”
“There’s no need to thank me.” Sitting beside her, I slap her back amicably. She almost falls out of the bunk after I do it, and I have to hold her by the arm to stop her from tumbling. “Sorry. I keep forgetting women aren’t as strongly built as we are.”
“I’ve noticed.” Her face lights up as she smiles. I’ve seen some crazy shit all over the galaxy, but nothing that compares to this. I’d already noticed the way her dark chocolate hair frames her face’s delicate features and the way her wide eyes always burn with deep-seated curiosity, but I wasn’t ready for a smile like this. It floods me with feelings I barely want to acknowledge yet can’t seem to bury deeply enough.