Ib’at, Bre’ol, and all the other Elots became animated then, asking all sorts of questions about what winter holidays on Earth entailed.
“Well,” said Marisol. “A lot of them involve trees.”
“What kind of trees?” asked Bre’ol.
“Big, bushy green ones. The kind that stay green even when it snows,” said Marisol, waving her hands about to show just how big and bushy said trees should be.
Ib’at leapt to his feet and fled from the ice structure.
Marisol pouted, her lower lip quivering. “Do you think I made him upset?”
“No,” said Bre’ol with a chuckle. “You shall see.”
The wind outside the structure howled, and a moment later, Ib’at appeared at the opening again, his arms weighted down with thick, evergreen boughs.
Marisol cried out and leapt to her feet, knocking over her cup of wine. The liquid spilled, staining the snow a deep shade of purple.
“I can’t believe you have these!” Marisol cried out as she grabbed branches from Ib’at’s arms.
“We have them in the low places,” he said, “where the air is warmer.”
“There are warmer zones on this planet?” asked Ignis, his eyes drifting over to Clea. She smiled at him, knowing they were both thinking the same thing: Warmer zones meant more habitable places for the human women to live.
“Of course,” said Ib’at with a shrug, as if such a thing were obvious. He turned back to Marisol, the smile back on his face. “Now, what do we do with these?”
After the Elots and the Earth women festooned the ice structure with evergreen, Bre’ol asked, “What else would you expect to see at a winter celebration on Earth?”
“Well,” said Veronica, speaking for the first time all night. “There would be presents and drinking . . .”
“Both of which you Elots have already supplied,” said Sarah with a giggle.
“Here, here!” said Ignis with a smile as he lifted his cup in solute. The whole room drank then, even Clea. The cool liquid slid down her throat, warming her blood instantly.
“Anything else?” asked Ib’at as he slid closer to Marisol.
The Earth women all started to talk at once.
“There would be ice skating . . .”
“Oh! And hot chocolate!” cried Eliza a she cuddled closer to Consus.
The women all groaned at the mention of chocolate.
“Singing and dancing, if you were into that thing.”
“If you were religious, you might go to church.”
“And the fireworks!” shrieked Clara, her eyes staring up at the sky as if random bursts might suddenly appear.
“What are fireworks?” asked Bre’ol.
“Wonderful, beautiful lights that fill the sky with all sorts of colors,” said Clara dreamily.
Ib’at and Bre’ol shared a look, both smiling.
“That sounds so foreign and strange,” said Ib’at as he winked at Bre’ol.
“Oh, the strangest thing we’ve heard all night, to be sure,” said Bre’ol.
“But there’s one thing about holidays on Earth that you Elots won’t be able to help us replicate,” said Miranda softly.
“I accept that challenge,” said Ib’at with a laugh. “Tell us, Miranda. What does your precious Earth have that we cannot give you here on T’lugot? Other than this famed chocolate?”
When Miranda spoke, her voice came out softly, and her eyes were shimmering. “Our families.”
The room fell into silence then, the weight of Miranda’s words weighing on them all like a stone.
Once again, Clea felt a pang of guilt at having her mate and her child when none of the other women had anyone at all. Mei and Lucius are getting close, as are Consus and Eliza, her mind whispered, trying to make her feel better. And Marisol and Ib’at seem to have taken to one another.
But there were still so many women who had no family save the others who had shared the same, horrible experience together on the Hub.
Clea cleared her throat and tried to put on a bright smile. “We have spent so much of tonight talking about the things from Earth that we miss. The traditions, the festivities. But if T’lugot is to be our home, I think we should start a new tradition. Right here, right now.”
Marisol sniffed, her cup of wine cradled to her chest. “What did you have in mind?”
“Well,” Clea said, fumbling for something that would be both meaningful and simple. And then it hit her. “I think we should each take a moment to say something we are thankful for. We’ve all been through so much, but you have to admit: we’re a whole fuck ton better than we were not too long ago.”
Ib’at leaned close to Marisol and whispered loudly, “What is a ‘fuck ton’?”
Marisol laughed into her cup of wine and swiped at her eyes. “I’ll tell you later.”
“I think it is a great idea,” said Miranda softly. “We can’t go back to Earth, and I think we’ve all come to terms with that in our own ways. But it would be nice to honor our time from before, by blending those old traditions with new ones of our making.”
“Indeed,” said Clara as she lifted her glass in a toast. Everyone drank again, and then Clara prompted, “Well then? Who’s going to start us off and tell us what they are thankful for.”
Each of the women took turns expressing their gratitude for the Elots’ and the Ardans’ assistance since the fall of the Hub. Just as Clea opened her mouth to speak, a voice interrupted her.
“I’m thankful Slep and the rest abducted us to begin with,” said Lila from the opening of the room. Her jumpsuit was nowhere to be seen; the shaggy, furry hide of some animal had been tied across shoulders. Nor’Ak stood beside her, his arm around her waist.
“How could you say such a thing?” asked Sarah, her voice low and sad. “What Galactic Continuity did to us . . . what all of those creatures did to us . . .” She shivered. “I would rather die than live through all that again.”
Murmurs of ascent rose from the group.
“But don’t you see?” asked Lila as she and Nor’Ak crossed the room to sit on an empty fur. “If we’d never been taken . . . if we hadn’t all lived through what we lived through, we would never have any idea about . . . Well. Any of this.”
Clea looked down at where Kyus lay on his back, his legs kicking away happily at Ignis’s hand. She reached out and grabbed one of his little feet, a wide grin spreading across her face when he giggled.
“Yes,” she said slowly. “I don’t know that I would want to live through any of it again, but I’m glad to be where I am now.”
“Me, too,” said Mei as she nestled under Lucius’s arm.
“Yeah,” said Marisol, smiling at Ib’at. “I guess things didn’t end up so bad in the end.”
“The end?” asked Nor’Ak as he rose to his feet, pulling Lila up with him. “The day is just starting, friends. Let us take you beyond these walls and show you a T’lugot sunrise.”
Everyone shambled to their feet, leaning on one another and laughing as they stumbled out into the frigid air beyond the ice structure. His arm around Marisol, Ib’at turned back to wink at Bre’ol.
As the women stepped beyond the tall walls of ice, they began gasping in excitement. Clea grabbed Kyus, and she and Ignis went out to see what the commotion was about.
Her eyes widened as she looked at the horizon. The azure glow of morning was just starting to brighten the sky, but in the space where the sky met the tundra, streams of color danced through the air. Cool blues and bright pinks, rich greens and fierce reds, all shifting and moving together across the sky.
Clea squeezed Kyus closer, tears pricking at her eyes as she watched the Earth women and the aliens all embrace one another. Someone dragged out the Elot lyre again and began plucking at the strings. It didn’t take long for the women to start singing the song the snow creatures had taught them.
Ignis bent down and planted a kiss on Clea’s forehead. “You never did share what you are thankful for, my de
ar.”
Kyus squirmed against her chest, and the sight made Clea’s heart ache with happiness. She looked up at her mate as tears slipped down her chill cheeks. “I am thankful for you, Ignis. Always you.”
The Ardan’s lips softly brushed against hers as the first cobalt rays of the T’lugot sun burst past the horizon.
Other Works by Lula Monk
Available for purchase on Amazon
Galactic Seduction
Dredge: Galactic Seduction Book One
Ignis: Galactic Seduction Book Two
Tonx: Galactic Seduction Book Three
Petra: Galactic Seduction Book 3.5
Cyndar: Galactic Seduction Book Four
Arachne: Galactic Seduction Book Five
About Lula Monk
Lula Monk is a part-time author and full-time educator. She enjoys winter beaches, road trips, strange science facts, and cuddling up with a good book. Or a good tv series.
Her work is heavily influenced by her dual love of science and history. She is now working on multiple projects in various genres, including Paranormal Romance, Historical Fiction, Sci-Fi, Paranormal Mystery, and more.
She lives in the Deep South, and the flora and fauna of that region often make an appearance in her writing.
A Not So Lonely Christmas
Erin Raegan
All we need is a Christmas tree. Or, I want to believe that’s all we need.
I know things are bad. My baby and I are all alone. Every day could be our last. If starvation and freezing temperatures don’t take us, the carnivorous aliens roaming our world are sure to eventually.
But all I can do is get through the day. I tell myself the same thing every day.
But not today. It’s days before Christmas eve, and if it’s the last thing I ever do, I’m going to get my baby boy his first Christmas tree.
Today is the day I push past my despair and loneliness and make it the best first Christmas my boy could have.
And though that task is proving to be near impossible for me, it’s not for our furry protector. He hides himself from us, never speaking, never showing himself no matter how badly we want him to. Just guarding our woods. Watching and protecting from afar.
I don’t know it yet, but our protector is just as determined as me this Christmas.
Earth
Seven months ago, an alien species called the Vitat invaded the earth. They broke through the earth’s atmosphere and decimated the human population in moments. Their goal? Nothing but destruction––and the feeding of their endless appetites.
But the humans were not alone in their fight to regain control of their planet. Another alien invasion, this time by the Dahk and the Kilbus, came to their aid.
Now, humanity is surviving without the luxuries to which they had grown accustomed.
1
Delaney
“I don’t want a lot for Christmas,” I sang to the frozen trees. “Theeeere is just one thing I neeeed.” Riley gurgled at my singing, and I grinned at him. “I don’t care about the presents, underneeeath the Christmas tree.” I lifted him in my arms above my head, laughing as he sang his baby words above mine. “I just want you for my ooooown.”
Riley squealed and kicked his booted feet in the air as I hummed our song.
“All I waaant for Christmas is youuuuu,” I finished, laughing as he grabbed onto my cheeks, squishing them together.
“Come on, baby. We’re going to find our tree today. I can feel it.”
I walked deeper into the tangled brush, guarding Riley’s face from the jungle of prickly twigs. He burrowed deeper into my coat, and I knew we wouldn’t have much longer until he was ready for his nap. But I had a good feeling this time. Well, I’d had a similar feeling yesterday too––but today was different. I just knew it.
We’d been looking for our tree for the last two weeks but so far hadn’t had any luck––not one green tree on the whole property. But I wouldn’t give up. We didn’t have much these days, but Christmas Eve was tomorrow, and my baby would have his first Christmas tree if it was the last thing I did.
Unfortunately, a few days ago, we’d been hit with the worst blizzard I had ever experienced, and it made looking for one more difficult than I had planned. I tried not to think about the weather, though, these days. Things had been getting steadily worse since the alien Vitat ship had crash-landed on earth.
The earthquakes from the crash had been just the beginning. The massive alien ship was larger than most states, and although it had landed in the ocean, it caused a tsunami that had nearly wiped out the entire east coast. Since then, our summer had been the hottest I’d ever experienced in Montana. And now we were experiencing the worst winter I’d ever experienced.
Here in the mountains, thunderstorms now rocked us monthly, and apparently, the rest of the world was going to shit too. Before granddad had passed, he brought back news he’d seen or heard about in his travels. News of tornados and hurricanes that decimated cities and unexplainable solar winds that scorched the earth.
But I had my Riley, and it was just the two of us now. I had buried Grandad beside Mee-maw just last month. It had been a really hard few weeks after that.
We were pretty isolated out here in the cabin. And while we had enough food and water to last us nearly a year, thanks to Grandad, I’d had to do everything else on my own.
And let me tell you, chopping wood in freezing temperatures was no joke. It was brutal. And I was already not very good at, let alone trying to chop in the frigid cold. But if I didn’t do it, we would freeze. I had to take care of everything since Grandad had died from a heart attack. He had always babied me too much––Mee-maw had told him all the time. He spent so much time fixing the cabin up and storing supplies he hadn’t actually prepared me for his death. And I was all too willing to let him take care of me that I hadn’t ever actually considered the possibility that I would one day be on my own. But I wouldn’t let him down. He had been so afraid as he lay dying in my arms. Afraid for me. For Riley. So I told him the only thing I could––that I loved him, and that I had this. And I did. I had this.
And, more importantly, right now, I had finding-the-best-Christmas-tree in the bag. I looked around the bare trees with a shrewd eye. Any minute now, we would walk through a clearing, and it would be there, just waiting for us.
I blew warm air on Riley’s cheeks, pulling his hood around his face and hefting his chunky body higher up my chest.
He was a big boy––the one and only thing he got from his daddy. Because it certainly wasn’t from me. I was short. Short legs. Short torso. And skin and bones. I’d always had trouble keeping on weight, but now that I tried to stretch our meat stores, I was eating just twice a day. One day soon, I would have to try to hunt for us. But I’d never done that before. I had stayed in the kitchen with Mee-maw growing up while Grandad hunted with his buddies. I made a mean pie, but give me a bow and arrow, and I was useless.
The sun was going down, and I would need to head back before that happened. But we hadn’t searched this far out yet, and I just knew there would be a tree for us somewhere out here. There just had to be.
A twig broke behind us, and I looked into Riley’s sleepy eyes. I widened mine dramatically, grinning and holding a finger to my lips. He giggled, perking up and searching around for our friend.
We wouldn’t find him. We never did. He was really good at hiding. But it didn’t stop Riley and me from playing our favorite game. Riley pointed suddenly, and I spun around gasping dramatically. He laughed and slapped my shoulders, squealing with pleasure.
“Oh, you fooled me,” I growled, tickling his belly. He squealed and pointed again. I gasped once more with flair, twirling us around, but there was no one there. Just like always.
We continued to play this way as I wandered further into the woods, my boots soaking through. Every few feet, we would hear another sound or twig branch snap, and we would grin at each other. My baby was almost a year old and so smart.
> Riley knew our friend was following us just as surely as I did. He was watching us and protecting us from the monsters that now roamed our world freely. Grandad had been the first to suspect we had a protector. He had found the Vitat bodies buried in the woods––and he hadn’t put them there. Being the only people around for miles, Grandad had been worried someone would find us and take what we couldn’t afford to give. That whoever was hunting the Vitat would find us and take everything we had left.
But over time, we relaxed. The bodies continued to pile up. Our woods were quiet. But although the woods were now safer than they had been since the invasion, the one responsible never showed himself. At least not on purpose.
Riley and I were very good at hiding. We sometimes snuck out late at night to try and catch sight of him as he stalked the tree line, watching for any intruders.
At first, I had been afraid. The first time I really saw him, my body had frozen in terror. He was scary-looking. So very tall and bulky. He had dark brown hair running down the center of his head and hanging down his back. It was scraggly and in need of a good comb. His chest had a fine layer of the same colored hair. Thick and coarse like fur. His claws were long and as sharp as daggers. And he blended into the scenery so well that we would never have seen him if not for his glowing, feline eyes. They gave him away every night.
We were lucky my grandad hadn’t had very good eyesight. He would have shot him on sight for sure––the alien was a lot to take in. But he watched over us, and I knew he wouldn’t hurt us.
I had been content to leave him to his solitude. But that had been before Granddad passed. I’d been lonely lately, and I wouldn’t mind having someone taller than a baby to talk to.
And that was why we had a new plan. Riley and I were preparing a surprise, and I was hoping our friend liked it enough that he might come out of hiding.
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