by Naomi Lucas
She woke up again, another inordinate amount of time later. This time her body was being submerged in a pool of water, one she didn’t recognize. She tensed from toe to nose as she was slowly lowered in but when Galan and Sundamar’s reflection shifted over the clear water, it soothed her more than the water ever could.
“Please,” she rasped and clenched her eyes shut at the sound. What was that famous quote? Butter scraped over too much bread. She had never sounded so weak and when she tried to swallow this time around, little saliva formed in her mouth, causing her to cough.
“Er noum mana.” Sundamar sank into the water next to her, cupping her cheeks.
“Yahiro er noum,” Galan sighed heavily and came into view next. It took her that short amount of time to realize she could barely turn her head. “You can’t understand us anymore,” he said in perfect English. “Them,” he corrected.
Her hair swirled around her chin as she nodded slightly. “No, it’s broken.” Yahiro pointedly stared at where Galan had his translator piece still embedded in him.
He touched it and frowned. “Can we fix it?”
She mirrored his downturned lips. “I can’t...” Each word was an effort.
“Nothing at where you crashed?” Her lips thinned into a line. “Can I give you mine?”
“No.” It hurt so much to say it.
“Then we’ll teach you our language and you and I will teach them yours.” Galan sat back into the water and as both her valos came into view, she realized how dissimilar they looked. Lusheenn could’ve been Sundamar’s twin. Galan was rugged everywhere Sundamar was heroically handsome. She concentrated on them as they cleaned her body. Too afraid to look down at herself and find what was there, or what wasn’t.
But some hope bloomed in her heart. She now knew she wasn’t going to die, and that whatever had happened with Lusheenn had left her valos intact.
Yahiro let the numbing haze retake her as Sundamar and Galan massaged her wounds.
Where was Quist?
When she woke a third time it was because someone was choking and drowning her to death. She flailed in fear, knocking something hard with the back of her hand across the room and soaking the clothes over her body. Salty liquid came up as she gagged, attempting to breathe. The effort was excruciating.
“It’s okay. It’s okay. It’s me. It’s Galan.” The softened tone of his voice and his unending mantra found her.
Galan held an oval-shaped disk in his hand, half-filled with what she thought may be an alien version of broth. Her tongue ran around the edges of her mouth and the homey taste of warmth and seasoned salt hit her.
She sucked in a gasp. And it was easy. I can taste!
He looked at her warily as she tried out a smile. It didn’t hurt. “I feel...” Even her words flowed smoother.
“Healed?” He finished for her.
“Yes!”
Galan replaced the bowl she accidentally cast aside with a new serving of soup and she seized it from him greedily, drinking it down until her body couldn’t take anymore. When she was done he took it away.
“How long?” she asked.
His eyes hooded. “Too long. You’re weak, far weaker than us.”
Yahiro stiffened her back and finally looked down at her body. She wore a gossamer shift that revealed everything but that wasn’t what caught her eye; it was the tendrils of molten gold running in random patterns over her body, a splatter of it concentrated between her breasts.
Where it cracked. She was reminded of the stone and the weight came back. She pressed her fingers into her belly where the pressure was the worst and found it within moments. She dropped her hand away as if burned.
“What happened?” she asked after a long moment.
“You swallowed the heartstone.”
She knew that.
“—and the light it contained stopped spreading when you did.”
“Lusheenn?” Yahiro peered at him, uncertain all of the sudden that a god might walk in on them. An angry god. After dealing with William her whole life, she was done with any man or being of the sort. It didn’t stop her from fearing them.
“His forming never finished. What had come through destabilized and dissipated, lost in the first rays of sunlight that dawn.”
“Good.”
Galan’s countenance tensed. He looked down at his body where it was poised for attack. Yahiro shifted away from him warily.
“Why?” he asked.
“I wouldn’t risk Quist’s life.”
“You don’t know if it was in danger.”
“He would’ve stopped at nothing to kill him. Would your Creator have tolerated eons of built-up hatred against him? Death is always easier. I’m beyond the guilt that comes after a murder.” She twisted her fingers together. “I don’t think I care anymore. I care about a few things now and that’s it, no more. If I have to kill for those things, then so be it.”
“He was trapped in the stone,” Galan pressed but trailed off.
Yahiro pressed her fingers against the hard lump in her stomach. “And it only brightened in the darkness, where you never roam unless forced...”
“Lost and where we would never have found it... Why?” he finished.
She curled her legs under her, relishing in having a mediocre amount of strength again. “Are all the Creator’s gone?” she asked instead.
“Most and those that still exist keep to themselves and know nothing of the others.”
“Maybe,” Yahiro wondered. “Maybe they lost their power.” And she thought back to what Quist told her. “Or maybe the Psion’s did it. You two felt him vanish and you felt him return, do you feel him now?”
“I only feel you,” Galan answered.
Yahiro turned to face him. “I’m glad but even if you still felt him, I met Quist first. He’s my first regardless if he’s third. I wouldn’t hurt him and allowing Lusheenn to reemerge could’ve hurt him.” A movement flitted in the corner of her vision and Sundamar stepped forward. “I wouldn’t risk any of you.”
Sundamar opened his mouth to say something but quickly closed it. Galan squeezed his shoulder and she leaned up to pull Sundamar down to press her lips to his. His were soft and welcoming and moved over hers before she could lead. The silence told her that the valos were speaking to each other in their heads.
When the kiss broke, she was flushed and exhausted and the sheets on the bed were bunched up in his fists.
“We wouldn’t risk you either, pale one.” Galan smoothed her hair back and she curled on her side, making room for Sundamar to spoon her.
“I’m sorry,” Yahiro whispered and closed her eyes. And with two of her light valos pressed up on either side of her, she fell back asleep. The dreams from before never came back.
YAHIRO PULLED HERSELF out of the pillowed aviary where she had remained for the last several dozen dawns. It was slow moving finding the use of her feet and her balance again but like everything in her life, in her past training, her muscle memory remembered. And its memory was strong.
The first thing she had noticed when her eyes opened was that Galan and she were alone. Blissfully alone. A hysterical giggle left her dry lips before she faced the bright rays of sun and made her progress down the steps to the pools.
It came with a little surprise that she had made it so far without interference of any kind. Her eyes roved over every corner, nook and cranny, and the sky above to see where her valos were lurking.
It wasn’t until she rounded the circular staircase that Quist came into view where he stood stoically, and as devilishly handsome as ever, at the bottom, waiting for her. She felt the ever-constant patter of her heart skip a beat but continued slowly to her destination and toward him.
When she reached the bottom step, his beaded arms rounded her middle and pulled her against his chest.
“I’m sorry!” she wheezed. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” His hold on her tightened. He lifted her off her feet and flew her into the air, ove
r the side of the molo and down toward the ground. She didn’t even care realizing how much she had missed him and how much she would do for him. He’ll always be safe in my sight.
She begged for him to know how much she cared for him, that she hadn’t swallowed the sunstone out of spite, and as they landed softly upon the mossy ground, he cupped her cheeks and rubbed his forehead over hers.
So much sadness filled his eyes. One of his wiry hands fell to her stomach and cupped where the stone would sit until she passed away and decayed. Where he could never reach it without killing her and whatever small piece of Lusheenn that was left would always remain in the dark.
“Yahero,” he said as he swiped a wayward tear from her cheek.
“Quist.”
“I love you.”
It was in her language; it was in his strong alien accent. And it was the best moment of her long, bittersweet life.
“I love you too, alien.”
Yahiro didn’t know what the future would hold for her and her valos, their empty cities that traveled the world, or for the other human survivors scattered across the vast lands of Sonhadra, but she knew that whatever lay before her was much brighter and filled with a radiance that had permeated her soul and healed her wounds.
She glanced up at the sun in the sky and knew it was the same one as yesterday and would be the same one tomorrow, because she was forever suspended in dawn, and that night would never be reached again.
Epilogue
YAHIRO
Months later, she’d suspected but hadn’t been sure. She knew Earth months had passed in her life even though they had only traveled the planet in two world spins.
She reached down and caressed her distended belly and the kicks followed her hand.
Yahiro lifted her other hand to scratch the broken translator tech behind her ear. It was her reminder of her former life while the heavy stone in her stomach served as the anchor to the life she had now. She also had her bag from Galan, but chose to keep her past... her past. The only thing she kept with her was her sister’s unicorn.
After Lusheenn had been stopped from solidifying, and she had slowly begun to heal—slower than her valos liked—the melted golden light had never left her skin. And even now, standing under the rays of the sun, she still felt the twinges of encroaching embers across her marks.
She also didn’t heal back into the human she once was. She was different now.
The weight gain had taken her by surprise. It happened gradually, in one specific area, that same place where the stone sat heavy inside her. Yahiro had never, in her long, bittersweet life, ever thought about babies, but the moment she discovered the cause of her extra weight, discovered what was growing within her, it had consumed her thoughts.
Because of her surprise and apprehension, she didn’t tell her men. Instead, using caution and secrecy like she had been trained to do, she kept it to herself, and even when her belly got bigger and bigger and Galan began to stare at her with narrowed, suspicious eyes, she kept her mouth shut.
She’d been terrified that maybe she was wrong. That if she voiced it out loud, the idea, the exhilaration of having a baby would flit away in the wind—like so much of her life. It was too precious for her to risk it.
But Galan’s eyes trailed after her, everywhere she went, and then Quist was nearly always by her side. Sundamar had refused to let her leave the city and she was no longer allowed to be taken up into the air and fly with one of her winged angels in the sun’s rays. She still kept it to herself until she felt a kick under her palm.
Since then, they had been on her like white on rice, and it grated every last nerve-ending she had. It could’ve been the pregnancy jitters, she may never know, but her senses had attuned noticeably and even during their stealthier moments, her men could no longer hide from her knowledge. There was always one keeping her within their sights.
The cravings for Earth food had intensified as well, bringing back a whole world of things she missed dearly.
It’s easier now.
Yahiro petted her belly over the gauzy shift she wore. Little tendril-like stretch marks marred her skin. She traced them when she was nervous, a habit Quist had picked up. Although it wasn’t really a habit since he couldn’t keep his hands off her. Galan touched her all the time too.
She found Sundamar’s presence to be her favorite at her worst of times. Sometimes she needed the hard instead of soft, and he always took charge without question. It gave her time to worry about other things.
They had found Preta and Charlie who, in all the strange circumstance that had happened to her since Sonhadra, had mated with valos of their own. Yahiro only saw them once, and once was good enough for her. What worried her now was that they never had found the survivors at the shipwreck. After Lusheenn had been killed and his light had seeped to the very marrow of her body, while her recovery was well on its way, Galan had returned to the site.
He came back empty-handed except for some left-behind supplies. Yahiro believed him when he said he had found no sign of their corpses but she needed to know for herself, and despite the begrudgement of her valos, they had gone back, once again leaving the city behind, unguarded, and unmoving.
The scene was gruesome. She lost count after the first dozen ak’rena corpses, and then the corpses of other forest predators throughout, all at varying stages of decomposition. Alien bugs flitted and crawled over torn skin and in and out of several day old bullet wounds. The rot and putrescence had filled her nose and stayed there.
She cursed Galan, cursed herself, and felt the stabbing pain of guilt seed her flesh and run through her bones. I left them.
Every day, Quist and Galan took shifts to scout and fly around the outskirts of the city, every day they came back with nothing about the humans she had crashed here with. They did come back with a vast amount of intel though, and the daily missions were now mandatory according to Sundamar, who in his own frustration, rarely went out himself.
She made it up to him with half-a-hundred naked liaisons on his throne. A smile twitched at her lips. Her fingers continued to rub her baby-bump. He’ll have the hardest job soon enough.
He’s going to have to play Dad.
He’ll have no idea.
There’s no escape.
That thought filled her with sinister delight and a little bit of glee.
A flash in the distance caught her eye and she peered out over the desert landscape until Quist’s body came into view. He was heading straight toward her and landed in a kneel at her feet to immediately nuzzle her belly.
Yahiro threaded her fingers through his long hair and tugged him harder against her. He doesn’t have to say anything. She already knew he came back with no news.
“How is mine female today?” His lips brushed against her. His English had come far.
“Waiting,” she whispered in reply.
“For me?”
“Yes.”
She clutched his head as he pushed aside her dress and held her upright. His mouth went straight to her clit where in his usual chaotic way, he feasted on her with no rhyme or reason. His tongue would dip into her sex and he’d suck on her quim, the beads on his face rolling anywhere and everywhere, then back to her clit again and again. He kept her on the edge of a climax continuously, as if he had innate skill somewhere in his frenzy.
Yahiro began to sink to the ground when his wings caught her and pulled her under his body and into his cocoon. I wouldn’t change a thing. His cock thrust between her legs in one go and filled her to the brink. And with his hands roaming her body and clenching her dress, he took over until his seed pumped between them.
Sometimes she found climax with Quist; most times she went crawling to Sundamar or Galan to finish her off. But those moments when his frenetic need for her body was tempered enough, she’d scream and thrash and cry, momentarily caught up in the frenzy.
When it was over, he helped her with a smile and righted her dress, the dew between her legs already
vanishing into a golden dust.
“What else are you waiting for?” he asked abruptly. Now that Lusheenn was gone, she was the only oath he had left, and because of that, he noticed more than she liked.
Yahiro placed her hands back on her belly, his covered hers that next moment. “This.”
“What else?”
She frowned and pouted and then frowned again. “I wish I had the right words to say.”
Quist pulled her into his arms, and then into his wings until he trapped her away from the universe.
SUNDAMAR
He paced in circles unable to stop. Not once, since he re-awoke many dawns past, had he ever felt so out of control. Sundamar glanced at Yahiro lying upon a nest he had painstakingly made—he had put in more dawns, noons, and evenings than he could count. He had never spent so long on one thing in his life. He had never created something for the sake of creation.
It never occurred to him to try until after Yahiro appeared in a vision, and eventually into his world. Sundamar was pleased with the home he had made; it kept his mind off of the fact he was as grounded as his female. But in that, he was happy. It was something only the two of them shared when they watched his brothers jump off the sides of the city or land heavily on their feet.
“I HATE YOU!” Yahiro screeched, making him flinch and clench his hands. His muscles bulged and tensed to the point where he had to strip off the metal plates of his armor. He had no place in the process, useless with the horrible disorder of his female going through childbirth.
Childbirth. Galan had told them all what he had found out and even now his second was kneeled between Yahiro’s spread legs, his eyes nearly as wild but far stronger than he was currently.
Sundamar wetted another gauze and wiped it across his female’s forehead before he went back to pacing.
‘Calm down.’
Yahiro continued to groan and release noises he couldn’t handle, continued to screech and cry between intervals.
‘I can’t.’
‘She’s in pain. You’re not helping.’