by J. J. Lore
Well, that uncertain future was right in front of her, steaming as it prepared for takeoff, a metallic grey ship looking for all the world like an enormous axe blade. She wanted to run from it, wanted to scuttle back to the tiny cabin and hide in the big bed, but there was no chance of that. Both of her Alphan men had grimly assisted with her small packing requirements that morning, then escorted her to a quiet corner of the nearly deserted dining hall where they’d collected an assortment of breakfast offerings she hadn’t been able to eat. They hadn’t eaten either, merely stared off, inspecting the farthest walls and stacks of chairs. She’d longed for some acknowledgement from them but knew her fragile hold on her emotions would shatter if one of them had given her a soft look or supportive touch.
After all, they had agreed what had happened between them was going to end at her departure, so why was she struggling against it? She might as well ask herself why she was breathing or why the sky was overcast grey. There were things that simply were and far more things that never could be.
A big Alphan in a crisp red uniform descended from a yawning gate and waved at them, apparently the signal she was free to board if the sudden tension radiating from Deklan and Leo was an indicator.
Not wanting to succumb to sniveling, she decided a simple goodbye was the best way to approach their separation. She took a step forward and heard Deklan inhale deeply as she turned to face them. Both finally looked at her, raking their gazes over her like she was disappearing in front of their eyes.
“Thank you for everything.” She managed to get out this much, before her throat closed off and she had to swallow back all the words of anguish and desire that wanted to break free. She wasn’t going to burden them with her outbursts. There was nothing they could do, so why embarrass them in front of their peers?
“Thank you,” Deklan said in a strangled voice as Leo inhaled through his nose and tightened his full lips. She wanted farewell kisses from them, wanted declarations of agony at the thought of her leaving. Instead she got two simple words. Clearly, the emotional disruption was all on her side of this equation. So best make this quick and clean rather than confuse these Alphans with human blubbering.
Deklan reached into a pocket concealed by the waterproof cloak he was wearing and pulled out a small cloth pouch. He pressed it in her hand and folded her fingers over the small, hard contents that shifted like pebbles. “Take this and use it to ease your life. We want you to have them.”
The mist whispered around them, and she couldn’t find her voice, too caught up in her misery to thank either of the looming men for this parting gift.
She gestured for her small case that Leo had carried, and he handed it over silently, his golden eyes not quite meeting hers. Once she had the small collection of her belongings back into her hands, she managed a stiff nod at them, then turned on her heel and walked toward the ramp and open hatch where the crewman waited, the damp packet clenched in her fist.
She wasn’t going to look back, wasn’t going to add another memory to plague her upcoming days. Her time with them was over, no matter how perfect they’d made her feel. As she stepped up the incline of the ramp, her resolution wavered, and she paused for a quick glance over her shoulder. They stood shoulder to shoulder, legs straight and gazes fixed on her, as impassive as if they’d been carved from stone.
Tears prickled her eyes, and she sucked in a quick breath, forcing herself to turn away and continue into the dark hold of the ship. She didn’t know how long she’d be aboard, where she’d be living when she arrived back on Earth, but she was certain this was the last time she’d be here, or see Deklan or Leo. The realization was like a kick in the belly, and her knees shook as she entered the ship, the weak light of Vashon gradually replaced by artificial ship’s illumination.
Numb, she followed the instructions of the Alphan crew members, handing over her case, taking a seat, connecting the various parts of the safety harness, all while some tender part of her soul shriveled. Once she was secured and the crew went to their stations, she opened the pouch Deklan had given her. A spill of faceted gems fell into her palm, glittering red, green, blue and gradations of other hues. This must have been some of the plunder they’d found in battle, before they’d been forced to retire. It was a fortune, enough to ensure she’d never go hungry or without shelter for the rest of her life. They’d given her a future. As the ship’s engines rumbled to life and the seat shuddered beneath her, she knew Leo and Deklan were gone forever from her life. An anguished wail left her, and the long-denied tears burned from her closed eyes as she let grief wash over her in a hot ache.
Chapter Eight
Deklan looked at the empty bin that should have been full of towels and wanted to toss it out the window. In fact, he’d rather blast a hole through the wall with a cannon, then throw the bin through the smoking opening, but he didn’t have any weaponry at hand.
Suppressing a curse, he went in search of his bondmate, ready to argue with him yet again. Their relationship had been strained since Aura’s departure three months before, and he had no idea how to repair the ties between them. They didn’t talk much, avoided each other during their free time, and never spoke of the woman they were both aching for.
Leo wasn’t at his post in the ward office, or in the makeshift laundry facility where stacks of dirty linens waited to be washed. They’d both put in as many extra hours at work as they could manage because neither of them wanted to spend much time in the cabin remembering Aura there, so he knew his bondmate was somewhere in the building. He glanced in the dining hall and small galley beyond, both of which were deserted. Next was the supply bunker. Perhaps Leo had finally noticed how everything he was supposed to keep in stock was dwindling. Deklan had run out of his favorite liniment two days before and today had used the last pressure wrap on a warrior’s sprained wrist.
When he tried the door it wouldn’t open. There wasn’t a lock on it, which meant someone had jammed it from the inside. Or there had been an earthquake earlier causing shelves to fall and block the motion of the door. Unlikely. Putting his shoulder into it, allowing some of his anger and frustration to flow out of his dark mind, Deklan shoved at the door. It creaked on its hinges and opened half a meter, so he planted his feet, pushed again, and with a pop, it opened. A folded table lay on the floor, clearly the object that had been used to keep the door closed, and he pushed it aside with his foot. He briefly contemplated picking it up and smashing it to pieces, but knew Leo wouldn’t order a replacement any time soon.
Shelves stacked with dwindling supplies lined the wall, and as he marched down the center of the quiet room, he had to force himself to keep his voice at a reasonable volume. “Leo? Are you in here?”
There was a slight scuffling sound, and he sensed his bondmate inside. More accurately, he felt his partner’s despair like a dark wave, matching his own he struggled to keep at bay. As the days since her departure had dragged on, Deklan had come to accept he’d bonded with her. Her absence was a torture of a similar nature if Leo had died in that last battle they’d shared. But Aura wasn’t dead, she was simply gone, and not knowing how she fared was his first concern every day he woke. His second concern was always Leo’s state of mind, which was blacker by the hour.
He stepped in the room, cautious about Leo’s location. He didn’t want to startle him and suffer an injury if Leo flailed out in startled anger. It was possible, for they were both frustrated and edgy. At the end of a row of depleted paper supplies, he saw his bondmate seated on the floor, his forearms propped across his raised knees, his head lowered as if he’d fallen asleep. Without a thought, Deklan lowered himself to his bondmate’s side, copying his posture but keeping his eyes on Leo.
“Why did you block the door?”
“So no one could push his way in here and bother me about why there was no hygienic tissue in the bathroom.”
Since Leo was in charge of such matters, Deklan could understand why he might be plagued by such requests, considering h
ow spotty supplies had become. “I’m not going to ask you about supplies.”
Leo grunted once in acknowledgement, but didn’t raise his head. He’d always been much more taciturn than Deklan, but since Aura had gone, his bondmate was positively silent. Puffing out a sigh and gingerly leaning his injured back against the wall behind them, Deklan let his head loll, and he stared at the plastered ceiling above them. The ache in his heart grew. They’d lost Aura just as they’d found her, and he was afraid he was also losing Leo, albeit in a much slower fashion. Before they’d thought and acted as one, with no miscommunication and perfect trust. Now he lived with a ghost.
“Why are you here?” Leo asked in a weary voice.
“Because I can’t go on like this any longer.” As soon as the words left his mouth, Deklan marveled that he’d said them. He hadn’t realized he was so close to surrender until he’d seen his strong and courageous bondmate hiding in a closet, which was exactly where Deklan wished he, too, had been for these last weeks. No longer having to pretend all was well around the other men, no longer forcing himself to go to work and assist warriors on their journeys back to lives that mattered. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed Leo raise his head and fix a dark stare on him.
“What are you going to do instead?”
Deklan waited a moment, his brain running faster than he could speak. Everything in him was telling him to do the one thing he knew his bondmate would refuse. Leo followed the rules, obeyed orders, and had complete faith that the path they’d chosen was correct. Excel in training, be brave on the battlefield, continue to serve as best they could, all were the guideposts of his bondmate’s life. “I’m going to see Aura.”
“No.” Leo shook his head and stared at the wall, his jaw tight. “That’s over, Deklan. Ending it as we did was the only good decision we made.”
“We didn’t really make a decision, as I recall,” Deklan said, flexing his fingers in the air. He’d like to punch something right about now. Hit something hard, draw blood, his own or someone else’s, it mattered not.
Leo shook his head and hissed out a breath. “I’m not going over this again, Deklan. She was here; we had intercourse; she left. Nothing more.”
The rage that had been at a slow simmer in Deklan’s gut for many days boiled up. Their time with Aura had been much more meaningful than that, and Leo knew it despite his denials. “It was everything. We bonded with—”
Just as he almost uttered the words that broke him every time he thought them, Leo leapt up with a roar and hit the shelving in front of him, flinging the metal struts into its neighbor with a clanging crash. As if that destruction wasn’t enough, Leo picked up one end of the toppled piece of furniture and lifted it into a cartwheeling toss, wedging it against the wall and sending bottles of cleansers flying.
Deklan was on his feet, wary at what might become Leo’s next target. His bondmate whirled around, his eyes flashing and searching as he tightened his shoulders. Deklan braced for an attack that didn’t come. Instead, Leo took in a shaky breath and pressed his hands to his face, all the tension in his body shaking away.
“Don’t talk about her, please,” Leo growled. “I’m dead inside. I can’t—”
As his bondmate choked back into silence, Deklan realized he couldn’t read him any longer, couldn’t gauge his intentions or sense his mood. His sense of loss magnified to unbearable proportions, but it was Leo who broke first, reaching out blindly for his embrace.
Deklan wrapped his arms around his bondmate, the first contact they’d had in uncounted days, and in a slow amplification of awareness he found Leo again, sensed his anguish and sense of loss, his guilt. He felt Leo’s heart hammering, his irregular breaths sighing in and out of his body, and Deklan tightened his grip, determined to do whatever it took to relieve Leo’s suffering, their shared suffering for that matter.
“We’re going to find her.”
“She’s gone. She was probably claimed by the captain of the ship as soon as she boarded it—” His bondmate’s voice was hoarse and stuttering.
“We don’t know that. She might be feeling as bereft as we are.” Deklan hardly dared hope she hadn’t already bonded with new mates. There was no telling if she’d reciprocated his and Leo’s connection. She’d been taken from them too quickly for them to explore the strength of it. He tightened his hold around Leo’s shoulders and willed some strength for both of them.
“We’ll go to Earth and find her. If she isn’t there, if she’s bonded with others we’ll know, and it will break this hold on us and ease our misery.” He tried to sound determined. He had no idea if the overwhelming urge he had to be near her would be shattered if he found evidence she’d chosen the embrace of other men, but it would certainly shock his system enough to allow him to let go of his fantasies. They might be fortunate and face a challenge from her men. Dying at the hands of righteous warriors defending their woman might be a relief at this point.
“Our duty is here.” Leo shook his head and drew back, a dissatisfied scowl on his face.
“We have leave accumulated. I’ll make the formal request today.”
“Who will step in to manage things?”
“Patient numbers are low. Order supplies and put this room to rights. I’m going to speak to the commander.” Deklan was energized by his decision and relished taking charge. Leo blinked at him a couple of times and stepped away to look over the mess he’d made.
“How will we even find her?”
“Mak works at the palace now in the diplomatic section. He’ll have access to information.” Deklan’s mention of their former comrade, sidelined as they were by battle scars, made Leo’s expression brighten momentarily. “I’ll send him a message as soon as I’ve booked our passage.”
Leo shook his head once as he lifted up the fallen shelf, stacks of wrapped bandages sliding off onto the floor. “If we do find her, what’s to say she’ll even want to see us? We practically threw her on board that ship. I never told her—”
Deklan squeezed Leo’s shoulder, then helped him line the shelf up in its proper place. It was only slightly bent and barely rocked. “She’ll see us, if only to tell us what fools we are. You can apologize for your shortcomings then.”
“You have shortcomings, too, Deklan.” A trace of Leo’s former decisiveness threaded through his voice, and Deklan’s spirit lifted. Even if she rejected them, humiliated them by throwing rotten fruit their way in the public square, it would at least resolve the anguish lodged in his heart.
****
Leo pretended he was comfortable striding down the wide corridor of this old Earth building, but the soft red bricks and smooth stone floors were too serene and civilized for someone of his more aggressive customs. Deklan matched him stride for stride as they followed the functionary towards wide, open doors at the end of the space. His bondmate’s quiet certainty eased Leo’s anxiety and would, he hoped, help curb his temper.
Their old compatriot Mak, also formerly of the Raghar cohort, had been waiting for them in the arrivals terminal when they’d landed on Earth with housing and transportation arrangements well in hand. He’d also produced some sparse information on Aura. She was living in the new refugee center established at an abandoned university campus in a country called Canada and had been since she’d landed months ago. She hadn’t taken up residence with any newly-formed bondmates, at least not yet. Mak had given them the unwelcome news that these unattached human women were regularly invited to social occasions among the visiting Alphan diplomats, the better to expose them to high-ranking and influential warriors. She’d been meeting cultured and powerful men in lavish settings, and who would blame her if she’d fallen under the spell of bondmates who might command fleets of warships or govern planets? He and Deklan didn’t stand a chance of impressing her now. His only hope was that she might feel the same primal need for them that he and Deklan possessed for her.
They emerged into the bright sunlight of a large atrium filled with scattered green palm
s. White furniture with yellow pads was arranged in different areas of the large, echoing space. There was a cluster of uniformed Alphans at one end, seated in a semicircle around a petite blonde woman. Aura. As soon as he saw her, her presence filled him with sparkling warmth. His bond with her remained. Deklan stiffened at his side, and Leo knew he was experiencing the same sense of completion. Dread filled him.
The functionary made a gesture for them to remain, and he approached the group with deferential steps. The Alphans around Aura rose and stared at the newcomers, numerous gems indicating high rank glittering along the shoulders of their uniforms. Two colonels, a commander, and even a reserve general. Leo straightened his already tight posture, unashamed to be in nondescript civilian garb. He had a feeling, no matter what transpired between them and Aura, that he and Deklan would be leaving their military life behind after this encounter. Their commander had certainly discouraged this trip and had bluntly advised them a human woman would never be welcome among his ranks.
He couldn’t see Aura beyond the large bodies of the men who’d been paying court to her beauty, but a stab of excitement filled him, the emotional signature on it not Deklan’s or his own, but that long missed energy of hers. She emerged from the cluster of men, heedless of who she bumped as she rushed their way, completely ignoring the functionary who was waiting to make formal introductions. Her hair was long and unbound, gleaming in the bright light from overhead, and her eyes were fixed on them as she approached. Leo scanned her features for any sign of anger, reached out with his heart to detect any sort of dismay from her, but all he could feel was a fierce joy. He didn’t know if it originated with him, Deklan, or Aura, but the satisfaction of it, the power of it, erased all the sadness and grief he’d been harboring for months.