by Anna Carven
Her delicious scent engulfs me as we make for the exit. Ami reaches out to take my other hand.
As the Qualum doors begin to unfuse, Abbey stops us at the threshold. She slips her hands inside her coat, fishing for something.
“Shades,” she reminds me, pressing the dark lenses into my hand. I wince as the harsh ultraviolet light hits me in the face. I am thankful for Zharek’s UV-blocking nano-film, which forms an invisible layer over my skin, but the infernal sunlight is blinding.
I put on the shades, and my world crystallizes into soaring mountains and brilliant white snow and the refreshing chill of winter on Earth.
We walk outside and Ami takes the lead, pulling me with frenetic energy.
The light doesn’t bother me anymore.
It hasn’t for a while now.
16
Abbey
This place Tarak’s brought us to—wherever it is—is spectacular. My breath catches as I stare up at the soaring mountains, suddenly feeling very small and insignificant.
All of my disappointment at missing the Christmas lunch melts away as I take in the scenery.
This place is fucking beautiful.
Ami drops to her knees and starts playing with the snow, utterly fascinated. Her hands are bare, but she’s not bothered one little bit. She holds a clump of snow up to the sky, ooh-ing and aah-ing as it shimmers in the morning light.
It figures. She’s a half-Kordolian snow baby.
We’ve gone from dusk in the desert to morning in the Alps. Wrapped in my thick fur coat—seriously, where did he even find that?—and sturdy Veronian boots, the cold barely touches me. Snow crunches underfoot as I look around.
For a moment, we’re both silent. We stand side by side, surrounded by nature’s stark majesty, our hands entwined.
When you travel millions of light years through space, it’s easy to forget that Earth is ancient and spectacular and powerful, and we are just tiny flickers in her existence.
One day, we’ll all be gone, and these mountains will still be standing.
“Ta-rak,” I say softly, a shred of uncertainty creeping up on me as I look around. There’s nothing out here but snow and rocks and mountains and the wind, which is starting to whip up, howling faintly in the distance. “We’re not really doing this Aikun style, are we?” An image of us sleeping in a cave and fishing for trout in the frozen lake springs to mind. I suspect that would be Tarak’s ideal break; sleeping in the cold, hunting, fishing.
Ami would probably dig it, but I need a few creature comforts myself.
He chuckles, a deep, spine-tingling sound that burrows right down into the lower regions of my body. “I am not that inhospitable. Look closely, amina.”
I stare at the snow, the rocks, the stark outline of the mountain’s shoulder. Wait, something’s different… I can just detect a faint outline in the snow. A path? It’s made of stone or concrete, a well-defined structure covered in snow that leads to some sort of entrance in the mountainside.
My eyes widen in surprise. “Did you have this built? Who even owns this land?”
“The mountain is mine now. Payment granted in exchange for services rendered.”
“An entire mountain?” I scoff. “Your services don’t come cheap, General.” I can’t fathom what kind of service would warrant payment in the form of an entire mountain. Dare I even ask?
“We are the best at what we do.”
“Of course. Is this Darkstar’s official slogan now?”
“We do not have a slogan.” He leans close, looking faintly amused. Actually, I haven’t seen him this relaxed in forever. He’s dressed in what I call Kordolian casual, wearing a faded old kashkan and nothing else, not even shoes. The deep vee of his robe reveals the hard contours of his chest. His hair is untrimmed and slightly tousled, and I can just make out the dark bumps of his regenerating horns.
God, he’s utterly delicious. Comfortable, relaxed, and just a little bit mischievous. This is the side of Tarak that the rest of the Universe doesn’t get to see.
“This mountain is ours,” he says softly, tightening his arm around my waist. “It is inaccessible by foot or vehicle, and we have jammed the surrounding airspace so human craft can’t fly here.”
“Completely cut off from the outside world.”
“Yes. That is the point.”
“So you do seem to understand the concept of a holiday.”
“I catch on quickly.”
He’s not modest, either. How does my husband navigate this human society of ours with such ease? It’s as if he’s lived he his entire life; as if he owns the damn planet. You would think the Federation would be shadowing every move these Kordolians make, but the truth is, they can’t.
And Tarak knows how to wield power. He has a whole lot of that at his disposal.
Applying gentle pressure to the small of my back, he guides me toward the mysterious entrance, beckoning at Ami to follow. “Come,” he says gently, and she gets up immediately and runs to his side, still clutching her precious ball of snow.
Damn. How does he do that? She’s never like this with me.
“Snow, daddy, snow!” She holds it up for Tarak to see.
“Yes.” Tarak nods sagely, as if he’s receiving the most important snippet of intelligence. Before he can say anything else…
Thwack!
The very same lump of snow hits him square in the face. Tarak blinks, slowly wiping away the cold, slushy mess.
I gape. Nobody does that to my husband. Nobody. Not unless they’re particularly suicidal. “Ami,” I chide, staring at Tarak’s wet, dripping face.
“Bwah bwah!” Our daughter squeals with laughter, finding the whole thing utterly hilarious.
“You could have dodged that, Tarak.”
“Yes.” He smiles indulgently. “I could have, but she needs to learn that offensive action leads to consequences.” He stops, leans down, and picks up a clump of snow. Suddenly, he grabs Ami around the waist and gently rubs the snow into her hair, tickling her at the same time.
She squeals with laughter.
“What is this, toddler military school?”
“It is never too early to teach strategy.” Tarak hoists Ami onto his shoulders, looking mighty pleased with himself as we reach the entrance, which is actually a proper Qualum door. Obviously, he’s had it installed.
Faint traces of a delicious scent waft to me on the breeze. Is that… barbecue?
The door unravels. Beyond is a pitch-black corridor.
I’m confused. Excited. A little bit apprehensive. Butterflies flit inside my stomach.
Where on Earth is Tarak taking us?
17
Abbey
The journey though total darkness is short and disorienting. Of course, Tarak can see perfectly, thanks to his ultra-sensitive Kordolian retinas. Ami’s fine too, but I’m as blind as a bat.
There’s definitely a barbecue smell coming from the other side. And is that…
Music?
“What the hell, Tarak?”
The Qualum doors at the other end of the corridor slowly unravel, revealing slivers of light that coalesce together to reveal…
Chattering voices. People. Food. A wide, astonishing space. Music… is that jazz I’m hearing? Sunken floors, cozy rugs, a holographic fireplace that suffuses the room with gentle warmth.
I stop dead in my tracks.
Holy hell.
Soaring floor-to-ceiling windows treat us to a panoramic view of the frozen lake and the mountains beyond. The skies are perfectly blue. The sun is shining. It’s all so brilliant and surreal, such a far cry from the dark, claustrophobic interior of Silence, where we spent so many long months together.
A flash of movement on the horizon draws my attention.
There are people out there on the lake. Silver-skinned Kordolians. They’ve cut a hole in the ice, and they’re swimming in the freezing lake. A thin plume of grey smoke drifts lazily into the sky… are they roasting something out there? I
t’s as if they were back on Kythia, in the windswept Vaal, only with mountains and sunshine.
“You...” I’m stunned. These days, it takes a lot to render me speechless. Tarak’s taken the entire Christmas lunch brigade and transported them here, to a decadent mountain hideaway that seriously looks like the lair of some old-fashioned film villain.
And he did it all in secret, making me think he was just being obstinate. Devious male.
“Th-this is all yours?”
“Ours,” he whispers, gently setting Ami on the floor. “Surprise.”
There’s an expectant look on his face as he gauges my reaction.
I’m blinking furiously. Am I about to cry? No way.
Keep it together, woman.
“Tarak, you—” I look up at him, and he smiles.
That smile. It’s pure and brilliant, and so very rare.
I savor the moment until someone waves to me from across the room.
“Abbey! You finally made it! What the hell took you so long?” Several familiar faces rush toward me at once. Sera. Arin. Jia. Riana.
The room is full of people I know. I spot several of the First Division warriors; Kalan, Rykal, Enki, Torin, even stone-faced Kail, who doesn’t do social events, like ever. Iskar’s here, along with a couple of the other Commanders—Tarkun and Mardok.
Over by the window, a group of striking figures sits on the low, curving couches. Mari’s startling blue hair makes her easy to spot. She’s chatting with Seph, who sneaks a glance at Torin as she sips on her beer. Layla sees me and waves. I wave back. Noa and Ash are there too, sitting slightly apart, an entity unto themselves. Noa smiles as she meets my eyes, before turning to say something to Layla.
Ami disentangles her fingers from Tarak’s and takes off, her little feet pounding the polished concrete floor as she heads for a cozy corner decorated with rugs and soft furs. Xal’s there, sitting with his legs crossed. His loose white hair cascades over his shoulders, and his untrimmed horns are proudly displayed.
Xal is the most au naturel of all the Kordolians. He stubbornly refuses to adopt the conventions of the former Empire. He never cuts his horns.
“Unki Kal!” Ami scrambles into his lap and reaches out to tug on his horns. She always does this when he comes to visit.
Xal winces. “Hey kiddo, you get stronger every time I see you. But what do you expect from Tarak’s kid?” He shoots us a wry glance and offers a lazy half-wave.
But it’s the two small figures sitting on the floor in front of him that catch my attention. The Kazharan twins are fighting over a little soft toy that resembles three planets strung together, and they’re freaking adorable.
Mia and Erik are like day and night. Mia has inherited her father’s silvery tone and pale hair, and her eyes are a startling shade of caramel—a color I haven’t seen in humans or Kordolians. Erik takes after his mother, with curly steel-grey hair, eyes of polished mahogany, and tan, almost human-colored skin.
Their little toy jangles and squeaks, and Ami turns to watch them, her eyes narrowing. Suddenly, she climbs out of Xal’s lap and grabs the toy, dangling it over the babies’ heads.
“Share,” she commands, a very Tarak-like scowl crossing her adorable face. “Baby share.”
The twins stare up at her, blinking in confusion.
Then their faces crumple.
Uh-oh.
“Uwaaah!” An ear-splitting scream erupts from their throats, and several of the warriors flinch. My husband feels it too—I can tell from the way his left ear twitches—but he keeps his composure, because he’s had training in this sort of thing.
“Ami,” I snap as the screaming escalates to a frantic crescendo. “Give the toy back.”
She ignores me, turning away. Instead, she thrusts the thing into Xal’s hands, an expectant look on her face, as if to say: you sort it out.
“Hey, hey, shush now. It’s okay, Mia. It’s okay, Erik.” Xal smiles wryly as he dangles the little toy above their heads. “You know, we had two of these, but one’s already been sacrificed to the chaos monster. I didn’t realize having kids creates a perpetual black hole that eats all your stuff.”
“Oh, the black hole is real, all right.” I laugh.
Ami scrambles around and delivers clumsy-but-gentle hugs to each of the twins.
Miraculously, they settle down.
“So? What do you think, Abbey?” The girls crowd around me, seemingly oblivious to my intimidating husband, who looks exceedingly pleased with himself. He removes his shades and folds his arms, his crimson gaze traveling slowly across the room.
An emperor surveying his domain.
Several of the warriors tip their heads in acknowledgement.
“You were all in on this,” I grumble, although a warm-and-fuzzy feeling is spreading through my chest. “Now I get why everyone was so fucking unavailable for the past week. You were putting this together, weren’t you?”
“It was his idea.” Jia nods at Tarak, who offers an enigmatic shrug. “We were just following orders. Um, it was fun. Scary, but fun. Remind me not to take any more jobs where he’s directly in charge. I don’t think my delicate constitution could handle it.”
“Tarak?”
“They surpassed my expectations,” he says softly, giving the girls an approving nod.
“We did?” Riana seems surprised.
“Could have fooled me.” Sera frowns.
Arin looks a little bit chuffed.
I can understand their reaction. I’ve seen Tarak in action. He’s a fucking hard taskmaster, only giving praise when it’s really deserved.
“My mate is pleased, is she not?”
“Y-yeah,” I blurt. This is amazing.
In that instant, all the pent-up tension inside me melts away. A torrent of memories floods my mind, some terrifying and painful, some purely sublime. We’ve been to the edge of hell and back, and I’m not the same naive young bio-scientist he found on Fortuna Tau.
A hint of darkness runs through my veins now. I’ll never be the same again, but that’s okay, because I’m all the stronger for it.
And now we’re in a winter wonderland, surrounded by the best crew in the Universe. My adopted family. Safe. Together. Leaving behind the horrors of the outside world for one brilliant moment.
He’s the mastermind behind all this.
I take a deep, shuddering breath and exhale slowly as a weight I didn’t even know I was carrying lifts from my soul.
Unable to help myself, not caring that we’re in full view of everyone, I lean in and kiss Tarak on his lips. He returns the favor with delicious intensity, his lips hot and tender against mine. Hungry. Wanting. There’s more where that came from. That’s what he’s telling me.
“Thanks,” I say breathlessly, feeling more in love with this impossible, stubborn, brilliant man than ever before. “You figured out exactly what I needed.”
“Of course,” he replies, and I can’t even fault him for being arrogant, because that’s just the way he is. “You are my mate, Abbey of Earth.” He leans in and kisses me again. “Thank you,” he whispers. “For enduring.”
Damn Tarak. Seriously, he’s going to make me cry.
Someone pushes something cold and smooth into my hand. A glass of pale, sparkling liquid.
“Try the Prosecco,” Arin urges with a wink. “It’s good. You look like you could do with a drink.”
“I will allow you some time.” Tarak gently disentangles from me, giving me a look that’s both fierce and gentle as he leaves me with my crew.
“What the hell did I do to deserve all this?” I muse, talking mostly to myself as I take a sip from my glass. The wine is cool and refreshing, with just the right mix of sharpness and sweetness.
“You look after us,” Sera says, punching me affectionately on the shoulder. “I don’t know how I would have gotten through those hellish months of morning sickness without you. And you were sick too. That was nuts. I’ll never forget it.”
“You guys would
have done the same for me,” I shrug, remembering the terrifying day the nanites inside my body went rogue. “At least my illness only lasted a few days. Yours went on for months.”
“Yeah, right up until the day the contractions started. Makes me kinda glad I had two at the same time. I’m officially done.” As she glances across at Xal and the twins, her face softens. “We’re complete. It just feels right.”
My eyes are drawn to my husband’s commanding figure. He’s surrounded by his men, listening intently to Commander Tarkun. He’s got that look again. Hyper-focus. Even now, in this warm, intimate, astonishing place, he’s all business.
I take another sip of my wine, studying him intently as the alcohol begins to suffuse through my body.
I’m not done, not by a long shot.
She doesn’t know it yet, but at some point, Ami will be getting a sibling.
And I still have to give Tarak his surprise.
It’s going to be worth it just to see the look on his face.
18
Abbey
You know that thing that happens when you’ve had too much to drink and you’re trying to act more sober than you really are?
That’s me right now. Being the Big Bad’s mate and all, I’m supposed to possess a certain amount of composure, right?
But damn, that Prosecco was really, really, good. I might have had two glasses more than I was supposed to.
We’ve eaten and drank to our heart’s content—that fresh, roasted trout from the lake was the most delicious thing I’ve ever tasted—and now we’re scattered about the room in our little groups. I’m lounging on a crescent shaped couch that hugs the window, taking a moment to catch up with Noali and her enigmatic mate, Ashrael.
The former Silent One says very little. He just watches us with depthless obsidian eyes, sightless and yet all-seeing.
I find it a little unnerving.
“So we went away from civilization for six months,” Noa says softly, twirling her finger around a strand of her dark brown hair. “At first, I thought I could just come back to Earth and everything would be normal again, but I can’t remain in Ash’s presence all the time, and I needed to learn to control this… this…”