by Amanda Milo
At me.
I gulp back tears, and fight a rising sense of fear.
And it seems like the more I have to strain to keep the Mach 10 level panic attack at bay, the more and more hobs are looking at me.
Why are they looking at me?
Angie breaks free of the hold they have on her and she makes a run for Arokh.
She doesn’t make it.
I slump down, and hug my knees.
The hobs are staring at me.
I desperately try to smother my panic but my nerves are stuttering and shrieking like violin strings in the throes of a wolf note.
And then.
There is a massive boom.
All heads turn.
I clap my hands over my mouth to muffle my shriek. But not of fear - well, not entirely of fear - the explosion just took about a decade off the top of my life but Zadeon! It’s Zadeon! He takes out the executioner by hurling the stadium’s portcullis. He just saved his brother’s neck!
He grabs up the axe, and starts pounding the chains off of his brother.
I’m on my feet with everyone else, ready to cheer!
...but that’s not what happens.
People are screaming.
No.
The aliens are screaming. Not in jubilation.
In fear.
The women, the human women - they look like me; elated, hopeful, excited… terrified.
The stands break into riot.
Mass chaos, crowd, panic, aliens fleeing!
I just want to get to Zadeon.
I’m holding it together, keeping close to the other women, they’re hugging each other to stay upright and I’m right beside them. Getting jostled, bumped, shoved.
Touched.
I see eyes - all around me, eyes ogling me.
Just like before.
At the auction.
All the aliens.
All the rushing bodies.
The cries.
The screams.
Hands on me.
I can’t fight them off.
I claw at a face. Someone grabs me by the back of my neck.
I’m not strong enough.
I’m not strong.
Not like Zadeon. Zadeon!
Even if they don’t kill him in this uprising, it will be too late.
From behind, I get a blow so hard I’m knocked to the ground.
Someone lands on top of me.
My cheek scrapes as I’m dragged over stone steps.
I kick out.
A hand grabs my leg.
I close my eyes.
I don’t want to see.
I don’t want to see it all happen again.
◆◆◆
The song!
My song is back.
My song is back!
The one I lost when I was taken.
It’s incredibly powerful, and beautiful, and it restores my sanity.
It restores me.
I blink and work on taking in air without that awful shuddering that jars the breath back out of you - and I see him.
“Zadeon?” I croak.
His fingers clench the air, his hands stretched out on either side of me - not touching, just hovering.
And…
What the...
It’s Zadeon!
He is the source of my music.
How?
Holy. Smokes.
It’s… him.
He’s the song from my dreams.
His voice.
He is the song!
How is this even possible?
Instead of a wordless melody like I’ve always known it to be though, now, I understand words.
All this time - all this time, has he been talking to me?
HOW IS THIS POSSIBLE?
He’s crooning words like, “I’m here, you are safe now, I’m here,” and “Come back to me, my fiery Callie.” It’s so reassuring my chest constricts.
When he sees that I’m aware, his voice maintains the vestige of the melodious quality - but it’s somehow rougher than before when he asks, “Can I pick you up out of… that?”
I look down. Blood. And… if I never see coils of intestines again, it will be too soon. Numbly, I manage to nod.
With a masculine gasp - deep, loud, strong - he hauls me up into his arms. He is petting my hair, and just like the first time he ever touched me, he’s not hesitant to touch… whatever is sticking to me. His hands might as well be saying; it doesn’t matter - nothing matters - nothing gets between you and me.
“I was afraid I’d lost you,” his words are muffled since his lips are smashed against my filthy scalp - but since they are, I can feel what he’s saying as well as hear it.
“I’m… I’m okay,” I say shakily, not entirely believing that’s true.
He pulls back enough to meet my eyes. “What hurts?”
I test my arm. “My elbow kind of feels like I knocked it and I think some of my fingers might have… gotten… stepped...”
I stop.
And look at him.
His eyes are soft, and serious, and watching my face with one hundred percent focus and concern.
He got the shit pounded out of him, and he’s keeping me supported with one arm, is favoring his other arm - something’s not right with his shoulder - and his face has bruises that form a shape-match for the kind of mask that was locked around Arokh’s head. My best guess is, Zadeon had been sporting a mask as a special accessory too, and had tried to beat it off of his face.
“I’m fine,” I decide to maintain. “But look at you.” I gesture to his naked wrists. “You lost your jewelry. Not so pretty now.”
He blinks at me.
And then… he smiles.
Even seeing what’s sticking to his face - seeing his lips curve makes my heart feel like it just lost a coating of ice.
My voice is small when I ask, “Are you... okay?” I fumble for a moment. “Anything I can…” What? Help him with? I look around. This alien just massacred a stadium to rescue me. I can’t even offer him a band aid.
Before I can talk myself out of it, I almost topple us over when I throw my torso forward to plant a quick, impulsive kiss on his cheek.
I feel the stubble of scale tips against my lips and pull back fast.
And this alien?
This tough, honed, monster that isn’t afraid to face down dozens of opponents - this killer alien?
He looks stunned.
I can’t hold his stare this time. I glance away. And notice everyone watching us.
A tail comes into my view, and twists into a soft curlicue shape.
It nudges my cheek back in his direction. When I give in and turn to look back up at him, I get hit with that smile again.
Hotdamn.
He’s got some serious firepower in that thing.
“I’m fine now, Callie. Now that I have you.”
I start to return his smile.
Then my eyes narrow. “Wait. How do you know my name?”
Chapter 11
ZADEON
Before I can answer, I see her glance off to the side - but not like she’s avoiding my eyes.
She looks back at me expectantly.
Then her eyes dart again.
I catch on, and turn my head that direction and finally hear, “Zadeon!”
Arokh’s voice doesn’t hold impatience - though I am certain this is not the first time he’s had to shout my name. He sounds weary. And worried. I feel my tail spines rattle in response.
“That’s loud,” Callie comments, eyes wide as she watches them.
“Is it?” I say, bringing my tail up so I can squeeze it into stillness. “Sorry.”
“No, it’s… just something else different,” she says with a bemused little tilt of her lips. “That shaking sounds a lot like a…” Her budding mirth disappears.
Keeping her tight to me, I begin to walk us down to join my brother and his mate in the pit.
“It’s just like you not to pay a
ny attention to authority,” he drags his claws over his shoulder, trying to reach at something.
“Turn,” I tell him gruffly, and when he does, I yank out the spearhead that was partially lodged between scales. I flick it to the sand.
“Thanks,” he grunts before he licks his palm and reaches up awkwardly to slap it over the wound.
Callie recoils.
His female slowly brings her fingers up to scratch at the back of her head, eyes squeezed shut for a beat. When she opens them again, she looks at my Callie and grins. “So. Aliens, you know?”
Callie gives her a weak smile in return. “I think I’m starting to, yeah.”
Unsure exactly what this exchange is about, I note with relief that Arokh’s mate is at least friendly - which is unexpected. From what very, very little I’ve been able to observe about humans, they seem much like Gryfala and two of the humans certainly weren’t kind to my Callie yesterday.
“Did you catch any of what went on down here? What the princess decreed?” Arokh asks.
“I had more important matters,” I answer honestly, and Callie goes still.
Arokh nods, accepting this as truth. “We are being forced to submit our mates for testing.”
I tense hard and I feel my quills refilling with toxin.
“Zadeon,” Arokh warns. “Before you react, know that the terms are; we go along with their demands willingly - or we die. They test on our mates either way.”
“Tests…?” Callie’s attention is on Angie.
Angie’s face is twisting in a most alarming manner. “I think shots.”
Callie seems uncomprehending. “Shots?”
“They need to vaccinate us against alien things. And now, they’re going to study us - probably take blood samples!”
Ah. This human fears needles.
“Ohhhh…” Callie says in horror.
Hells. My human fears needles. I growl.
Arokh shakes his head at me. “I don’t care for this either.”
He takes his female’s hand and they begin walking. I don’t offer Callie the option to walk at my side.
Unfortunately, before I can take more than two strides, she tentatively reaches a hand towards my face to get my attention - but doesn’t make actual contact before she says, “Let me down, please.”
Resigned... I do.
She crosses her arms and clasps her elbows protectively.
I look at my brother - content to tuck his bonded’s small hand in his.
When I look back at Callie, it is to see her looking at me. Intently. Expectantly.
I stop walking. “What?”
“Where are we going?”
“Home.”
“Your home?”
“Our home,” I correct.
She dims a little, hearing that.
But she will come around.
She has to.
I’m well aware that this isn’t going to be easy. But I have learned that the most fulfilling elements - the most fulfilling essentials - in life, are the ones you have to fight the hardest for. And Callie and I?
We know how to fight through hard.
We will do it.
We are meant to be together.
Chapter 12
ZADEON
We don’t go home.
I rage at the team of hobs ‘researching’ us. Callie cannot be watched like the others because being monitored disturbs her peace.
I don’t care what agreement was struck before: I will not be pushed on this issue.
The hob that helped me escape, Dohrein, and his wounded friend Crispin become our advocates of sorts - advocates for all the Rakhii, really.
They explain in words where I have been demonstrating in shredded metal and trumpeting that because the intrusion disrupts the peace of my female, that our pairing be allowed to forego monitoring and tests, “At least until she recovers,” Dohrein says.
“Or perhaps never, unless she feels like,” he calmly amends after I once again go on an insane rampage of the room behind him.
◆◆◆
Later, my brother tries to visit.
I slam the door in his face.
He won't be offended.
Whenever his mate isn't watching, and reminding him to ‘play nice’?
He does it too.
I wait for my mate to chastise me. To fret over others’ feelings when I am compelled to make small displays of territoriality over our own nest.
But she doesn’t.
She’s in the bathroom again. And when she isn’t bathing, she is sleeping.
At first, I thought it was because she was in dire need of rest.
But then Arokh’s mate, Angie, stood over her and told me I needed to watch for signs of depression…
Now I worry. Is that what that scent is?
She has a new smell about her - not unpleasant, just altered. It’s actually sweet. Interesting. And day by day, it gets more pronounced. I don’t know what it is, or what it means, and so far, I’ve stubbornly refused to ask the monitoring team.
I’m afraid they’ll test on her.
She has shared that she fears being tested on.
So she won’t be.
But when Angie mentioned this depression condition… “What are the other signs?” I had asked her - and with shock, identified what was coursing through my body; panic.
I don’t panic. I never panic.
But facing the possibility that something isn’t right with Callie...
“I’m no professional,” Angie had meekly started, but at my desperate look, she strengthened. “She might say she’s not feeling hungry, or she’s tired all the time, and she may not want to go anywhere…” she’d looked down at Callie then. And even though my mate was awake, she acted as if she couldn’t hear any of us at all.
More and more, she is slipping into this behavior.
It more than unsettles me.
I am frightened for her.
Sometimes, I lay beside her, internally begging her to look at me.
To answer me.
To touch me.
To want me.
And I think about… about lifting her without her permission, and carrying her outside.
To the fresh air.
The the springy, freshly cut grass.
To the trees.
I think my Callie could use an escape.
At least once in awhile.
I’d even take her into the simulated basking pool. I’m told it is one of the most heavily monitored enclosures but I would in a heartsbeat - if only she showed even a flicker of interest.
But when I asked her if she would like this, she sluggishly worked to turn over so that her back was to me.
“Before you sleep, will you have a protein packet? You know you feel a little better if you have food in your stomach.”
Muffled words floated to my ears. “I don’t enjoy them.”
Oh my poor Callie. You don’t find joy in anything right now.
“You must eat. I know you don’t care for the taste but you must eat or you’ll starve to death.”
Angie confirmed she wasn’t in danger of that - yet - but she did need to eat more regularly.
I could have misheard.
But I think she mumbled, “Guess I’ll starve then.”
Chapter 13
ZADEON
Today, I stand in Arokh’s room.
In a mix of confusion, and no little admiration for my sibling’s incredible control, I marvel, “I don't understand how you can let them get so close to the nest.”
His wrist spines flash out and pulse.
Ahh. So it does bother him.
“See that line?” he growls, and he stabs a claw in the direction of the floor.
Scored into the tile is a jagged groove.
I nod.
“Angie invites whomever”—his voice gets a little tight on that last word, saying more than he ever could about how that makes him feel—“she wishes, but they do not come any closer to h
er nest than this line here.”
My brow raises a fraction. “And you are able to manage your instincts when they near it?”
He turns suddenly and looks like he’s about to crack his horns into the wall in frustration.
But then halts.
I’m certain that restraint costs him.
I can both sympathize with his aggression - and understand that he also can’t in good conscious break apart the very den her nest is built in.
A lesson I had to learn.
I offer an alternative by lowering my horns to him.
We crack them together.
That move briefly gains us the full attention of the women in the room. Just like female Rakhii then; hornclashes are attractive power displays.
I sigh. I wish Callie could find joy watching me do anything - even something as simple as this. She is so sad.
It hurts my hearts.
When we draw apart, Arokh catches where my gaze has zeroed in - his throat - and his chest puffs up in pleasure and pride. He raggedly groans, “Hickeees. You have to ask for them - the humans don’t know them like we do.”
I file this away for later too. Hickeees are lovebites. I yearn for the sharp strike of Callie’s lovebite.
It is an empty wish.
“Your female shows you great favor,” I congratulate him. I am not jealous of my brother.
But I am hopeful my human will heal enough to bite me and show all that she is half that satisfied with me as her male.
She doesn’t even touch me.
I should be content that I don’t spend my nights on the floor.
Instead, although I do have the privilege of sleeping on her bed - we never touch there either.
I do however, edge close enough to her when she is sleeping that I can feel her body heat.
And she can feel mine.
I believe she relaxes better once she senses my presence.
When I settle close, she isn’t always plagued as cruelly by nightmares. And I am close enough to her that it is her scent I fall asleep with in my nostrils, and this helps me rest easier too.
Sometimes, when she thrashes in a nightmare, her mane will slap me.
Sometimes, I lightly hold the strands between my fingers as I soothe her with words. And I pretend that I am holding her.
This too helps me rest.