by Vi Voxley
"As it is," she continued. "You're right. It's a choice whether or not to accept what fate brings you, and I..."
She hesitated, looking from one to the other. Havoc expected the words "I do not" to pass her lips and clearly so did Dana, but they didn't come. Instead, she went on:
"I am not sure. I'm sorry. This is not what you want to hear. I know you have built your lives around these matches. I just don't see us working, being who we are. This is all too much for me. This was going to be my last trip with the Sanguine. I was going to leave this all behind. There is a nice little house waiting for me somewhere far away from here and now..."
The room settled into a long silence. Dana's blue eyes were flicking from one to the other, searching their faces for any reaction. Chase reacted exactly the way Havoc had predicted he would. The other warlord had crossed his arms across his wide chest, appearing to contemplate, when in truth Havoc already saw the stubborn frown on his lips.
As for himself, Havoc considered the matter in a different way.
It had taken him a lot of time to even consider, to even risk replacing Hannah's memory with someone. To try and live with the guilt he felt and to move forward, instead of remaining in stasis with his memories as his only solace and crutch at the same time.
Now, to hear his new fated was possibly not interested in the bond, Havoc could see that it might have been a mistake to assume there would be another chance for him.
The bonds were curious like that. They weren't binding, exactly. There was no compulsory part of them, simply because mostly the fated couple couldn't spend one moment without each other. It was also true that Havoc felt that desire in him, the need to always be close to Dana, however that alone could not be enough.
There had to be willing hearts. There had to be a "Yes, I want this" for it to work.
It was clear to him that Dana wasn't just being melodramatic. After all, the ambassador's reputation was known. He didn't know why, yet, but there was an underlying reason to her actions and desire. Whatever they were, they were strong enough to stay with Dana through all the long years of doing her job.
"It's not that simple," Chase said finally.
Both of them looked at him, surprised. Havoc hand moved to the handle of his sword. He knew how much Chase had wanted to finally find his fated. The implications of not letting Dana go were severe, however.
She was Havoc’s fated, too. There was no way he'd let Chase keep her for his own, or keep her against her will even more so.
"Havoc is right," Chase admitted, raising his golden blue eyes to them. "It's a choice, of course. I would say it's a chance as well. A real choice can only be made when you know what you're choosing to give up and none of us do."
"That might be difficult to amend," Dana said carefully. "I need to leave soon. The Sanguine will not wait for anyone, not even me. The females who don't find their mates during the festival will not want to stay."
"Two days," Chase said, nodding. "Not ideal, but it's the best we can do. I say you stay with us, here. If you still want to go when the Sanguine embarks on the journey back, you're free to leave."
"Am I not free to leave now?" Dana asked with a forced laugh, a hint of a warning in her blue eyes.
Chase's servants chose that moment to enter with food and drinks. Over their bustling bodies, Havoc watched the other warlord and their fated. The truthful answer was somewhere in between. Dana was free to leave. And they were free to follow her to the ends of the galaxy if need be.
7
Dana
Life had, in a word, a terrible sense of humor.
Dana had always been convinced of that, ever since she took the job of the Sanguine's ambassador. In her younger days, she'd just gone along with the flow and generally told life to mind its own business and she would do the same.
That, of course, was the problem there. Life always won. It had all the aces up its sleeve.
I mean, what the hell. This is too unreal. Not just that, it's just... unfair.
She didn't even know who it was the most unfair to. Her? Well, she was free to leave, no matter what the warlords or anyone said. They had the power to keep her on Octava, but Dana doubted they would.
She had to admit, though, that leaving didn't have the same cheerful ring as before. A part of her was already settling in and Dana didn't like it. Being out of control wasn't the position she wanted to be in, again.
The warlords, then? She was aware how easy it would have been for her to break their hearts. She might have already.
After all, Dana knew them by reputation as well as they knew her. She hadn't just landed the two hottest hunks on the planet, Havoc and Chase were also the ones the Gargons most actively rooted for to find happiness. The protectors of their people.
She couldn't imagine what kind of social pressure that was, what kind of responsibility. And now, instead of being the wind underneath their wings, she was contemplating dragging them down with her.
There were others, too.
Isabel, for one. Dana needed to find her soon and make sure the girl was okay. The way her hand had slipped from hers hadn't been a good sign. Women held grudges.
Dana couldn't even blame her. Isabel had come there with an open heart, unlike her. And she saw her dreams being crushed right before her very eyes. Not just once, twice.
Above everyone else, Dana thought of Sean. Her son was her light, her world. She had to make the right decision for him as well as her.
The answer seemed obvious. Everything she'd heard about them told Dana that Havoc and Chase weren't just amazing, they were everything she'd ever wished for, in a way. Strong, solid men with honor and devotion written in their every action.
Not to mention they were drop-dead hot. She couldn't get past that. Years of shutting herself off from all relationships was back with a vengeance.
The warlords in front of her exuded sexual power as well as actual might and Dana was drawn to it like a bee to flowers. Her entire body hadn't stopped feeling the searing lust they'd instilled in her with just one look, not for one second during the whole affair. It wasn’t a feeling she could give into. Not before thinking it through, at least.
She had come along, thinking she'd tell them "no" outright, like ripping off a Band-Aid. Better to be quick and be done with it, instead of dragging out the pain by removing it slowly. Now, Chase's words had made doubt bloom in her heart. It made sense and sense was all Dana had in the face of things like blinding desire, a chance at true happiness and her son's well-being.
It was a treacherous, hopeless doubt. It resembled the feelings of the women aboard her ship so much it was uncomfortable. She didn't want to throw herself headlong into a commitment that hadn't been tested. That would have been stupid.
To throw it all away without ever giving it a go was just as bad, though.
When the servants had finished laying everything out on the table and left, Dana got her first look at the feast. She nearly drooled. If there was one thing the Gargons did well, other than fighting, it was eating.
As the ambassador of the Sanguine, Dana had been all over the many territories of CAS. Not all Terran women lived on Terra anymore, after all. And there were half-breeds, children of those who had once traveled to the stars and mated with the many alien species. As far as food went, Octava was definitely her favorite.
The warlords saw her ogling at the table, no doubt.
"Go ahead," Chase said. "It's all for you."
That was a little excessive, considering there were literally piles of it. Sweet and sour yellow fruits, small cakes that would melt on her tongue, meat of exotic animals she couldn't even imagine that went wonderfully with the sauce made of the yellow fruits...
If I stayed here, I'd get so fat.
"Now," Chase said, sitting down across from Dana, with Havoc reluctantly following his lead.
In Dana's mind, it was amazing they could even move in those dark-as-night armors. They were a lot more flexible than they ga
ve away, although she could see that Havoc's wasn't exactly made for agility.
Neither one of them seemed hungry, so Dana just shrugged and dug in. it wasn't like they were going to drug her and stick her in some tower.
She'd asked about that on her very first trip to Octava, or at least something along those lines. The protection of the women aboard the Sanguine was very important to her. She’d been told in no uncertain terms that no woman, no fated, of a Gargon would ever come to any harm.
Chase hesitated for a second.
Before, there had been sad bitterness in his voice. Now, the easy way with which he carried himself was back and Dana was glad for it. She liked him much better when he wasn't glaring at her.
She took a big bite out of the first pastry she could reach and naturally Chase chose that moment to start talking again.
"Answer my question," he prompted, with a smile this time instead of a frown.
"Which question?" she asked, trying not to speak with her mouth full.
"Will you give this a chance?" Havoc asked instead of Chase, surprising the other warlord if his astonished expression was anything to go by.
"I–" Dana began. "This is hard to explain."
You move in the opposite direction through life compared to me. The bonds give you the answer and then you start asking questions. I want to ask the questions first and let the answer be born of that.
"I'm not sure this will work," she said diplomatically.
"You already said that," Chase commented, his deep voice sending shivers down Dana's spine.
The warlord leaned forward, keeping Dana's gaze locked with his.
"Give us a good reason. A real reason as to why you've come here so many times and never saw even a possibility for your own happiness."
"I don't think you'd like the answer," she opted at last, thinking that was as close as she was going to get to the truth with the warlords.
"We are your fated," Havoc said as though it was the simplest truth in all existence. "There is nothing you could say that we wouldn't accept."
She’d noticed the way they’d been glaring at one another earlier. For now, it seemed that the warlords had decided to present a united front to her, but she got the feeling that they weren’t entirely friendly with one another. Another obstacle, not exactly encouraging.
"Are you sure?" Dana asked.
Chase and Havoc didn't reply to the obvious. She sighed, leaning back on the sofa and taking a chalice with her.
Story time.
"It has to do with Sean. He is the reason for everything in my life, I suppose," she said.
Both warlords growled low at the back of their throats like one. It was like talking to two very big and very upset dogs.
"Sean is my son," Dana elaborated quickly, seeing the way all tension immediately washed away from the men.
She also saw the way their eyes lit up, exactly as she'd feared. The fact that she already had a son spoke volumes to them. It meant she was capable of having children, which was all the Gargons warriors thought of, after all. As far as Dana was concerned, anyway.
She pushed those thoughts away. So far, the warlords had been nothing but nice and she might as well give them the answer they wanted.
"Sean's father was a… difficult man," she began. "I was young when I met him and I thought bad boys were cool. It's a Terran thing, at least I dearly hope so.
“Thinking back, I should have known better, because there were warning signs. When we went out, he ordered for me, told me what to wear. Ryan decided everything. Can you imagine back then I thought it was romantic of him to care? Then it got bad."
The curse of women. We can make everything romantic in our heads if we want to.
"If he hurt you–" Havoc growled, right on cue and Dana chuckled a little, feeling more at ease despite herself.
"Nothing like that," she said, although there was a vicious temptation in her heart to take him up on his implied offer.
It was all too natural, after all. Havoc was a beast of a man, magnificent and powerful. She could just imagine taking him back to Terra with her, showing up at Ryan's doorstep and enjoying the look on his face when she told him that the seven feet of pure muscle was her fated.
Havoc had made braver men soil themselves in battle, she could bet.
She took a deep breath. It wasn't good to dwell on the hatred she felt towards Ryan. That, and only that, gave power to her venomous ex and showed how very little distance she'd managed to put between them in all the years she hadn't seen him.
To hate him is to remember him. I need to be free.
She stifled the growing desire in her heart to actually be rid of her past. If she started a new life on Octava, who on Terra would know or care? A few people would be surprised and Ryan no doubt would hear.
Dana couldn't imagine how he would come to Octava to claim his son.
"Ryan never hurt us but there are days when I think he might have if I had not left at the right time," Dana continued with a sigh. "When I got pregnant, he was at the top of the world. Looking after me in all the ways, never leaving my side, worrying like crazy."
She could see the warlords could relate to that, but she hadn't gotten to the punchline yet.
"That was all good. I know you guys think the same. Only after I gave birth I realized we were nothing but trophies to him. I was just a vessel, a womb to him.
“One of his friends confessed that he'd picked me based on some fucked-up scale. Young enough, pretty enough, healthy enough.
"It was even worse with Sean. Ryan used his own child as some kind of a proof he was man enough and made both of us act these little parts in his world. I couldn't let him do that to us. Not to me and definitely not to my son."
Chase and Havoc were no longer smiling and nodding along.
Kudos to you guys.
Dana had been trying to avoid that, knowing it was coming and then the wave of bad memories washed over her. The moment that had tipped the cup of her patience over returned at the head of them.
She'd come home, only to be greeted by the howling crying of her son somewhere in the house. Terrified, Dana ran upstairs to look for him, thinking he'd gotten hurt. There she stumbled across Ryan, reading a book as though he was deaf to the screams of terror.
Dana remembered the moment vividly. It had seemed unreal to her that someone could listen to their own child suffer like that.
"Where is he?" she'd yelled at Ryan, seeing the man give her a poisonous look. "What did you do to Sean!?"
"Don't you raise your fucking voice with me," Ryan had snapped, slamming the book shut. "This is where the boy gets his cheek from. You don't teach my son to talk back to me! I am his father! You both need to learn some respect."
"Where?" Dana had growled at him, not listening.
"In the closet," Ryan said as though it was the most natural thing in the world. "He was barking back at me, saying he didn't want to go to football practice like all the other boys. I disciplined him. Hey, don't walk away from me when I'm talking to you–"
Dana hadn't listened. She'd run to the coat closet, turned the key blessedly still in the keyhole and ripped the door open with such force her hand hurt. Sean ran to her arms, shaking like a leaf, hyperventilating, barely able to breathe. She couldn't imagine what it was like to be imprisoned in a claustrophobic dark space as a four-year-old.
She'd walked out of the house and out on Ryan that very moment. He'd come after them, screaming and shaking his fists. For a moment, Dana had feared he'd take them back in with force.
"Don't you fucking dare," she had hissed at him, turning back for a second on the street. "If you lay a hand on me or Sean, I will scream until my voice is hoarse and every neighbor will hear. I'll have you locked up for child abuse. If you ever come near us again or try to take Sean, I'll make you regret it."
That was the last either of them had seen Ryan.
"And the worst part was that I had stayed for so long. I kept hoping it would p
ass," she finished.
She looked the warlords in the eye.
"I hope you see my point now. It's not you. It's us. I won’t let anything happen to my son again."
8
Chase
It was even worse than he could have imagined.
Of all the things he'd expected Dana to say, it definitely wasn't that.
Her story was simply unbelievable to Chase, unfathomable even. As a Gargon warrior, Chase was naturally inclined to think his fated and their children were the most important part of his life. In that, all Gargon men were the same.
They all longed to provide, but above all - to protect. To treat their own fated and child like that... His fists shook as Chase contemplated finding Dana's ex and feeding his foul words back to him in the form of a blade.
He'd expected Dana to say she didn't believe in the bonds – easy to refute.
Perhaps that the fact there were two males freaked her out – it had happened to several Terran females and the first ones had been pretty stunned.
Or that she didn't want to leave her job, her life, Terra.
Anything that he could have argued against.
The thing was, Chase understood. Listening to Dana speak, wondering if she herself understood how her voice gained emotion with every word she said, he got why. The ambassador of Sanguine had always kept herself out of the batch of potential brides and now they knew the reason for it. One look at Havoc confirmed that the other warlord had come to a similar conclusion.
They were facing something they couldn't argue with. Time might have healed Dana's concerns about them and the bond, yet time was the one thing the Gargons didn't have.
"I'm sorry for hurting you," Dana said very quietly.
He looked up, seeing her sitting on the sofa with her shoulders slumped and all life gone out of her.