by M. A. Church
Hamza forced his body to move. At least he thought he did.
“Good,” Neo grunted. “Just a little more. Yeah. There you go.” Neo stroked Hamza’s naked hip. “Perfect. Love you.”
Chapter Six – Neo
NEO SLIPPED out of bed and padded to the bathroom. “Visibility twenty percent.”
Light illuminated the room. Neo wet a washcloth with warm water, cleaned the oil from himself, then rinsed it out. Stepping into the bedroom, he requested lights in there to brighten to three percent. Hamza lay sprawled on his stomach, snoring softly. Sending a silent plea to the gods to keep Hamza asleep, Neo wiped him down as best he could. Hamza hated waking up… crusty.
Hamza didn’t so much as twitch.
Standing by the bed, he contemplated his snoring mate. Sighing, he pulled the sheet up and covered Hamza. Even though Neo was emotionally drained, he was in no way tired enough to sleep.
Shutting the bedroom door, he drifted into the living area. After checking to make sure Jolak’s door was closed, he collapsed on the couch. His mind jumped from one random image to the next, and some of those were things he did not want to revisit. He’d seen some heartbreaking things as a doctor, but the images from earlier were burned into his mind.
Would he ever forget them? Should he? What he’d witnessed was a turning point in Tah’Narian history. The last war had nearly ended them as a species. What would the repercussions of this one be?
Neo scrubbed his hands over his face. Maybe it was a tragic historic event, but fuck if he wanted the memories of living through it. Then add in his own personal fears revolving around the position he was soon to inherit, and it was all becoming more than he could stand.
Bottling his uncertainties would only affect his health—both mentally and physically. He knew this, and his worries seemed trivial compared to what Hamza was enduring. Nevertheless, they were there, lurking in the back of his mind—all tangled up with his own insecurities—and just waiting to pounce. He wanted to talk to his dabba and his dad.
Neo checked the time on his comm. It was late, but not that late. Before he could talk himself out of it, he commed his dabba.
On the third chime, Doc answered. “My young?”
Pressure built in Neo’s chest. “Dabba,” he breathed. “Gods, Dabba, I’m so glad to see you. I was worried about you. And Szin. And Dayo. And gods, just everyone.”
“We are all fine. Szin and Dayo came through the births without any complications.” Doc lapsed into technical jargon having to do with the births. Neo listened carefully. He could hear other voices in the background. When Doc finished, he paused. “And you? How are you? John told me he visited you for a short time.”
“I’m…. Are you alone?”
“Just a moment,” Doc said; the screen jumped as a door opened, shut, then the screen steadied. “I’m alone now.”
“Okay. Good.”
“I’m here also, Neo,” John added. “But I can leave if you need to speak to your dabba alone.”
“No, I’m glad you’re here too. I….” Neo swallowed repeatedly. “I’m fine. Worried about Hamza. And Jolak. I wish there was something more I could do to help Hamza. He’s not himself. One moment he’s lost in grief, and then the next, all there is… is this cold façade. I know he’s hurting—I honestly can’t imagine what he’s going through.”
“Of course he’s hurting,” John said. “But that’s not what’s worrying you, is it?”
“No. I’ve seen this look in his eyes.” Neo rubbed at his forehead. “It scares me. There’s this hatred, and that’s so not like him. But that’s not all. He’s overwhelmed—there’s so much to do, and I’m not even talking about when he assumes kingship. And by all that is holy, this is not about me, but I’m going to be King Consort soon, and that freaks me out in ways I can’t describe; which is stupid, because I’ve always known this was coming, but not like this.”
“Assuming such a role brings with it a monumental responsibility,” John said. “That’s scary. And no, no one thought it would be because Duran was murdered.”
Neo nodded. “I mean, I attended all the classes on protocol. Jolak’s grilled me on royal etiquette from the moment I opened my eyes as a young, seems like. But, having this knowledge isn’t the same as putting it into action. This is soon to be my life, and I feel completely unprepared. I’m nervous I’m going to screw it up.”
“And that right there is why you won’t,” John said. “You know the importance of such a position. Just being aware of the power you will hold means you won’t abuse it. There was a popular saying on Earth: With great power comes great responsibility. There’ll be mistakes made, there always are when a new role is assumed, but you have the perfect source to tap for help—Jolak.”
“Oh, I don’t think it would be a good idea to bother him while—”
“Bother him, Neo. Jolak and I are very good friends,” John said. “You know this. And, as his very good friend, I’m telling you he needs something to focus on. Helping you will help him.”
“Are you sure? I don’t want to add to his burden.”
“Oh Neo, you are never a burden,” John said. “Things are in an uproar right now, yes. We’ve had war declared on us, and that’s a frightening concept. More innocent people will die. There’s no way around that. We, as a people, have lost a beloved king. But for us, we’ve lost a male we knew personally and had a relationship with. Hamza lost his dabba, and Jolak lost his mate. There is nothing worse than that, but we will all get through this by relying on each other. We are family, either by blood, love, or by circumstance.”
“I do want to address something you said earlier about Hamza’s reaction to this situation. My young, he’s reacting as any Tah’Narian would. I’m not sure why this concerns you,” Doc said.
“Oh good grief, Doc, really? You’ve been mated to a human for how long now?” John pried the comm out of Doc’s hand. “And don’t flatten those ears of yours at me, either.”
Neo snorted. He knew that tone of voice. His dabba was in trouble.
“Neo? I want you to remember that neither Duran nor Jolak are human. You, on the other hand, do have human DNA—mine,” John said. “I raised you to understand my culture and to understand human perspective. Hamza, on the other hand, does not have human DNA. As your dabba said, he’s reacting like a Tah’Narian would. What Doc should have added was he’s reacting like a pure-blooded Tah’Narian. They were once a warrior race.”
“Once?” Doc growled. “My love, we still are! We are fearless. We are merciless. We are—”
“Hotheaded, and that’s putting it nicely.” John rolled his eyes. “Hamza is responding as his genetics demand. Do not look for human empathy, my young, because there is nothing human about your mate. Hamza is decidedly angry, and for a Tah’Narian, that can be deadly.”
“Empathy and genetics aside, the Ne Reyn have committed a grave offense.” Doc took a deep breath. “Our king was murdered. There will be repercussions, because if there are not, we, as a species, will look weak. No Tah’Narian will abide such a thing.”
“Dabba, I understand that, but I don’t want this to destroy the male I love. This hatred I see growing in Hamza, that’s not him.”
“Then remind him of the male you know him to be,” John urged. “Don’t let him get so wrapped up in his need for revenge that he loses sight of everything. Don’t let him become emotionally unavailable to you. And they can, all too easily.”
Doc grumbled.
John raised an eyebrow. “Want to talk about how Keyno reacted when he was kidnapped that time? And how he acted afterward? I’m sure Dale would just love to have a word with you about Tah’Narian machoism.”
Doc stopped grumbling.
“Exactly,” John said. “Anyway, Neo, keep after Hamza. Don’t let him shut you out.”
“I’m going to try my damndest.” One of Neo’s ears flicked toward the bedroom where Hamza slept. “Thank you both. I think I’m going to try and go to bed now. I
don’t know what the plan is for tomorrow, but I will find time to see the both of you. I’m hoping Hamza will take a moment to see Szin and Dayo too.”
“We’ll see you then,” Doc said. “Good night.”
“Good night,” John added. “We love you.”
“I love you both too. Good night.” Neo shut the comm off. He sat on the couch, replaying his dad’s words. Hamza might not have human DNA, but he was mated to a Tah’Narian who did, and there was no way Neo was going to lose Hamza to his thirst for vengeance.
The Ne Reyn needed to pay for what they did—because, by the gods, he was a Tah’Narian too—but he refused to lose Hamza to them.
Chapter Seven – Hamza
THE NEXT morning, he and Neo managed to talk Jolak into joining them for first meal, but Jolak retired to his bedroom shortly thereafter. Hamza wanted to encourage Jolak to spend more time with others, but Neo talked him out of it.
“Let him grieve.” Neo wiped down the narrow kitchen counters. “There’s nothing wrong with his wanting to be alone right now.”
Hamza leaned against the table, staring after Jolak. “But he’s closing himself off from everyone.” A soft sigh caught his attention, and he tore his gaze away, only to find Neo studying him, frowning. Hamza shifted restlessly. What was that about?
“Again, let him grieve at his own pace. If he completely disconnects from life, we’ll step in. I won’t let him, or anyone else, lose themselves because of this.”
Hamza’s tail twitched uneasily behind him. Neo’s words were heavy with meaning, but Hamza couldn’t decipher exactly what Neo was hinting at.
Neo dropped the hand towel on the counter and strolled to Hamza. He cupped his cheek and pressed a light kiss to Hamza’s lips. “I spoke to my dabba and dad last night after you went to bed.”
So, change of subject then. “How are they?”
“All is fine. I needed to touch base with them, that’s all.” Neo stepped back. “But before we both find ourselves buried in the responsibilities of the unit day, we should make a quick visit to Szin and Dayo. I’d like to see them.”
“As would I. Let me….” Hamza searched the living area until he found a communication cube. He spoke into it, leaving a message for Jolak. Once he was done, he left it on the kitchen table where Jolak would notice it. “There.”
“Good idea. Jolak can contact us if he needs to. Ready?”
“Yes.”
After arranging for certain guards to stay outside the quarters since Jolak was still inside, Hamza left for where Szin and Dayo had been moved. The coldness of the corridor latched onto him, trying to burrow inside his very being. He resisted the shiver that threatened to erupt. Why wasn’t Neo affected? How did he not notice the seeping chill?
His comm beeped incessantly as reports on building structure started to trickle in. His stomach roiled as he scanned them and confirmed receipt, but he didn’t do anything else in regards to what he read. He wouldn’t, not until certain events took place, and as soon as this visit was over, that was next on the unending list of things to do.
They progressed deeper underground until they finally came to where the emergency birthing suite had been set up. He nodded at one of the guards, who opened the door for him and Neo. They entered, Hamza walking behind Neo, and the first thing that caught his attention was the healthy wail of a hungry newborn. His gut tightened, and he pulled his battered emotional armor over him, even as he sent a quick mental thank you to the gods that all was well with his friends.
“Hey!” Szin waved from the bed, where he was feeding his young. Takeo sat on one side of Szin, while Dale, Chad, and Cielo sat in the middle of the birthing beds. “Come in! Come in. Glad you could….” The smile on Szin’s face slipped. “Hamza. I, ah, I wasn’t, ah….” Szin’s chin wobbled. “I’m so happy you’re here. And I am so, so very sorry.”
Hamza swallowed. Heavily. Pain flared briefly at Szin’s reaction. Neo grasped his hand and squeezed gently.
“Hamza?” Raiden stood at the head of Dayo’s bed, which was positioned several feet away from Szin’s.
Gods, why hadn’t he ever noticed how much Raiden bore a resemblance to Keyno and Duran? Pain flared again, but he ignored it. He was here to celebrate the births, not wallow in his grief.
“I want you to know how sorry I am too,” Dayo said quietly, moving his sleeping young in a rocking motion. “If there’s anything Raiden or I can do…?”
Hamza cleared his throat. “I… thank you. Both of you. I appreciate that.”
Raiden closed the distance between them. Hamza’s muscles locked. Fuck, if Raiden hugged him, he’d lose…. Instead, Raiden slammed a fist into Hamza’s chest. Hamza staggered back a step, dragging Neo with him. Raiden waited patiently. Then he bared his teeth. Adrenaline shot through Hamza’s system. Yes! This was exactly what he needed. A rumble escaped Hamza, and Raiden nodded, slapping his chest as if to say ‘come on.’
Neo dropped Hamza’s hand and moved out of the way. Dayo handed his sleeping young to Chad and slowly, carefully, eased to his feet with a grunt. He shuffled over to Raiden and Hamza. Growling fiercely, he too hit Hamza in the chest, albeit more lightly.
“What the hell?” Szin asked.
Hamza stepped back up and hit Raiden in his chest, and then turned to Dayo. Dayo frantically shook his head and pointed at his stomach. Hamza nodded gravely and gently tapped Dayo on the shoulder. Relief flashed across Dayo’s face. The three turned to Takeo. Takeo snorted, but climbed to his feet, and prowled forward to join the group. Neo slipped into his seat.
“You’re not going to—” Dale waved his hand at the males in the middle of the room.
“Hell no. I can fire a phaser as well as the next person, but most of my time was spent learning less, shall we say, violent endeavors.”
Hamza tossed a grin over his shoulder at Neo.
“Stop grinning at me. You know it’s true. Anyway, Hamza’s the warrior, and I’m the one trained to battle through intergalactic meetings, banquets, and parties… plus smoothing relations between us and other species.”
“Swear to God, you sounded like Jolak,” Dale said.
Cielo laughed loudly.
Neo winked. “I should. Who do you think taught me?”
Raiden, Takeo, Hamza, and Dayo exchanged blows—but the ones aimed at Dayo were much, much gentler.
Eyeing the males, Dale leaned back in his chair, one leg crossed over the other. “Well now, this looks vaguely familiar.”
“Dad?” Szin’s eyes widened as he watched.
“Doesn’t it, though? Brings back memories, that’s for sure.” Chad rocked the young. “Is this like some sort of genetic memory type thing, you think, Dale?”
“Or some stupid testosterone type of thing?” Szin asked.
“It’s a Tah’Narian type thing,” Dale reassured, patting Szin on the knee. “It’s okay, sweetie.”
Hamza agreed heartily.
Szin huffed. “Number one: I don’t feel the urge to climb out of this bed right after giving birth and beating on somebody, and even though I don’t look it, I am a Tah’Narian, so that doesn’t fly. Number two: Takeo wasn’t birthed to Tah’Narians, so, again, what the hell?”
Dale shrugged. “Cielo has Tah’Narian DNA, remember? Then add in that Ti is Onfre, and Takeo also was birthed by Cielo, who is—”
“One badassed motherfucker,” Chad finished, grinning at Cielo. “Both of them are.”
Cielo smirked at the compliment. “Yah?”
“Shut up.” Dale elbowed Cielo. “You know you are.”
“Yah.” Smugly, Cielo crossed his arms over his chest, chin lifted.
Tails slithered madly on the floor, and ears were laid low. The four snarled and hissed. Hamza threw his head back and roared. That felt really, really good.
“Hey, now!” Dayo pointed a finger at Hamza. “Don’t wake my young, or I will kick your ass.”
“Sorry, sorry!” Worried, Hamza peered over his shoulder at the newborn young. �
�Did I…?” Neo shook his head. Relieved, Hamza grinned, turned, and hit Takeo again. More growls and hissing commenced, minus anymore roaring.
“I still say it’s a testosterone type of thing, and that they’ve lost their damn minds,” Szin griped.
“I had the same thought the first time I saw such a demonstration,” Dale said. “Except it was Keyno and Gibor.”
“Hell yeah. And oddly enough, it had to do with a birthing suite and a young.” Chad snickered. “I wonder if now we get a run down on all their accomplishments as—”
“Warriors. We are warriors! The most feared warriors known in the universe!”
“And there it is.” Dale rolled his eyes at Raiden’s exclamation. “Although I don’t know if I’d say they were the most—”
“Hush, Dad.” Szin licked his lips. “This is hot. Look at my mate all riled up, muscles bulging, and hot damn, he’s flashing his fangs, and… and wow.”
Dale raised an eyebrow. “Hmmm. I wonder if you’re growing your surculas back already.”
“Daaaad!”
“Right?” Chad choked out a laugh. “Oh man, that was something. Fun times.”
“It was something, all right,” Dale remarked. “I think they’re settling down now.”
“Good thing no one but us saw all this,” Chad mused.
“Oh? Why?” Szin asked.
“He’s referring to the law which says anybody who hits a Tah’Narian royal gets a death sentence. The rule is for outsiders,” Dale said. “Everybody in that group is either a descendent of a royal or mated to one.”
Chad pursed his lips. “Gibor wasn’t.”
“Totally different thing. He was Keyno’s best friend, and it was done as a way to distract each other while they were readying themselves for the coming battle at the time—entering the birthing suite,” Dale said. “It wasn’t done as a threat to Keyno. It was nothing more than a stress release.”
Muscular arms wrapped around Hamza, tugging him close. Other bodies pressed close and arms enclosed him. Hamza tried to peer through a curtain of white hair—hair that was as long and white as his. “Those females will pay. I give you my word.”