by Lea Linnett
“You can hold it a little tighter than that. You just want to keep your arm out of the way. Now, place the tips of your fingers on the string and try drawing, but don’t let go.”
“Why is this?”
“You’ll damage it. Come on. And keep your thumb out of the way.”
The levekk drew back the string, the muscles of his arms flexing, and Bree held her breath. His was definitely not the body of a scientist. His chest and shoulders could have been carved from moving stone, the muscle toned as if from years of hard labor, and the glittering of his scales across his body was… beautiful. Like a golden statue.
He’d felt like a statue when she landed in his arms that first day, his huge body cradling her, and the memory made her pulse flutter.
“This is good?”
Bree flushed. “Um, yeah. Make sure you keep your bow hand bent, so you don’t hit it.” She picked up an arrow. “Okay, gently relax the string, nock your arrow, and then you can try shooting for real.”
Her heart thumped as he did so, suddenly aware of so many little things she’d been ignoring—the sureness of his hands, the chiseled lines of his body as he took aim, the sharpness of his jawline.
Finally, he stood straight-backed and ready, the bow perfectly steady in his grip.
“Aim for the center and we’ll adjust from there,” she said breathlessly, stepping back to give him room and shaking the whirl of thoughts from her head.
Thwack! Bang!
Marek hissed with pain as the bowstring smacked into his arm. Bree winced and watch the arrow fly wide, where it slammed into the metal edge of the target and bounced onto the floor.
The alien rubbed at his arm, his look of betrayal so potent that she had to hold back a laugh. “I told you to keep that elbow dropped out of the way.”
“It is more dangerous than I expected.”
“It’s a weapon,” she said with a shrug. “There’s a lot of energy driving that arrow forward. Do you want to get something with long sleeves?”
“No. I have suffered worse injuries,” he said, frowning at the bow.
Bree’s eyes narrowed. He kept saying things like that. Things that made her wonder just what kind of life this scientist had led. The levekk was mysterious, and although that always made the girls back home swoon, to Bree, it signaled danger. One didn’t survive the wilderness by walking blindly into unsafe territory.
Marek was watching her again, as if he were trying to puzzle her out just like she was. “Show me again?” he asked, his deep voice turning silky.
“Okay.” She stepped up so they were standing chest to chest and handed him an arrow. “Draw.”
His fingers grazed hers as he took it, making her skin tingle. His hands were tough and callused, an intriguing contrast to the smooth scales on the backs of his hands, which glistened like polished metal in the light. When he drew back to his full height, he towered over her, but rather than threatened, Bree felt awed.
“You’re gripping the bow too hard again,” she corrected softly, repositioning his hand. “And keep this rotated out if you want to avoid getting welts.” She eyed the smaller scales on the inside of his arm, the gold turning gray where he’d bruised it. “Trust me, that shit hurts.”
They were standing so close that she could have drawn the bow herself, and when she met his eye, she found him studying her again, his eyes half-lidded.
She tore her gaze away and stepped back, clearing her throat. “Try again.”
He nodded, staring down the target with the same intensity with which he had looked at her. Bree tried to remain critical as she watched his form, but the rush of blood in her ears was as distracting as the levekk as he took aim.
Thock!
The arrow hit the target this time, sinking in deep, and Bree smiled. “Good job. Go again, get a rhythm.” But as he reached for another arrow, she couldn’t help saying, “It’s a good thing you don’t have those claws like Urek. You might cut through the string.”
She saw the moment he tensed, his easy expression hardening, and for a moment, she regretted saying anything. But her curiosity still gnawed at her.
“It is… fortunate,” Marek said hesitantly, before drawing back and letting another arrow fly. This time, it just missed the golden inner ring.
“Nice.” She worried at her lip. “Can I ask why you two look so different? I know, it’s probably complicated, but Urek is your brother, right?”
Marek was silent long enough to loose another arrow, which sank in beside the previous one. Bree didn’t think he would answer, with the way he avoided her eye, but then he murmured, “…Urek and I had different fathers. Urek’s was a levekk trader based on CL-6. Mine was…”
“Human?”
His eyes widened. “You know this?”
“I wondered.” She smiled apologetically. “It seemed… strange, that you were so interested in my people. That you’d studied us.”
“It is… not something that should have been possible for me.”
“Why?”
“Because of what I am,” he said. “My blood is tainted, and that makes me as low as sub-species to my people. Lower, even, on this planet.” At her questioning look, he continued, “CL-32—Earth—has laws about such unions. Levekk and sub-species must not unite, and their offspring…” He shrugged. “They tend to disappear if discovered.”
“But not you?”
“I was not born here. On other planets, such unions are only distasteful, not illegal. And my mother was a powerful female. Because of her, I had a normal levekk adolescence with Urek. Still, she risked much when she left Urek’s father for my own.”
Bree’s eyes widened. She didn’t know Urek’s father, but if he was anything like Urek… “He didn’t hurt her, right?” she asked, and Marek shook his head.
“No. In their world, attacks are made through business, and my mother had much more skill in such things. She was… intimidating.”
“She sounds amazing. It must have taken a lot of guts to have a human as her partner when so many would look down on her for it.”
“It is more common than you might think,” Marek said carefully. “CL-32 is known for its human scandals.”
Bree didn’t know what to make of that. It was still strange, in some ways, to think of the crazy lives other humans might be leading compared to her own people’s. They lived on the same planet, but their experiences could not be more different.
“How did your parents meet?” she asked, genuinely curious.
“They met when my mother visited Krennek Var—a trading outpost near this planet—for business. My father was a laborer,” he admitted hesitantly. “He moved stock for her business. Usually, their paths would not cross, and my mother would not linger, but a business mishap stranded her there. In that time, they fell in love. He followed her back to CL-6, she dissolved things with Urek’s father, and a little while later… they had me.”
Bree smiled. “So they were thrown together by chance, and he wooed her? That’s kind of sweet,” she said. Marek chuckled.
“This is how they described it. My mother would say he found her heart through her stomach—a human phrase, yes? He would cook sweet things for her every day until she asked him to stop. Our bodies are not suited to such frequent meals.”
He was staring at the arrow in his hand while he spoke, his brow pinched, and his wistful tone was so familiar that it made Bree’s heart clench. “Are they… still around?” she asked.
“No. My mother passed years ago, and my father…” He fell silent, his lips thinning. “He is gone, as well.”
“I’m sorry.”
“No, it is… in the past.” He bit his lip. “It is the reason I am here. My mother raised me as levekk. I was taught at home with Urek, and when I came of age, I attended a levekk university on CL-6. That was an opportunity I should not have had.”
“Because you have human blood?” Bree asked. “That’s…”
“It is a deterrent,” he said flatly, fitt
ing another arrow, “to stop levekk from dirtying their bloodline. They know that any hybrid child will be treated as a human. Many cannot bear that shame, and so hybrids are rare.”
“That’s gross.”
“It is the way of my world.”
Bree barely noticed as he drew back on the bow again and fired, her brows furrowed. It sounded like an awful world, and one that she never wanted her people to be a part of. Sure, her own village wasn’t perfect, but everyone had a role, and a reason to be valued. No one was wasted, and no one was less. “What happened, after you lost your mother?” she asked.
Marek paused in the middle of nocking his final arrow, his blue-violet eyes eclipsed by shadow. “I lost everything. Only Urek could inherit her credits, and the teachers and connections I valued did not remain after her death. I was… alone.”
“What did you do?”
“I looked for work. It is difficult, when the levekk do not see you and the sub-species fear you. I cleaned rooms in a wayhouse thanks to one cicarian’s kindness in exchange for a bed. Then, Urek contacted me,” Marek said with a sigh. “Our mother once told him to look out for me. His answer was to offer me a job as a laborer here on CL-32—Earth.”
“As a laborer?” Bree asked, her gaze on Marek’s face as he took aim. “Wait. Doesn’t that mean…?”
Thunk!
He’d hit the target dead center.
“It means that I work in the mine,” he said quietly. “It means that I am only here upstairs because you arrived, and that I have lied to you about my intentions.”
Bree frowned. “Your intentions?”
“I am not karanaan. I am not even levekk, and there is little I can do to help you in this place.” His rough brow creased. “I agreed to speak with you because Urek offered me something that I cannot refuse.”
“And what’s that?”
“My old life. Or, a version of it. When I discover the location of your people, Urek will allow me to live above the surface permanently. He will give me access to my research for longer than an occasional night.”
Bree’s eyes widened, her skin prickling as he stepped toward her.
“I have used you,” he murmured. “And for that… I am sorry.”
11
Marek’s breath caught in his throat as he waited for Bree’s reply, unsure what to even expect.
He hadn’t intended to bare himself so fully, but once he began the story of his childhood, the rest had followed all too naturally. His past, his present, and his future were all shaped by the choice his parents had made, and now, that same choice shaped this human’s life. Knowing that, he couldn’t bring himself to keep lying to her.
When they went to the underground, the idea of Bree seeing the reality behind his levekk facade had terrified him, but now, he saw that it was necessary. She didn’t come from his world, and she didn’t look upon him with the same disgust and fear as his own kin, be they levekk or sub-species. Sometimes, she even seemed to be in awe of him.
He didn’t deserve to be looked upon with that kind of appreciation. She needed to know the truth of what he was, of how he scrabbled at Urek’s feet and lied for the scraps of a life he coveted. She needed to understand that he could never be her ally, no matter how often he’d begun to wish he could be.
But when Bree’s dark eyes finally met his own, they held none of the hurt that he’d expected. Instead, her lips twisted into a smile as she said with a shrug, “I knew that.”
He blinked down at her, his grip on the bow turning lax. “You did?”
“Yeah,” she said. “I mean, not all that about Urek, but I knew what you wanted from me. I knew there had to be some reason you were doing as he asked. In a way… I’m kind of glad he’s bribing you. Lets me know you’re not like him and Peris.”
“You cannot think that, Bree. You cannot trust me,” he insisted, the words burning his tongue. “I am like them.”
He was throwing out all of his hard work, and ruining his chances with Urek, but truthfully, the lies wore on him. It did not feel right to trick and manipulate this human for Urek’s unknown goals. From his talks with Bree, he’d gathered that her people just wanted to defend themselves, not wage war. And if there was no threat of an attack, then why were they keeping her?
Did it even matter? He was supposed to be in this for himself. He had been so close to getting back the life he wanted, and now he was putting that opportunity in jeopardy.
“You’re not like them,” Bree said quietly, snapping him back to focus. “You’re apologizing for using me when you haven’t even been given a choice, really. I think that makes you a whole lot better than Urek.”
Marek frowned, but her words sent a rush of warmth through him. Relief? Release? Or something else? He couldn’t put his finger on it, and Bree didn’t give him time.
“You want to shoot another round?” she asked, her dark eyes twinkling as she gestured at the bow.
Marek blinked down at her in dismay, speechless, but when she raised an eyebrow expectantly, he nodded. A bright smile broke out on Bree’s face, and she marched down to the target to retrieve their arrows.
The time slipped by as they shot arrows and talked, and after the shock of their prior conversation wore off, Marek came to find that he was enjoying himself. There was no clinical observation room, no guard outside, and Bree’s entire manner relaxed when she had the bow in hand, her cheeks pink with excitement.
Her skill with the weapon also made her more intriguing than Marek had ever found any female.
It completed her. Her dark eyes sharpened with a laser focus, her lithe body moving confidently into patterns that were no doubt as familiar to her as breathing. And with the tight bodysuit clinging to her body instead of her bulky furs, Marek could appreciate every inch of the strength her life out in the wilderness had earned her. The elastic fibers clung to her skin, showing off the way her back arched, the delicate but powerful flex of her muscles as she drew back on the bow, and the statuesque line of her body as she released.
He had thought her features pleasing from the moment he saw her, but now he found her absolutely alluring.
And that was not a thought he was supposed to have.
Marek had long ago accepted that romance and sex would remain foreign to him outside of the occasional levekk female looking to rebel for one anonymous night. To the levekk, he was a danger to their reputation. To sub-species, he was an anomaly at best and an enemy at worst.
But he aspired to be levekk. Every waking moment of his life had been spent in pursuit of that, and it was dear to him even now. And if he was levekk, then Bree was off-limits. He could not appreciate her features, or delight in her conversation. He could not get away with the sly glances that other levekk indulged in.
If he was levekk, he had to behave flawlessly, but it was not so easy to remember that as he packed away the bow and followed Bree out of the gym, her hips swaying enticingly before him.
“Next time, you should show me some of the machines,” she said, the smile still stuck on her face. It suited her.
“You grow bored of the bow, already?” he teased.
“No.” She paused in the hallway, her gaze lowered. “I appreciate that more than you can imagine.”
His chest warmed. The bow was supposed to be a gift in name only, a means to an end, but when he saw the happiness in her eyes, he couldn’t keep telling himself that.
The mood between them now was strangely light, as if they weren’t enemies trapped together by circumstance. They almost felt like friends, and the sensation was addictive. He found himself moving to take her by the arm again, another teasing jibe waiting on his tongue as she looked up at him through her eyelashes.
“Marek!”
He froze, his face falling, and his first instinct was to step between Bree and his brother as Urek appeared at the end of the hall.
“What is it?” he asked, his brain switching over to Levekk Trade just in time.
“What is going on here
?” Urek snarled, and Marek raised a hand.
“Urek—”
“Excursions around the compound? Into the mine? And now exercise?”
“She can’t be locked in a room all the time,” Marek said. “I told you she needed more freedom.”
“And I told you no more adventures around the mine,” Urek snarled. “I made it clear that the human would go nowhere without Peris’ supervision.”
“Peris is detrimental to—”
“You lied, Marek.”
Marek’s mouth snapped shut as Urek stepped closer, his brother’s enraged expression filling his vision. Beside him, he saw Bree tense, but Urek ignored her.
“I don’t think you understand the gravity of what I’m trusting you with,” Urek said. “Or what I’m offering you. This is a chance for you to better yourself, little brother, but you still need to earn it. I need to know I can trust you, and these lies…”
“Of course I understand,” Marek insisted, “but this is the only way. The human withers in that room, Urek. She will waste away, and then there will be no chance of getting what you want.”
It pained him to speak of her like she wasn’t standing right there, and it hurt even more to speak so callously, even though she could not understand their language. But he had no choice. He often felt like he had no choice, these days.
Urek finally looked past him, glaring at Bree. To Marek’s surprise, she stood firm beneath his gaze, her own eyes blazing and her small hands clenched into fists.
“Maybe she needs some hardship,” said Urek. “I think all this coddling is making her overconfident.”
“Do not undo my work,” Marek said, the daring words arcing through him like electricity, as if Bree’s show of strength had been the thing to energize him. “Or you will never get the results you are looking for.”
“What results?” Urek scoffed. “I’m beginning to think that you have no resu—”
His brother abruptly winced, a hand flying up to his delicate internal ear and the ever-present earpiece attached there. He listened for a moment, before scoffing out a dismissive reply, and then turned his attention back to Marek.