by Renee Rose
“What do we know about Wark?” We turn to each other, unsure of what to do.
“We know nothing of them. Just that they are a race rumored to live far away, a neutral race so far, but one who despise slavery and those who engage in it. Supposed to be geniuses. If they are real.”
“We are real.” Marshan smiles, faintly. “I can promise you that.” He touches his face. “And slavery is something we despise, as we believe in freedom for all beings.”
“We need Zander’s advice. Call him on the comm.”
But we cannot reach our king. He is too far and the solar flares are blocking transmissions home. “We must make this decision ourselves.” I look at Domm. “And now.”
Domm looks at me. “You trust her? Because I trust you.”
I nod. “I do.” I look at Taisha and give her a smile. “Implicitly.”
Domm glances around our grouping: At me, at the others, at Taisha. His gaze locks on Mirelle, who is not just his team member, but his mate. His love. The one he’s bonded to. I can only imagine the confusion going through his brain right now, as he must make a decision that involves the safety of not just us on this craft, but all of Zandia, now and in the future.
I’ve told him what I can. I nod, to give him encouragement.
He takes a deep breath. He looks at Marshan. He raises a fist with his arm bent at the elbow in the formal Zandian greeting. “We will give you safe passage. Swear you are our ally now and in the future.”
Marshan raises his fist in the same gesture. “I swear it.”
“Let’s get off this star-forsaken planet, then.” Domm gestures toward the hatch.
I take the Wark by the shoulder and escort him in.
“Now we must leave this airspace immediately.” Tarak’s voice is urgent. He acknowledges our new passenger with a vague nod. “We cannot afford to be seen.”
“Do it. Now,” I say.
The ship hangs and then lurches and my body gets the feeling of collapsing into a black hole and expanding into a column of light at the same time. A split second we’re millions of light years away.
When we’re safely away from Romon-3, Domm looks at me. “It seems we have a new ally against Ocretia.”
“Yes.” I look over at Taisha, strapped in her seat beside Marshan, engaging him in conversation.
Domm’s eyes look deep and tired, and I can tell he’s thinking about what he will tell our king—this odd and extraordinary turn of events.
But I know we did the right thing. I can see it on Taisha’s face, when she she looks across the ship at me.
She trusts in this intuition of her soothsayer, Leylah. Possesses a human intuition of her own, much like our queen. Whatever skills lurk in her frail human body, make her miraculous. It strikes me all at once what a genius King Zander is. How did he first sense that humans could bring Zandia such gifts? That by partnering with their species, we could achieve so much more than we could alone?
I feel such a rush of emotions that I list, dizzy for a moment. What I did back there—vouching for her without any data, was unlike any other action in my life. So unjudicial. But I know it was completely right. And tonight I will make Taisha understand just how much she means to me.
Chapter 16
Taisha
“Until we distill the venom from the serpent and break down its chemical makeup, we have only enough serum for one more try,” Bayla tells me in the lab the next planet rotation.
I understand that the chemical composition breakdown could take weeks, even lunar cycles.
“It would be nice if we could figure it out sooner..”
“Why isn’t it working? We have all the right toxins and the wall-eck fruit. I don’t understand.” My voice rises in frustration. No sooner had we arrived back on Zandia with Marshan, a new delegation formed to get him safely back to the Wark, and establish a diplomatic alliance with them. And I jumped immediately into work at the lab, using the venom and fruit from Romon-3 to try and duplicate Leylah’s creations. “I hoped we could do it right away. On the first try. Like she did.”
I look around the lab, which has become a second home. I’m familiar now with the microscopes and extraction vials, so much more refined than anything Leylah used. Still, we have been unable to replicate her formula. All this technology can’t imitate what she did in front of that flickering fire, with rude tools.
“We will get it through trial and error.” Bayla’s voice is calm, but I can feel her tension behind the gentle tone. We all know how critical it is to get this created, and fast.
“I don’t know what I’m missing.” Anger and pain swells inside my chest.
I sigh. Then I slide my fingers into my pocket and touch the coin. So far it has not helped me see any further than I can with my own two eyes, but it’s become a habit. I squeeze it hard, trying to release my anger.
“Try to remember anything she told you. Anything that seems helpful.”
Anything that seems helpful. Isn’t that all I’ve done, every single day, since I arrived? What’s distracting me today, apart from our disappointing results in the lab, is that King Zander has still not granted me asylum.
I was so sure that after the last mission, when I actually got back onto Romon-3 and obtained the asps, and then helped build the coalition with Marshan, that Drayk would immediately petition for my freedom.
But he has not. I don’t know what I must do, but clearly, they want more from me. The serum must be the thing.
I’m so sick of living on the edge, not knowing what my future will hold. Haven’t I done enough here to prove my worth?
“I am trying.” Tears fill my eyes suddenly and I blink them back in alarm. “I’m sorry. This is not helping.”
Bayla sighs and puts down her tools and snaps off her gloves. “Oh, sweet Taisha. You’ve been through so much. I know how hard you work.” It’s like she can read my mind and knows I need some kind of affirmation. “You are the talk of Zandia, with the things you’ve accomplished. You are a great boon to our planet.”
I sniff. “Yet still in detention.”
She looks away. “I am sure it’s merely a formality at this point?” She pats my shoulder. “You are valued, Taisha. By me and so many.” Her voice is earnest. “Please know that. It is just a matter of time.”
“I have such rage against the Ocretions. If only I could bottle that, I’m positive I could fell a thousand in a single second. Not even need this stupid potion.” I hit my head with both hands and groan.
“Taisha, stop!” She laughs but has a somewhat alarmed expression. “We all hate them. But you know what? I love you. Zandia loves you.”
“You do? It does?” I stare at her.
“What have I just been saying about how awesome you are?” She rolls her eyes.
I’m about to say, “But Drayk doesn’t love me.” This isn’t the time. And honestly, I’m so full of emotion to hear that I’m valued.
I smile at Bayla, and suddenly Leylah’s words come back. “Love is more powerful than hate.”
“What?”
“Leylah said that we can get farther on love than on hate. That’s what I needed to remember, I think.” A flash. Something is coming back to me, hints of memories that flicker among patches of purple and blue.
“How does that help us?” Bayla shakes her head.
“Maybe I’ve been focusing on the wrong thing.” I touch the coin again. It’s cold and sterile, so I reach out and take Bayla’s hand. “I don’t know what I’m doing,” I admit. “But whatever it is we do, let’s focus on—the people we going to save. Help. Not the ones who have hurt us.”
She blinks at me. “Isn’t that what we’re already doing?”
“Maybe you are. I have not.” I close my eyes. I allow myself to feel the love for Leylah, and push out the anger that accompanies it. I think about how Drayk makes me feel when he holds me at night, wrapped up in his strong arms. I focus on Bayla and how I love her too, and how important it is that we find her children.
My mind swirls and fills and suddenly it’s like I’m back in the barracks with Leylah. My whole body fills with warmth, with heat.
Heat.
My eyes fly open. “Heat! We have to heat the solution as we mix. That’s the part I forgot.”
“Mother Earth!” Bayla’s voice is tremulous with excitement. “Let us do it. How hot?”
I shake my head. “As hot as three burning coals, this far under a glass vial.” I illustrate the depth with my fingers. “I don’t know the numbers, but I can replicate it exactly. Show you just how Leylah did it.”
“I will summon Dr. Daneth. He will help us verify the calculations. I want to double and triple check this.”
In a few moments, her mate arrives, walking quickly. He redoes our equations and nods. “It is right.”
I hold my breath as Bayla puts on her gloves and goggles and mixes the ingredients over the heat, a pure white flame that burns from compressed gas that is piped into the lab from deep underground.
As I watch, the color shifts and suddenly matches the solution in the vials I brought with me. “Stop. It’s ready.”
Bayla removes the beaker with metal tongs. “Here it is, then.”
“See if it matches.” Dr. Daneth leans forward.
Bayla puts a drop of the liquid into the GC machine, and it whirs. “The data.” She points. “It’s a perfect fit. Look, the chemical signature is identical to the one she brought.”
“We’ve done it!” Dr. Daneth records all of the information on his wrist comm. “I will notify King Zander immediately. He will determine whether and when to engage in mass production.”
Bayla carefully caps and stows all of the containers, discards her gloves, and cleans her hands.
Her face shines as she turns to me. “Taisha, we did it!”
I’m shaky with happiness. “We did. It’s a miracle.”
“No. It’s humanity and Zandian ingenuity.” She hugs me. “You remembered. I created, using your instructions. Dr. Daneth provided the background chemistry and knowledge to make it possible. It was a team effort.”
I squeeze her back. “Go with him. I will finish up here and go back to my domicile.”
“You are sure?” But she wants to go with him. Her whole body is leaning in that direction.
“I promise I’ll go straight home. I won’t do anything Drayk would disapprove of. He has recently allowed me to walk all on my own. I’m like a young growing up.” I grin and wink.
Her face wrinkles, like she wants to say something, but then she just nods. “I trust you. Thank you.”
She hurries out.
Alone, I’m still elated. Then, a sick feeling fills me. Why couldn’t I remember sooner? It was such an obvious part of the process. How could I possibly have forgotten that? Well, at least I got it eventually… that has to matter!
I sigh out a long breath. Maybe this is enough proof for King Zander that I’m a safe bet for Zandia. Stars willing, he’ll decide I’m safe for this planet, because at this point, I don’t think there’s any more I can do to prove my worthiness.
A rattling sound startles me, and I glance around.
It’s just the gas valve. Rattling.
But valves like this one really shouldn’t vibrate. They especially shouldn’t shake, like they’re trying to hold back a force too powerful. I reach out to shut it. I’ll tell Bayla and Dr. Daneth that it needs to be checked tomorrow—
There is a huge sound, like a bomb, and my vision goes pure white, like snow, like looking into a sun. Rockets scream around me and then red flows and flashes. I scream too, over and over, and then everything goes dark.
Chapter 17
Drayk
“What was that?” The boom sounds almost sonic. “There is no munitions training this planet rotation.” I glance toward the palace window. “That is concerning.”
King Zander steps to join me. “It sounded like an explosion.”
“That’s odd.” Bayla’s brow furls. She was just telling us, with Dr. Daneth, about the toxin. How she and Taisha finally replicated Leylah’s formula. “It sounds…” Her face pales. “Oh, Mother Earth, was that the lab?” A beat. “Taisha’s still in there.”
“The gas valve.” Dr. Daneth’s voice is urgent. “It must have given way. That’s the only thing in there that could cause a boom that loud.”
“You mean the lab exploded?” I can’t believe what I’m hearing. “Taisha!” I bellow her name, racing out of the hall.
When I reach the lab, only a few hundred yards away from the palace proper, beings are already swarming. A fire prevention crew is there, but I only care for one human.
“Taisha!” I roar. “Where are you? Taisha!”
I run into the wreckage, throwing aside the beams that once made up the walls and framed the ceiling.
“Taisha, where are you?”
Veck, I don’t see her anywhere. My brave little human. My female.
A rumble sounds and another wall collapses.
“Taisha!”
I hear a soft moan and hurtle over the metal and plaster to get to it.
Where could she be?
“Taisha? Where are you?”
“Drayk!” It’s a thin sound that seems to come from under the floor.
I peer through the smoke and flames, but see nothing.
“Drayk. Under here.”
“Where are you, Taisha?” I lift up a fallen cabinet. Oh veck.
She’s lying trapped beneath it. She’s so still, with her eyes closed, and I flash back to that awful scene on Fonquin, where she allowed the comm and discs to burn in her hands so she could save the mission. My sweet, brave female.
With a roar, I heave it away from her fragile body and scoop her into my arms. “Not again,” I moan. “Tell me you’re all right.”
Her eyelids flutter. “I’m all right,” she chokes.
“No you’re not,” I contradict, walking as swiftly as I can out of the rubble. “Veck, Taisha. Tell me where it hurts.”
She coughs. “No, really. I’m all right. I was just scared. Being trapped reminded me of nearly dying on your ship. But I knew you’d come for me.”
“Of course I came for you.” I touch her hair, brushing a curl from her face. Cup her cheek “Veck—you’re bleeding. I have to get you to a med bay.”
“I’m really fine. Just this.” She touches her bleeding temple and winces. “But it’s just a scratch. I want to go home.”
Home.
Something twists in my chest. She called my domicile home.
That’s what humans do—they bond. Settle in. Get close. I’ve been resisting her bond, and for what reason? My career?
I thought I lost her this planet rotation and the feeling was unbearable.
If she’d died, I wouldn’t be able to go on. Everything I thought was so important—honor, job, even the greater Zandian good—none of it matters.
Nothing is as important as this beautiful female in my arms.
“I’ll take you home, little human,” I promise, heading for my hovercraft. “I’ll take you straight home.”
She tucks her face against my neck, nestling into me, and I feel like everything is right in the world.
Taisha
Drayk carries me into his domicile, but refuses to put me down. After carrying me to the pantry and retrieving a sweet juice packet and a piece of fruit, he sits on the settee with me on his lap, hand-feeding me.
“I’m all right,” I tell him, reaching up to stroke his smooth jaw. It’s strange how Zandians have no facial hair, unlike human males. “I promise.”
His brow is still furrowed, same as it was since he found me in the wreckage. He looks down at me with a haunted expression. “You could’ve been killed, Taisha. I don’t know how you lived.”
I sip on the juice tube.
“I could’ve been. But I wasn’t. You found me.”
He stands up and carries me to the washroom where he sits me on the counter and gently removes my char
red clothing.
When he pulls off his own tunic, the energy between us charges. My nipples harden, pointing at his sculpted muscles. He shucks his boots and leggings and I stare at him in his full glory. It’s the first time I’ve seen him naked and stars, what a sight it is!
He’s huge. A wall of solid muscle and all of his attention is trained on me.
“Come here, beautiful,” he murmurs, picking me up to straddle his waist. “Let’s get you cleaned up.
He carries me into the washtube and holds me as the water fills and empties. The light aromatic spray of oil coats our bodies.
I wrap my arms around his neck and lift myself higher, dragging my breasts up over his chest, trying to line the head of his cock up with my entrance.
He draws in a sharp breath and that’s all it takes.
He loses control.
In a flash, I’m flattened against the wall of the washtube, his cock buried so deep inside me I fear it will split me in two.
“Veck, Taisha. Veck!” He curses, his huge hands palming my ass as he jacks his hips back and slams into me again.
I throw my head back and cry out with pleasure. “Yes, Drayk. Please.”
He makes a growling sound in his throat and thrusts again, fucking me hard. I’m too tight, and he’s too big. It hurts, but I don’t care.
I’ve never felt anything so satisfying in my life.
It’s like my whole life’s been leading up to this epic claiming. Like my body was made just for his. Together we become something else. Something whole and new and perfect.
His fingers dig into my asscheeks and my back slams against the washtube wall with each vicious thrust, and I welcome it. It feels so right.
So good.
My eyes roll back in my head, toes curl where they’re hooked behind his back.
“More, Drayk. Harder. Give it to me.”
“Stars, Taisha, yes!” he shouts and fucks me harder, faster.
I can’t see. Don’t know how to breathe. All I know is the explosion about to go off between us.
“Please, Drayk,” I beg.