Chapter 19
I still prefer the taste of Brynna, even after our post-grenade maze dessert of what she calls ice cream. It seems that nothing else I taste can push aside the memory of her nectar on my tongue or compete with the lusciousness of her delicate flesh.
She seems to find relief in consuming the cold treat as we walk the garden at the far end of the females’ dorm wing, while she tells me about all of the flowers and plants.
Brynna looks stunning among the cherry blossoms in the fading light of day.
The way she’s forgiven me and still looks at me like I’m something she wants utterly baffles me.
And as much as the idea I should leave still hovers in the back of my mind, Vryskas is right.
If something happened to her after I left, that would hurt much worse than anything else I can ever imagine.
So I focus on her every facet, her voice, her skin, the softness of her hair, and the way she analyzes everything. I listen. And I wait for the next opportunity to prove my love by protecting and serving her. I’m familiar with servitude. But this time, it’s my choice.
My fated is smart. She has endured pain for me already.
She has helped heal me. We have flown together,as much as a human can.
I feel like she is mine, but I have not yet claimed her, not truly.
And after what has happened between us, I am afraid to.
But I’m not going anywhere without her. And she’s not going anywhere without me.
DIA reminds us both over our wristbands that it’s nearly time for the formal dinner. So I escort Brynna back to her ship, where she says she has a dress she can wear.
“I’ll be fine, Jorusk. Go change.” Brynna cranes up and kisses my cheek.
“Close up your ramp. Then I will leave.”
She gives me a knowing look. “Alright, fine.”
I wait until Brynna is on her ship with the ramp sealed shut before I walk away. “DIA, can you keep tabs on her ship?”
“I have already been doing that.”
“Oh?”
“She is your fated. She is as much my responsibility as you are. Now, did you recognize the symbol on her forehead?”
I think back to it as I walk to my ship, where Fieri waits. “It was familiar, but I didn’t know it.”
DIA tells me what she chose and how important it is that I show the universe who I am.
When I walk up the ramp to my ship, Fieri is standing just inside, dressed in glossed black armor with an orange cragged stripe across the chest.
“Wow, look at you,” I remark. “Did DIA put you up to that?”
He snorts. “She insists I escort you because of what you are.”
“Fieri will not wear the cloak of a royal guard,” DIA counters from a nearby screen.
“It is a fighting hazard,” he retorts. “The enemy can take it and pull me around.”
“So now you know what it’s like to have wings in a Terran society instead of an airborne one,” I mutter.
He sighs and snatches a deep, blood-red cloak from a closet and clips it to his shoulders. “Better?”
“Better,” DIA and I say at the same time.
He wrinkles his nose. “Fucking hell.”
“If Cinuska could see you, she would be hatchanai,” I reply, opening up the cabinets holding uniforms meant for me when I grew up.
“Hatchanai?” Fieri asks.
“I am not sure they will fit,” DIA interrupts. “You grew more than expected. Cinuska fed you well.”
I laugh. “Are you calling me fat, DIA?”
“No. You are stronger than your mother and father’s genetics told us you would be.”
“Are they alive?” I ask, realizing I’ve never made the inquiry.
DIA is quiet for a long moment.
“DIA?”
“I don’t know,” she says. “Only entering the nebula will allow me to access our homeworld records. There may be no one left by now. I cannot say. You may be the last.”
“Why do you say that?” I ask.
“Populations dwindled because hope was lost every time we sent another messenger, and they never returned. It is why it is so important that you let the universe know you are still here.”
After a quick shower, I put on my ceremonial armor. It is smooth and black like Fieri’s, but bears an orange cloak that pins to my shoulders with radiant red clips shaped like the points of my tail.
“Is Brynna ready yet?” I ask.
“No. She cannot decide what to wear and has called for someone from the apparel department to help her.”
Fieri taps on the door frame with a can of wing grease. “You need a shine. We can’t have you going to the formal dinner looking like you just rolled around in the dust.”
I take the brush he hands me and begin spreading the oil on one wing while he does the backs. “It feels silly.”
“It makes you a symbol of power.”
“Why? Is my Inferno not enough?” I ask.
“It is the control that makes you more intimidating.” Fieri finishes one wing and moves to the back of the other.
“How is the colony?” I ask.
“Nebs are still advancing, no conflict yet, but everyone in the federation is on edge. Denarso are posturing nearby, likely waiting with scavengers to pick through wreckage.”
I don’t like that I’m stuck here. Every update I get makes me feel guiltier than the last. Tensions rise between the allies and the enemies, and I’m going to a fancy dinner to be tended to like a Talhuskin.
I don’t know if I’ll be able to shove any food inside me with all my disgust over the entire situation.
DIA shows Fieri something on a screen behind me.
“What is it?” I ask.
“Communications from Aura.” Fieri fixes my cloak. “You would be a disaster without me.”
“Fuck you, too,” I snort. “I do not care about pompous shit. It does not prevent my people from dying.”
Fieri steps in front of me. “I know you think that the only way to lead is to be the first to bash your body to pieces, fighting, and the last on the field to rescue whoever you can. But this shows you can be civil. That you are intelligent and a worthy adversary because you are not an animal. Are you an animal? A demon?”
I open my mouth to respond, to deny it, but I’m still not sure.
“No weapons.” Fieri reaches down and steals the knife from my boot. Then he points it at me. “I do not want you to get kicked out. We need everyone on our side right now.
“Amphirans and Drathious are united in protecting Mindor and Alpha Prime. But we need Earth’s forces, Nytheralian, Alustri, Ferrim, everyone. Because when the Nebs take what they want and move on, it will be one of their worlds that we will move the fight to.”
“I know.”
“Fix your hair.”
I look at myself in a mirror and find my short hair is matted to one side. I spike it up with my fingers, and it stays. It’s much thicker than Brynna’s, and I already miss the softness of her.
Fieri keeps pace a half step behind me, one step to the side as we leave DIA behind and walk through the complex toward Brynna’s ship. Worry grows in me as this war closes in that Brynna may become collateral damage.
“I’ve got a project to work on. Will you help me?” I ask Fieri.
“What kind?”
“Something to help Brynna if anything should ever happen to me.”
He gives me a questioning look. “You better not be planning to do anything stupid.”
“Usually. But this is a backup measure. We’ll try it on you first.”
He makes a disgusted face.
“You’re really going to tell me you never dreamt of flying?”
“Oh. That’s what you meant? Wings?”
“Something like that.” We stop outside Brynna’s ramp. “I had planned to build some for my mate, but…you know.”
“Eluni may already have something in progress,” he replies. “Now, tell me what the hell hatchanai means.”
I chuckle. “You and Cinuska have some serious tension.”
“Jorusk… I swear…”
“It loosely means egg crazy. It means she wants hatchlings with you.”
Fieri’s mouth hangs open. “You’re teasing me.”
“Oh, my gosh, old man. You should see your face,” I snort.
He scowls at me. “Does she really?”
“Yes.” Deep down, I think she does.
“But I am too old.”
“Not for Drathious,” I reply. “We are fertile for many decades. And you don’t look your age.”
Fieri looks around at nothing in particular. “Does that have something to do with calling me isikasin?”
I choke on a laugh. “Did she say that to you?”
“When we were done helping the patients of the cargo transport attack.”
“That’s basically saying she thinks you’re spicy.”
“Spicy?”
“Hot and pissy, like most popular Drath males.”
The ramp unlocks with a mechanical noise and lowers.
“Better get on that. You’re running out of time,” I pester.
Fieri elbows me in the side. “Shut up. I never had time. That is not my purpose in this life. And I am old.”
“Not old enough to deter her.”
“Whatever.” Fieri silently fumes.
I forget our conversation when I see Brynna standing at the top of her ramp in a fire-red dress made of shimmering scales. She’s brushed out her long, dark hair, and it falls down her back in a feathery sheet.
She inhales deeply, and I see the hint of an orange vein crawl up her neck. Brynna lifts her eyes to mine, and I see a wisp of a flame in them.
I hike up the ramp and offer her a hand. She takes it.
“Gorgeous. But…your neck.”
She dips her head. “Osiris gave me another dose…in anticipation. It is…already affecting me.”
Taking her by the back of her neck, I draw her lips within a hot breath of mine before I finally grab a shred of sanity again. I want to pick her up and take her now, feel her soft skin glide over mine in a dance that would make even Fieri blush.
My inferno pouts inside my skin suit when I shove it down to walk her down the ramp and escort her through the hall toward the formal dining facility. We are here for a purpose.
I will have Brynna for dessert later.
Fieri stays close and quiet as we ride the elevator to the top floor, where we walk out into a vast restaurant that’s been built since I was last here. It looks up at the stars.
Brynna points to a distant tower, the one where I first tasted her and the one where I hurt her. “That looks familiar.”
When we step inside the formal dining hall, a cameradrone hovers in front of us, announcing our arrival to everyone watching the race on the holofeed.
“You kept the mating mark?” I ask her.