116. Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Nineteen
A nya
I wake in a tight embrace and am proud of myself when my first thought isn’t to rush to see who is holding me. I don’t care whether it’s Rynn’s hand holding my wrist or Zar’s tail on my ankle. I’m being held by my males. Both of them. It feels divine.
Today is going to be hard. Zar will meet his parents—one of the most emotionally raw things he’s ever had to endure. Well, not really. He’s been through worse—much worse. But he was on emotional lockdown for most of that. Now, his emotions are wide open. Which is great for being in a relationship. Not so great when you’re going through emotional upheaval.
There are so many things that could go sideways. Rynn could have gotten his facts wrong and the Ton’arr couple he’s going to meet aren’t related to him at all. Perhaps they’ll refuse to see or talk to him.
My mom would accuse me of borrowing trouble. I don’t need to go there. For at least a few more minutes, I can laze here with my guys and think about last night’s kiss.
I can’t lie to myself. That was weirder than shit. Well, weird and wonderful. To have my mate back, to be in his arms, to feel the full impact of his love? That was the wonderful part.
And Rynn. I’ve known he’s had a crush on me since shortly after he appeared. But that kiss was… more than a crush. That male cares for me. I love Zar’s brash passion, so it’s funny that I can also love Rynn’s almost shy, sincere affection. I never thought there could be anything better than Zar, but I must admit, they make a pretty heady combo.
“I loved kissing you both last night.”
Zar’s tail tightens on my ankle as Rynn’s fingers encircle my wrist, then skate up my arm as if he’d done it a thousand times before.
“Aye.” I try to discern who said it, but I can’t. Nor do I need to.
Is it possible? I’m falling in love again. With both of them.
Rynn
I’m here for you, Zar. With every ounce of my being, I will help you through this. You’ve been through a lot these last few lunars , and although this might be a heartfelt reunion, there are many things that could go wrong. Even if everything goes perfectly, it will still be emotional. Feel free to pass me the baton or tap out altogether and take a break in the orchard.
Orchard?
Out the door of the treehouse is an orchard. It’s quiet there. Peaceful.
There’s a door to the treehouse?
I just created it for you, my friend.
Zar
Why does he make it so hard to hate him? I will never admit it, never, but if circumstances were different, I’d be honored to call him brother.
I grab a cup of drassah from the dining room—that stuff is addicting—and head to the bridge with Anya at my side. I sit in the captain’s seat and wait for word from Dax and Shadow.
It’s not even the appointed time, yet I can’t keep my eyes off the comms panel, waiting for their communication.
“Everything is going to work out,” Anya reassures me as she slides onto my lap and strokes my cheek with her palm.
They’ll be ecstatic to hear from you, Rynn says.
“Showtime,” Callista announces.
I’d thought she had her comms on speaker, but she was monitoring everything quietly, in case something went wrong.
When she turns on the speaker, Shadow says, “We were allowed in to see your parents after passing through five increasingly restrictive levels of security. They wouldn’t accept the documentation of your DNA. It’s a good thing we brought a vial of your blood. They’re running the sample now. If it’s a match, we’ll arrange a meeting as soon as possible.”
Of course it will be a match, I almost say out loud, then realize I was counting on Rynn’s intel to be solid. He admitted the memories were fuzzy. I was too young to understand the spoken word. My brain had no ability to organize information in any semblance of order. Rynn’s supposedly impeccable information could just be a combination of misunderstandings and wishes.
We’ll know soon , Rynn reassures me as he sits next to me in the captain’s chair in our internal command center.
“Master Shadow. Master Dax,” we hear a solemn voice speaking the Ton’arr language through our comms. I’m glad Rynn’s been tutoring me in the Ton’arr language. He understands everything the male is saying, doesn’t even need his translator. It’s just another reason to resent the male. He knows my language better than I do.
“The King and Queen would like to offer a formal invitation to your friend Zar to meet with them for dinner tonight at eight.”
A dozen emotions bombard me at once. I hadn’t given more than a passing thought to my parents for decades. When I did, I never envisioned a father. I’d assumed it was one of my mother’s customers. I still haven’t come to terms with the fact that I have not one but two loving parents, nor that they want to meet me.
“I’ll be bringing my mate,” Rynn says out loud, as if it’s a foregone conclusion that Anya’s invited.
“Of course,” the emissary says. “They look forward to meeting you both.”
When the comm is terminated, I sag in my seat, still wondering if the emotions churning inside me are anxious or excited. It’s Rynn who says, “Cally, Anya will need a dress suitable for the occasion. Do we have anything onboard that will do?”
“I think there’s a super fancy dress Grace wore for the Emperor on Emirus. She left it onboard when she moved to our sister ship, the Devil’s Playground. She said she never wanted to see it again. I’ll see if Savannah can find it and alter it to fit Anya.”
Activity swirls around me and Rynn runs point on a hundred details while I take him up on his offer to spend time in the orchard. I was a consummate gladiator who won countless matches in the arena. I don’t want to admit I’m afraid to meet my parents. I can’t help but wonder if I’ll be a vast disappointment to them.
Anya
We’re in a rental hover-van, surrounded by five of our best males. Zar is dressed in a black leather kilt and sash. I’ve brushed his mane until it’s perfect. Despite the care we’ve taken with his appearance, he looks like a conquering gladiator, not a prince.
My heart aches for him. I can only imagine what it feels like to have your sense of who you are pulled out from under you, then given a new identity. That, on top of having to share his body—and me—with a symbiont, must be a cataclysmic upheaval inside. He’s probably scared, but he’d never admit that, even to me.
“I’m worried,” he says as he leans over, tugs me close, and sets his chin on my head.
Calm washes through me. I’m so glad he can share his feelings with me.
“We’ll get through this, Love. We’ve gotten through the Marauders and an insurrection and a dozen assaults from the MarZan cartel. Your parents are going to love you.”
“I’m not sure. I’m not the son they dreamed of. I wasn’t properly educated. I’ve killed males in the arena. I’ll be a disappointment.”
I know I should remain belted in, but I slip out of it and straddle him so I can look directly into his normally round eyes, now narrowed with worry.
“If you had a child who was stolen, and you were to be reunited decades later, how would you feel, Zar?” I pierce him with my steadiest gaze.
To his credit, he doesn’t pay me lip service. He thinks for long moments, then says, “I would be so happy he was alive, so happy to meet him, I would love him with all my heart.”
“No matter what he’s done?” I press.
“I would be proud of everything he did to survive, no matter how unsavory, because it would have brought him back to me.”
“Exactly,” I say, then kiss him.
“Rynn’s been telling me the same things. I think I just needed to hear it one more time.”
“Fistbump, Rynn,” I say as I knock knuckles with Zar’s left hand, the one that always grips my wrist.
Zar
I glance into the reflective windows of the hover as we step out, wanting to ensure I look presentable.
You look great , Rynn reassures me. They’re going to love you, Zar. Tell me how I can be of help.
Stay with me in the command center, brother, I say before I can stop myself. I just called my enemy “brother.”
That’s not true, though. He’s not my enemy. In the short time I’ve known him, this male has proven his affection and allegiance more times than I can count. He’s a good male. Kind both to me and Anya. Look at her. She’s gorgeous in that emerald dress. It probably gives her confidence. I was too self-absorbed to think of her needs. Rynn is there for both of us.
Brother , I repeat, to make sure he knows the first time wasn’t a mistake.
I’m honored, brother , he responds with a piercing stare and open affection on his face. I’m glad he looks human, like my beloved. Is that what makes it easier for me to care for him?
When I pull my attention to the present, I see we’ve arrived at an old warehouse near the space docks. The males flanking Anya and me are all on highest alert. Dax and Shadow are in front of us, their shoulders tense, their heads swiveling right and left. This would be an unsavory part of town in the daylight. At night, it seems unsafe.
Tucking Anya against my left side, I unsheathe my ceremonial sword with my right. Ten Ton’arr males approach us. Wearing black uniforms with crimson piping, they’re armed and wary.
The two contingents stop, facing each other.
“Lord Zar and his mate step forward,” one says.
“We’re not putting our captain at risk,” Shadow says as he bows up and lifts his chin imperiously. “Put your weapons down.”
“I’m Persseon,” the male in charge says. “We’ll be bringing you into the presence of the male and female who are the rightful rulers of planet Ton’arr. We cannot allow them to come to any harm. I give you my word. No harm will come to any of you, but we can’t proceed until we collect your arms.”
I glance at Rynn in the chair next to me in our internal command center. What do you think? I ask him.
It seems legitimate. It’s a standoff unless we agree to their terms. I suggest having all arms removed except for Persseon’s. Our unarmed males can take their unarmed males—they’re not gladiators.
When I make my demands, Persseon seems glad to hear my compromise.
“Leave all the weapons but mine right here. We’ll collect them shortly,” he tells his males.
A moment later, the contingent enters the warehouse. We pass by dingy desks, antique computers, and hundreds of bins of what I assume are spices. The air is redolent with so many smells I can’t differentiate them. Anya looks ridiculously out of place here in her fancy ball gown and pretty necklace.
When we pass through the next doorway, it’s as if we’re in another world. The dirt and odors of the spice import warehouse are behind us and we’re in a building as close to a palace as I’ve ever been.
Dark wooden walls and doors gleam as if they’ve been recently polished. Although the windows must be fake, they’re made of stained glass and lit from behind. They all portray Ton’arr males and females in what must be antique garb, all performing heroic feats.
The floors are made of the finest stone and laid into intricate patterns. The furniture and art are of the highest quality.
“Wow,” Anya whispers as she holds more tightly to my arm.
“Welcome to the palace of the rightful rulers of Ton’arr, King Valeris and his Queen, Avania,” Persseon announces with a sweep of his hand. He looks pointedly at my guards and says, “We will only allow you and your mate past these doors.” He points to elaborate double doors that are inlaid with a dozen kinds of wood and inset with stained glass.
As my heart speeds up with anxiety, I recall Anya telling me about the drassah plantation and how Rynn resented not being introduced.
I’ll be fine. I’m here for you, Rynn says, as if he read my mind. Don’t worry about me. Now go meet your parents.
I tip my head to Shadow, indicating he should stand down, then follow Persseon through the double doors, Anya clutching my arm.
When the doors open, I see nothing but six uniformed guards, all armed with laser rifles, forming a wall of flesh between us and anything else in the room.
“We hate to do this, my lord, but we want to ensure everyone’s safety,” Persseon explains. “I need to pat you down.”
Anger roars through me, but the dip of his head and the extreme deference of his body language shouts his hesitancy to put me through this. I’ve certainly never been called “my lord” before.
I open my arms, but make a low, threatening chuff that fully expresses my reluctance. After he’s done with me, when he stands and turns toward Anya, every muscle in my body flies from high alert to attack mode. This male will not touch my mate!
“I’ll pat my mate down to your satisfaction,” Rynn offers with just enough deference, while refusing to give an inch.
“Yes, my lord, that will be satisfactory.”
Good thinking, I tell Rynn as I take over the body to pat her down. He still has done nothing more than kiss her and now is not the time for exploration.
When that is complete, the males part to reveal two Ton’arrs—one male, one female. Every muscle in my body slackens, and I have to lock my knees to remain standing. I have no urge or ability to examine the room for safety. My gaze stays riveted on the pair who must be my parents.
They rise from their chairs, or are they thrones, and stride to us as Persseon announces, “King Valeris and Queen Avania, may I introduce Prince Zar and his mate, Princess Anya.”
He moves out of the way to allow the King and Queen to approach. The female’s urge to reach out to me, to touch me, is so strong I can feel it from across the room. The King’s golden eyes, the same color as my own, are shining with affection in the exact same way they were in the picture Rynn showed me from my buried memories.
I had my hand possessively on Anya’s elbow, but at this moment, I clutch harder for fear I’ll fall to my knees.
My mouth has popped open, my eyes are wide, and my thoughts are flying in my head so fast I can’t pay attention to any one thing. Except the affection bombarding me from these two strangers.
“Zaypien,” the Queen says, “my Zaypien.” She hurtles toward me and embraces me in a hug so long and tight I don’t know what to do. Perhaps it’s Rynn, or maybe my own impulses, that propel me to finally throw my arms around her and complete the embrace.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers in my ear. “I’ve been told your name is Zar.” She doesn’t release her tight grip, her hands splayed across my back. “I mean no disrespect. I’ve yearned to say that name to a fur and blood male for over thirty annums . We named you that after the day we met. It means destiny, fate, or providence. It’s surely providence that kept you alive all these annums and finally brought us together again.”
“What am I to call you?” I ask inanely. Surely the most ridiculous thing to say in this circumstance.
She pulls away enough to make certain I’m looking into her serious face. “When you’re ready, I would be pleased for you to call me Ima , for mother. Perhaps someday, you’ll allow me to call you son.”
I can’t speak. For a seasoned gladiator, I’ve seen it all—endured both emotional and physical torture at the hands of my owners. I haven’t cried in decades. Now, my emotions bombard me as tears spill from my eyes.
A mother. A mother who wants nothing more than to call me son.
I hug her harder than I’ve ever hugged a living person. She hugs me back.
Whispering into her ear, I say, “I would be honored for you to call me son, but I ask you not to do so until I tell you about my past. You might want nothing to do with me when you hear about my life. You might certainly never want to claim me as your son.”
Fear flares through me. To have this—a mother’s love—and then have it snatched away. This could decimate my soul.
She presses her fingers against the fur on my back, tugging me down so she can speak into my ear.
“I know you were a gladiator. Forgive me if it was intrusive, but after you reached out to me, I watched a few of your matches. I’ve seen what you can do in the arena and I’ve seen the results of many abuses by the roadmap of pain I saw in the scars on your fur. Son, there is nothing, nothing you could do to obliterate my affection for you.
“When you’re ready, tell me as much or as little about your life as you would like. Whatever you share with me will only allow me to love you more. You own a most precious spot in my heart. One that has been an open wound from the time you were brutally taken from me until this moment.”
I groan, hiding my head in the lee of her neck, not wanting anyone to see my weakness. Is it weakness, though, to allow myself to feel the healing balm of her affection? Her love?
“My son,” she says as she strokes my forehead, then furrows her fingers through my mane. Her tears are running unrestrained, forming rivers through the fur on her face. “I wish you hadn’t been snatched away. I’m so sorry we missed so many annums together. But we have each other now. I hope you won’t mind how often I’ll tell you how much I love you, or call you my son, or reach out to touch you with affection. Here, come meet your abba .”
She doesn’t step away. He joins us. He’s a big male, my size, and it’s easy for him to wrap us both in his embrace.
“Zar. My son. Welcome home.”
I banish my embarrassment and allow their love to wash over me. I can feel their sorrow mixed with joy as my abba allows his tears to flow unashamedly. We’re people who belong together, who were wronged, who had so many annums of our lives stolen. I refuse to pretend I’m not deeply moved by their love and acceptance. We deserve this poignant moment of reunion.
After long minimas , my father pulls away, clears his throat, and motions to a small table set for four. Tear tracks darken the fur on his cheeks, just as, I’m sure, they darken mine.
“Excuse my manners,” Ima says as she takes a square of cloth from her sleeve and wipes the tears from her face. “Please introduce me to your mate.”
“Ima, Abba, this is my beloved Anya. She’s my heart, my truemate, my salvation, my love.”
She’s not from Ton’arr. Will they accept her, a human, as the mate of the heir to the royal throne?
My mother wraps an arm around Anya’s back and escorts her to the table. “Forgive my manners, my dear. I’m pleased to meet you and excited to hear about how you and my son met. I’m certain it’s a great love story.”
Anya
As soon as I’m seated, I use my napkin to wipe my eyes. Have I ever watched anything as touching as their reunion? I don’t think so.
Zar had been worried about them accepting him. He spent so long building a fortress around his heart, he isn’t skilled in expressing tender feelings.
He knows how to love and be loved. He’s become a friend to all onboard and a caring and concerned leader, but handling emotions like this? He’s new at it. I’m glad he has Rynn to support him inside. Even though all these feelings are new to Rynn too, he can maintain some distance from the tsunami of emotion that must be pummeling my beloved mate right now. They make a good team.
The intensity of the moment recedes, and my mate steps into his power as he talks with his newfound parents. He glosses over his history, telling them broad strokes about his childhood. They don’t pry. I’m sure they would all be happier with the abridged version.
Zar only shares specifics when he tells them about me and the Fool’s Errand . His love for me shines through his facial expression and his words. His parents’ faces soften as well. At last, we’ve gotten to the good part of his life.
I’m certain the food is delicious, but although I’ve been eating, I haven’t tasted a bite. I’ve been through some shitty times in my life, so I allow myself to absolutely wallow in this moment. Yeah, this dinner, watching my beloved be accepted by two wonderful people who have no ulterior motive other than to love him unconditionally, well it’s just about the best moment of my life.
It was touch and go for a while. I think if he hadn’t been holding onto me for dear life, his knees would have hit the floor. But now he’s animated and beaming with happiness. It’s a joy to watch.
I’m across the table from him. His parents are on either side of him. They’re huggers—they literally can’t keep their hands off him.
When Zar finishes bragging about my role in the overthrow of our owners, the conversation falls silent for only a moment.
Valeris asks, “Is now the time to tell you about the coup? I don’t have to share it. Not now or ever. Would you like to know?”
“Yes.” Zar’s body tenses as if he’s girding for a blow. I’m sure it will be.
“I was young. Twenty-five. My parents were far too young when they died in a hover crash, leaving me as King in my early twenties. Your mother and I had a… difficult start. We were forced to mate shortly after I ascended to the throne.”
He reaches across the table and squeezes her hand, his eyes full of affection. She picks up his hand, turns it, and kisses his palm. Her lips lift in a devoted smile. I can’t wait to hear that story.
“Sometimes fate has ideas for us that are even bigger than what we hope for,” she says as she brings her mate’s hand to her mouth and kisses his knuckles.
“She got pregnant with you shortly after our mating. Those were indescribably happy times. The day you were born was the highlight of my life.”
His eyes tighten in pain as if he’s relieving the next part. “You were only one annum old the day my younger brother Kato staged the coup. The moment your mother found your crib empty and sounded the alarm, Kato’s males entered the palace in force.
“He knew every nook, cranny, and hiding place. He’d grown up there. He knew how many soldiers guarded the palace. He invaded with overwhelming strength. There was little bloodshed. We were so outnumbered, I ordered my males to stand down.
“To this day, I don’t know why he let us live.”
“Yes, you do, my love,” Avania interrupts. “He knew he could control us because he had Zaypien. He said he would allow him to live if we stayed away, and that he would kill him if we tried to take back the throne. We stayed away to keep you alive, Zar.”
“We set up a home on Algaron IV,” Valeris says. “We used the proceeds from the sale of the family jewels along with our sharp minds to build a small fortune with this spice business, just waiting for the right time to take the throne back by force. We’ve never given up. We just had to make sure you were safe.”
The Queen reaches out and grabs Zar’s hand. “For so many annums I allowed myself to believe Kato found you a safe and loving home, perhaps on Ton’arr, perhaps elsewhere. I soothed myself with images of you growing up in a home filled with love and laughter.
“It was only three annums ago our emissaries finally tracked you down. When I found out you’d been raised a gladiator-slave, I…” She shakes her head, hand clutching her throat, unable to continue.
“We were both devastated,” Valeris continues. “That’s when we located you. We were on our way to Hyperion to buy you when you staged your overthrow. You’ve done a good job of lying low. We were unable to track you down until your males approached us.”
“I know I’m a Ton’arr male,” Zar says, “but I never felt I belonged there. I’m afraid I haven’t investigated much about the planet. How is it faring under Kato’s rule?”
Valeris and Avania exchange somber glances, then the King says, “He’s… raped the planet, stolen billions of credits in resources, imposed untenable taxes to maintain his lavish lifestyle. The people are staggering under the weight of his taxes and tightened laws. It’s not a good time to live on Ton’arr.” He shakes his head, his expression tight with pain.
Valeris looks Zar in the eye and says, “We’ll talk more politics later if you wish. It’s late, and this has been emotional for all of us. We’re glad you’re here. Can you stay a while? Spend some time getting to know us? Perhaps figure out how we can cobble together our relationship?”
Zar looks at me as if wanting my agreement. Does he really have to ask?
“We’d love to stay,” I answer, my heart bursting with happiness for my mate.
Avania stands, her face beaming with pleasure. “We’ve prepared a room for you and your males. Will you stay here? We’ve taken this abandoned warehouse and made a tiny palace. It’s our only conceit. I’ve never said it out loud, but now that you’re here, I’ll admit it’s more for you than us. I always believed we’d find you, and when we did, I wanted you to get a taste of the life that was stolen from you.”
“It’s impressive,” Zar’s voice is deep with emotion, “but these walls are inconsequential compared to the joy of meeting you both.”