Chapter 36 #2
I’ve never seen anything so beautiful. Light and clear, soft and gleaming.
A lavender sky with gauzy, blushing clouds.
Rolling auridian foothills. A long stretch of shimmery pink sand.
Pearly periwinkle villages dotted along the landscape.
Pastel forests stretching north. The iridescent sea winking in the west.
Khanos.
That’s what this view is.
The very planet itself, laid out before her king.
Zolkan watches me as I take in the landscape, slowly roaming my gaze over every peak and dip. When he speaks, it startles me.
“Come here.”
The low timbre sends tingles to my toes. Part of me wants to disobey, but that stupid, breathless voice from our first breakfast together makes a reappearance. Suddenly, the only thing worse than giving him what he wants is not giving it to him.
I settle myself on the pastel stone underneath us, leaving enough room for two hoxuds between. Mindful that I’m probably hurting him with my proximity.
But it is nothing compared to the feeling of being away from you.
The memory floats, unbidden, through the front of my mind. Fresh perfume rises along with it. Embarrassed, I duck my head and try to tuck my split skirts around my legs.
“Look.”
His command is quiet, but effective. I snap my head up, instantly struck by the glorious view all over again.
He’s right. It’s somehow better down here. I feel like I’m level with the horizon—as if I could dive into it and fly through the space between the suns.
Feeling shy, I chance a peek over at the king. He has his eyes on the distance, but his arm around Rask’s beast. I smirk, shaking my head.
“Does Rask know about this?”
Zolkan grimaces again, but the not-dog chuffs, snorting through his snout. Which is when I decide he’s totally a Stanley, after all.
“Stanley,” I start, pitching my tone to scold. “Cheating is wrong.”
Zolkan gives another quiet laugh, this one distinctly surprised. “Ss-tan-lee?”
Feeling ridiculous only makes me more stubborn, unfortunately. I nod, emphatic. “Yup. None of you were gonna name him, so I am.”
Zolkan frowns at the beast. “Ss-tanley?” he tries again, watching the hound’s reaction. When his purple tongue lolls out in a toothy, crooked smile, Zolkan rasps another chuckle. “He likes it,” the king agrees.
I shoot for brazen, dusting non-existent pink sand off my lap as I shrug. “Of course he does. It’s his name.”
I can’t decide what earns me another of his reluctant laughs—my joke or the attitude layered over it. Either way, I’m covered in another round of goosebumps. Zolkan’s rich smokiness swells into the crisp air. I wind up folding my knees against my chest to hide my trembling hands.
A pensive silence expands between us. Zolkan punctuates it with a weary sigh, slinging his arm back around Stanley.
“It is not Rask’s d-ggg,” he finally grumbles, half-swallowing his attempt at “dog” before adding, “For the record.”
My mouth drops open. On top of everything else his petty pink ass has done to Zolkan… did Rask steal the poor man’s dog, too?
The Zortaire sees my expression and offers his usual half-smile. “He wasn’t mine, either.” All traces of humor evaporate as quickly as they appeared, though. “He belonged to my brother, Zazt.”
A bolt of shock strikes me. My mind reels, trying to recall all the scraps of information I’ve collected about the Zortaire since I got here. I don’t remember any mention of a brother.
Zolkan doesn’t look away. His violet gaze flashes, pure pain filling his features. “He died. Ten orbits ago.”
A deep ache rebounds off my diaphragm, slicing between my lungs to collide with my wrenching heart. My stomach twists as it sinks. “I’m—I—”
I flounder, completely out of my depth. Do Roktusians apologize for each other’s losses? Is it rude to ask how he lost his brother? Or heartless not to?
Zolkan decides for me, deftly moving us away from the specifics. Instead, he roughs his hand along the hoxud’s back and says, “Zazt was Rask’s best friend. We both were, actually. The three of us grew up together. But when Zazt died, and Rask and I had a falling out…”
“You gave Rask the dog,” I realize aloud.
Appalled. Confounded. Is it possible Zolkan could really be that good?
Can anyone?
“No,” the king replies. For a second, I’m reminded of the creepy computer who could read my mind. Then Zolkan offers a dry smirk. “I gave him Stanley.”
Laughing feels good. Like finally exhaling. For a second, I think we’ve navigated to safer territory.
But then, Zolkan asks The Dreaded Question.
“What about you?” he begins. “Did you have any brothers or sisters on Earth?”
Dozens of faces flash behind my eyes. Fellow foster kids, roommates from group homes.
“No,” I admit slowly. “I didn’t have siblings. Or parents, actually. I—”
Didn’t have anyone.
Except for Capri and Addy.
The snarl that scrapes out of Zolkan is the single most menacing thing I’ve ever heard. Punctuated by a quiet but deadly, “What?”
Oh, boy.
Abort, abort! my run-and-hide instinct screams. But I’ve said too much… and too little, apparently. Because the expectant energy emanating from Zolkan is so overpowering, I feel like I’ll choke if I don’t explain.
Resigned, I sigh. Trying to find a way to explain this to an alpha from a planet where children are rare and cherished. One whose species can’t produce any young without him.
“On Earth, people accidentally have babies all the time. And, sometimes, they can’t take care of those babies. Or they don’t want them, so they—”
Zolkan’s growl rises. “Don’t. Want. Them?”
I resist the insane urge to reach over and put my hand on his arm.
Instead, I swallow hard and whisper, “It’s different there.
Everything is currency-based. People go hungry.
Or they’ve been abused by their own parents.
A lot of places have restrictions on birth control.
There are lots of good reasons not to want a child on Earth. ”
Zolkan absorbs this, his chest still rising and falling a bit too hard for casual breaths. “Yet humans have them anyway?”
I nod slowly. This is the part I’ve never understood, either. If no one wanted me, why am I here?
“I know it doesn’t make any sense,” I admit. “But it’s pretty common.”
Zolkan’s plated forehead creases. “What happened to you, then? When your parents did not want you?”
He says the last part like it’s an abhorrent aberration. No one has ever been so offended on my behalf—except for Rask when we discussed Zolkan avoiding me. I nearly smirk at the irony.
Raising an eyebrow, I try for a teasing tone. “Oh, the usual. They shoved me onto other people and made me their problem.”
Just like you, Zortaire.
Zolkan picks up on my sardonic jab. But instead of smiling or acting affronted, he freezes. His scent darkens into a smoldering mess. The voice at my middle recoils, whining.
I barely manage to capture the sound before it escapes. Stanley still hears me, though. He springs to his clawed paws and trots over to my side, pressing his muzzle into my bare shoulder.
Tears spring to my eyes much too easily these days. I can no longer tell if this place is making me more emotional… or just giving me permission to feel all the things I used to strangle.
I decide this is definitely not the time to burst into sobs and find out.
“I should go,” I murmur, pushing to my feet. Ignoring the shriek in my center, begging me to launch myself at the big, strong alpha clenching his jaw as he witnesses my shame. “I hope I’ll see you at dinner.”