Chapter 69
CHAPTER SIXTY-NINE
Rask’s threat reverberates through the room.
But as I stare at his twisted, bruised features, the only thing I feel is relief.
He’s alive.
Thank all the gods.
No matter how much he despises me, Rask is the only brother I have left. If I’d lost him the way I lost Zazt…
And then, something miraculous happens.
As we all gape at him, Rask’s sneer transforms into a slow smirk. Mischief sparks in his gaze, challenging me with his amusement. Letting it smolder into pure molten desire as he flits his focus onto Sofi.
“Rask!”
Our mate squeals, diving for him. Cylus opens his mouth to protest, wincing, but it’s too late. Her body hits Rask’s with a slap.
Sofi doesn’t notice. She’s too busy climbing his frame to straddle his torso, planting her human kisses all over his face. Rask laughs, the sound a bit too breathless. “Hi, little one.”
Sofi doesn’t stop, covering his dirty face in precious presses of her lips. Tears run down her cheeks as she bursts, “Fuck you for leaving like that! I could kill you! What were you thinking?!”
Every trace of Rask’s humor evaporates. The arm not wrapped into place at his side rises to gather her closer. He turns his head, hiding his pained expression in her soft, fragrant hair.
“I was thinking that I could not be near you and hide my love for you,” he answers, brash as ever. His scaled, bandaged arm flexes around her shaking body. “That if I stayed, I’d die of envy just the same as I would a blast from our enemies. The second option seemed more noble.”
Sofi sobs once, shaking her head. Kissing him more. “You’re an idiot.”
Rask’s answering chuckle turns into a cough. Cylus glowers in disapproval, raising his brows over his speks and reaching for one of his devices to scan my friend. Agreeing, “You are an idiot.”
His little machine trills, and he sighs. “I’ll get the boosters you need.”
He moves to leave, but Sofi whines. Rask instantly frowns, going soft with concern. “Not yet,” he rasps, palming the back of Sofi’s head. “She isn’t ready.”
I nearly smile. He’s just as obsessed with our omega as the rest of us. A fact Cylus proves when he drops back into his chair instead of rushing off. “I’m sorry, omega. I won’t go.”
Sofi cries out, groaning. “You have nothing to apologize for. You’re not an idiot!”
Rask sighs beneath her, nuzzling her neck. “I am sorry, my treasure,” he exhales. “So fucking sorry.”
He’s using her word. She snorts through her tears and burrows closer, moving to plaster herself against his less-injured side. “You are not forgiven,” she huffs, but can’t hide her smile.
Rask laughs quietly, then cringes in pain. He still manages to flirt with her, though. Of course.
“I will have to find a way to convince you, then,” he replies, brazenly cupping her ass, nestling his face into her crown. Her perfume swells, and he grins. “Mmm. It shouldn’t take long.”
She slaps his chest lightly. “Shut up.”
Cylus harrumphs. “My medical tekk is the best on Khanos, but it isn’t miraculous. Healing will take half a lapse, and there will be no physical activity for at least the next few days. Probably more like a span.”
I can’t help the guffaw that cracks out of me at Rask’s dismayed, outraged expression. “A span?”
He cuts me a dirty look when I keep laughing. I sit back with a shrug, feeling more at ease than I have in a long time. Despite my best starship lying in ruins just outside our capital.
Truly, Rask did everything he could. The evacuation measures he utilized were effective—engaging the large transport crafts, then the smaller escape pods. The former were able to house more than eighty percent of his force, and they’ve already landed safely back in the zvorn.
I suspect he’s been sketching up this plan in the back of his mind since the day Zazt died. Correcting all the mistakes I made so he would never repeat them.
Normally, the thought would fill me with shame. But right now? I only feel gratitude.
I still need to ask him what the hell happened up there. Why he didn’t attack or retreat. For the moment, I simply smirk at him. “I suppose you’ll have to watch me the next time our omega needs tending. Or the next dozen times.”
The cocky bastard can’t even fathom such a thing. His jaw drops, eyes wide. Even Cylus laughs at his indignant balk.
Sofi giggles, too, the soft sound instantly capturing our focus. We all stare at her like the goddess she is, absorbing her happiness as if it’s a vital element. My middle warms, knots swelling.
Mine.
Ours.
Rask must feel the same, because he suddenly sobers. Casting his gaze between me and our Chief Healer, he asks, “Do we know what’s going on here, with all of us?”
I nod. “We will explain.”
He accepts that easier than I expected. Sofi leans up on her elbow, meeting his eyes. “Will you tell us what happened on the ship first?”
Rask truly cannot say no to her. His face softens again, and he begins talking.
I know the first part—that our forces received an urgent message from the Galactic Council last span, warning that the Drakosians were in hyperspace, heading right for our solar system.
Rask and his troops originally set out to meet them—only, when they did, their scans didn’t find the enemy craft where it was supposed to be. But, rather, on another arc—heading for a system in Quadrant Four, not ours.
He still moved to meet them, as that is our sworn duty—to protect all Galactic Council planets. Since he didn’t know where the Drakosians were heading, he had no way of knowing who might need our help. He only knew the dark planet forces were distinctly unwelcome.
Rask shocks me when he says, “On the fourth day of the mission, we received a message. From Drakos.”
I feel Cylus freeze beside me. We’ve been dealing with the aftermath of our forces clashing with the dark planet’s for nearly a century. They’ve never offered to speak with us… aside from the lie that cost me my twin brother.
The transmission I received that day was from their military commander, but Rask hurries to clarify.
“From the Prince of Drakos.”
The Prince of Darkness, his people call him. My blood chills. “What did he say?”
Rask’s brow folds. “He sent a message, requesting to talk to me. After what happened with Zazt, I refused to change our course or meet his envoy face-to-face, so he agreed to speak over our ship’s holoportal.”
How would they even have that tekk? Our holotabs and window-sized holoportals are Galactic Council inventions. Dark planets shouldn’t have access to them.
Unless they’re building their own versions.
Which would suggest they are much more advanced than our intel suggests.
Rask meets my eyes, clearly thinking the same thing I am. His spiced musk plummets, burning.
“Was it really him when you took the call?” Cylus asks.
Rask nods. “Aye. It was him. Monstrous demon.”
Sofi shivers. Her voice sounds small. “What did he want?”
Rask glances at her, then looks back at me. Imparting his disbelief at his next statement. “He… asked me to move.”
Holy Gods.
What?
I see my own confusion reflected on Rask’s face. The Drakosians don’t ask anything. They invade our vessels and destroy any male or female they come across. Ruining them with magic or medicine we can’t even begin to comprehend, despite Cylus’s best efforts.
Sofi doesn’t understand how shocking this is. She takes his answer at face value, following it with another question. “Did you say yes?”
Rask shakes his head. “I demanded to know what they wanted, and he refused to tell me. I told him we wouldn’t stand down unless they produced permission from the Galactic Council. He said, ‘Very well.’ And the next thing I knew, they had fired.”
He seems dismayed as he recalls, “They didn’t shoot at us, though. They shot around us. Chased us, really.”
Rask would have returned fire. I’m sure he even landed some. But the spiky structure of Drakosian starcrafts makes them nearly impossible to strike. An expert marksman, like our gunners, might get a few of the pointed tips off one of their ships, but I’ve never seen one really go down.
It’s an intelligent design, I have to admit. However begrudgingly.
“They chased you back into Khanos’s space,” Cylus realizes. “Before they blew the ship up.”
Because they knew our evac systems would get nearly all our soldiers back to the planet’s surface in one piece. The whole thing—messaging us, speaking to us, deliberately not landing a true strike until they forced a retreat—it was…
A mercy.
From the dark planet.
But what does it mean?
More importantly: What are they after?