Chapter 1
Chapter one
Olzi
It was better to die an honorable death than live out a life imprisoned by the Aunga’ri.
That was the phrase that kept repeating in my head, the phrase that had been drilled into me since childhood.
I slipped the knife I kept hidden in my shoe into my palm, examining the blade.
It was shiny, deadly sharp, and marked with the symbols of a ceremonial blade, visible even in the dim light of my cell.
I wasn’t even sure where I was being held, though there was something in the air that made me think I was inside a spacecraft.
I wasn’t being held with any of my compatriots, but I’d briefly spotted the traitor Cix as I was carted off to this cell.
Why was he with the Aunga’ri? And why would the Aunga’ri bother to transport me to a ship when they could have assassinated me on Earth?
Frowning, I turned the blade over in my hand again, running my thumb along the sharp edge, and watching a bead of blood appear at the tip of my thumb.
I didn’t yelp or start back, just stared at it, tried to come to terms with the pain that was to come.
Pain, then a quick death, and I would feel no more.
“Don’t do it,” a quiet voice said, and I looked up, startled to see my brother’s golden eyes. I’d always thought him to be fearful and soft, but the way he had stood up to me on the shuttle made me wonder. And he was roaming free, wearing clothes that looked more like something a human would wear.
“Cix?” I asked. “What is it to you if I choose an honorable death?”
He smiled, his eyes darting down to my hand. “Please give me the blade, Orzi. This can’t be what you want. It’s brainwashing, the way they drill that concept into our heads.”
“It is our way.” I stared down at the sharp knife, taking a shaky breath.
“Is it truly what you want? You’re so young. You’ve yet to experience love, or fatherhood.” Cix’s voice was pleading, and his eyes were wide and warm. What did he know of love? What did what I wanted matter?
“It is our way.”
He rolled his eyes. “It is a stupid way if it means I lose my brother. I don’t even really like you. You’re sort of a dick. But I don’t want you dead.”
“I’m to listen to a traitor?” I asked, frowning at his insult.
His eyes darted to the door, where a tall human man was waiting, leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed over his chest. The man nodded.
“I’m only a traitor to the Protector and his henchmen, which, in my opinion, doesn’t constitute much.
The Protector is a fucking traitor to the old ways, a self-serving asshole. So I’m not a traitor. I’m a spy.”
I snorted. “You don’t have what it takes to be a spy.”
“He does, though,” the human man said, in our language, which sounded strange, because humans didn’t learn our language, and they certainly didn’t learn it as well as this man was speaking it.
“He was an excellent spy, if we don’t count the one snafu.
” The man’s eyes sparkled, and my brother, my serious, frightened, sweetheart of a brother, laughed.
His face lit up and he shook his head ruefully, suddenly imbued with a confidence I’d never seen in him.
All because this man had complimented him.
“Olzi, meet my husband, Axel,” Cix said, and the tall man pushed off of the wall and stalked over, his bright blue human eyes assessing as they scanned over me.
Cix looked up at him, the worship in his gaze obvious, but right as I was about to snap out an insult about the fallacy in worshipping humans, Axel looked down and his face softened as their eyes met.
He reached up and brushed a hand across Cix’s forehead before turning to me, his face hardening again.
He eyed the knife, his gaze assessing. Axel, like me, appeared to be military-trained, and I could almost hear the calculations he was making.
Could he get to the knife more quickly than I could make a move?
How much damage could the small blade do?
These were the kinds of things I would have thought about if I were in his shoes.
That and the fact that the force field on my cell had narrow bars open for air circulation, which a small knife might slip through.
“It’ll kill him if you do this,” Axel said quietly, his eyes darting to the knife. That was an unexpected worry for a military man to have. “Cix is convinced you have good qualities, that you can be brought around to our way of thinking.”
“And you?”
“I’m not so sure, but I trust my husband’s judgment.”
“The knife is necessary. I have been dishonored,” I said firmly.
Axel tilted his head. “No, you haven’t. You just made some stupid decisions. Some of them will be difficult to come back from. We’re going to have to do something about the fact that you killed a US Senator.”
“That was my stupid decision?” I scoffed. “Not likely.”
“Right, well, maybe you’re not so easy to save. Cix has all kinds of ideas for your punishment, though.”
“Yep. I could think of many fun kinds of torture for him,” Cix said, his eyebrows shooting up. “Like make him do art classes. Or human therapy.” He rubbed his hands together eagerly.
Axel raised an eyebrow at me. “Should I tell him that probably won’t satisfy the United States government, or do you want to?”
“Why aren’t either of you taking this seriously? I am about to perform my final rites.” I turned the knife over in my hand, trying to emphasize the fact that I was definitely about to go through with this. Probably. Most likely, anyway.
Axel’s eyebrows shot up. “Are you accustomed to your brother taking things seriously? I feel more like he vacillates between a panic attack and telling jokes.” He crossed his arms over his chest and stared me down. “Hand me the knife. Or we’ll have a little of my kind of fun.”
Cix frowned. “You’re not offering to fuck my brother, are you? Because that’s weird.”
Axel threw back his head and laughed. “No. I meant some good old-fashioned fighting. That kind of fun.”
“Oh. I’ll step aside for that,” Cix said, folding his hands behind his back and sliding towards the door, as his husband cracked his knuckles.
The two of them were fully insane, and there was nothing else to be said about that.
“You should slide that knife across the barrier, though. You don’t want to get punched by Axel. ”
I looked at the tall human man, wondering if I could take him in a brawl. He had size on his side, but I was quick and agile, and I had a tail.
Behind them, the door slid open, and a massive Aunga’ri, a high-ranking prince by his dark purple coloring, walked in, frowning. “What are you idiots doing?” This guy was ridiculous in his leather pants. Who did he think he was?
“We’re convincing my brother not to kill himself,” Cix said cheerfully. A tiny human woman peeked out from behind the Aunga’ri, her dark hair falling in a glossy curtain behind her.
“That’s your brother?” she asked. “Not as handsome as I would have expected.”
Cix studied me with a critical eye. “I don’t know. I think he’s pretty handsome. A bit more rough around the edges than me, I think.” His eyes widened. “Don’t kill yourself because you’re ashamed of your looks!”
“He won’t kill himself,” the woman said. “Look at the trepidation in his eyes.” And with that, I’d had enough. I let out a roar and threw the knife at the huge purple motherfucker, who was shaking his head at me. It lodged into his upper shoulder.
“Ow,” he said, sounding irritated. He yanked the knife out, frowning, and tossed it aside. “Are you sure we don’t hate your brother?”
“Oh! Bandages!” The woman said, rushing for a box on the wall. “Were you supposed to leave the knife in?”
The Aunga’ri snorted. “I’ll be fine. It’s just a scratch.” Typical purple asshole posturing.
Cix smirked. “Olzi, meet my other husband, T’ukka, and my wife, Mia. I’d appreciate it if you refrained from throwing knives at my loved ones in the future.”
What the actual fuck?