Chapter 17 #2
“I want to show you everything,” he said into the comfortable silence. “The hot springs in the northern mountains. The valley where the night flowers bloom once a year… the air smells like honey.”
“That sounds perfect.” Her head found his shoulder. “We have time now, don’t we? All the time we want.”
“Forever.” The word was a vow. “You’re stuck with me now, kelarris.”
“Good thing I like being stuck with you.” Her fingers traced patterns on his thigh. The innocent touch sent heat through him. “Even when you’re overprotective and stubborn. When you won’t let me do anything for myself.”
“You love it.”
“I love you,” she corrected, then yawned. “Which is the only reason I put up with it.”
Isan’s medication had sedatives to help her heal. That, combined with the fresh air, was making her exhausted. He shifted to make her more comfortable and she made a protesting sound.
“Not going anywhere,” he assured her. “Sleep if you need to.”
“Under the stars?”
“Why not? The weather’s clear. The temperature’s holding steady.” He pulled the blanket higher. “And I’ve got you.”
She was quiet, and for a moment, he thought she’d dozed off. Then she spoke, her voice soft with sleep. “Zeke?”
“Mm?”
“I’m glad your family sent you away.” The words were drowsy but certain. “Selfish, maybe, but I’m glad. Because now you’re mine. And I’m never letting you go.”
His chest tightened until it ached. “Sleep, kelarris. I’ll watch over you.”
“I know.”
Her breathing evened out, deepening into sleep. He held her as the stars wheeled overhead. His legion purred contentment through his blood and the fragment in Michelle pulsed in time with his own. A harmony he’d never imagined.
He’d spent years thinking he was broken. A monster in the shape of a male. But here, under alien stars with his mate in his arms, he understood the truth. Every scar, every lonely night, every moment of rage and pain. They had all led him here.
To her.
His kelarris shifted in her sleep, burrowing closer and he tightened his arms around her. Whatever came next, they’d meet it together. The thought had terrified him before. Caring for someone meant having something to lose. He smiled as he dropped a kiss on her soft hair and held her closer.
She was his to protect, his to cherish, his to love. And he was hers. The marks on his wrists pulsed with warmth. The gods’ own confirmation of what he already knew.
They were home.
Michelle’s fingers drummed against her thigh as she and Zeke waited outside Prince Isan’s office.
The metal door remained stubbornly closed.
A week of living with their suspicions about Kraath had left a metallic taste in her mouth but now they were here, she was nervous.
Even with Zeke beside her, a constant, solid warmth, the recycled air in the corridor felt too thin to breathe.
“Stop that.” His hand covered hers, stilling the nervous movement. The warmth of his palm sent comfort through their bond, the legion fragment in her mind humming contentment.
“I’m not nervous.” The lie was automatic. HIs eyebrow climbed, and a rueful smile touched her lips. She hated that he could read her so easily. “Fine. What if he thinks we’re paranoid?”
“Then he’s an idiot.” His thumb traced circles on her wrist, finding the spot where her pulse hammered. “Which he’s not. The evidence is solid.”
The door hissed open before she could respond. Prince Isan stood in the doorway, his healer’s scars catching the overhead lights. His expression was neutral, professional, but something flickered in his eyes as he took in their joined hands.
“Michelle. Zeke.” He stepped aside, gesturing them in. “Thank you for coming.”
The office was exactly what she’d expected. Organized, efficient, with medical equipment lining one wall and tactical displays on another.
“Please, sit.” The prince moved behind his desk, a sleek piece of Izaean tech that looked carved from black glass. “Your message mentioned concerns about garrison security.”
Her throat went dry. Now that the moment had arrived, the words stuck behind her teeth. Zeke’s hand found her knee under the desk, a gentle squeeze that said you got this.
“It’s about Commander Kraath.” The words finally came, steady despite her racing heart. “Specifically, something we discovered during the rescue mission.”
Isan’s expression didn’t change, but his fingers stilled on the data pad he’d been holding. “Go on.”
“When we were tracking the ferals, Raaze went through Kraath’s pack.” She leaned forward, the tightness in her chest easing as she moved into familiar territory. “He found a notebook. The contents were encrypted, but not in any Izaean script. They were written in Late English.”
“Late English.” Isan’s voice remained neutral, but he tilted his head in curiosity. “What is that?”
She leaned forward, her words tumbling out faster. “Late English was an Earth language used before Earth pulled itself out of its last technological dark age. We abandoned it when we began using standardized Terran due to the new colonies and linguistic drift.”
“You’re certain?”
“Completely.” She’d found her footing now. “I studied historical linguistics as part of my engineering training. You need it to understand some of the old technical manuals. Late English hasn’t been actively used by humans in over five hundred years. It’s a dead language.”
“And Kraath had notes written in this dead language.” Isan set down the data pad completely, giving them his full attention. “What did they say?”
Michelle glanced at Zeke, who took over smoothly. “Research notes, from what Michelle could translate quickly.”
“What kind of research?” Isan’s fingers stilled on his data pad.
She took a breath. “About the existence of female ferals. Not theoretical notes or speculation, but actual scientific documentation. Genetic markers... that kind of thing.”
Isan nodded slowly, and she got the feeling this wasn’t news to him.
“You’ve done well to bring this to me.” His voice carried weight now, each word carefully chosen. “This information is valuable. More than you know.”
“You believe us?” The words came out on a shaky exhale.
“I believe evidence.” The prince returned to his desk, fingers flying over the data pad. “And what you’ve presented aligns with other concerns that have been raised.”
Zeke’s hand tightened on her knee. “What kind of concerns?”
“The kind I can’t discuss yet.” Isan’s expression softened slightly. “But know that your vigilance is appreciated. Both of you. The garrison owes you a debt.”
“We don’t want to be owed.” She found her voice again, stronger now. “We want the garrison safe. This is our home now.”
Something shifted in Isan’s expression at that. A warmth that hadn’t been there before.
“Yes. It is.”
He stood, clearly ending the meeting. “I need you both to keep this conversation private for now. Can you do that?”
“Of course.” Zeke stood, helping Michelle to her feet with a hand at her elbow. The gesture was automatic now, his protective instincts woven into every movement.
“Good.” Isan moved around the desk to escort them out. “And Michelle? Your linguistic skills might be needed again. Would you be willing to assist if necessary?”
“Without question.” This was her community now, her people to protect.
The door hissed shut behind them, and she sighed in relief. The corridor’s recycled air felt fresh after the intensity of Isan’s office. Zeke’s hand found hers immediately, fingers interlacing with practiced ease.
“That went well.” His thumb traced patterns on her palm as they walked. “He took us seriously.”
“He already knew something.” Her mind raced through the implications. “Did you see his face when I mentioned Late English? He recognized the significance immediately.”
“Means we were right to be suspicious.” Zeke pulled her closer as they navigated around a group of warriors heading to training. “Also means the threat is real.”
The low hum of the garrison’s ventilation system was a constant companion in the corridors. It was almost loud enough to cover the sound of pounding feet until the noise was nearly on top of them.
She turned to see Kal and Tor sprinting toward them, their teenage energy barely contained by the corridor’s confines.
“Zeke! Michelle!” Kal skidded to a stop, his breath coming in excited gasps. “Raaze organized a warball game! Real warball, not the training version.”
Tor’s red eyes glowed brighter with enthusiasm. “He says humans can play too. Something about proving they’re not completely useless.”
She snorted. “That sounds like Raaze.”
“You have to come watch.” Kal practically bounced. “The whole garrison’s heading to the western training ground. Even some of the construction crew want to try.”
“What do you think?” Zeke’s question was soft, meant just for her. “Want to watch Raaze get his ass handed to him?”
“Someone needs to document it for posterity.” She grinned, the weight of the meeting sliding off her shoulders.
“We’re going to be late if we don’t move.” Kal grabbed Tor’s arm, already pulling him down the corridor. “Come on!”
The teenagers took off again, their laughter echoing off the walls. She watched them go, something loosening in her chest.
This was what they’d fought for... not just survival, but life. Real life with all its mundane wonders.
“Shall we?” Zeke gestured after the boys, amusement dancing in his yellow eyes.
“Lead the way.” She squeezed his hand, feeling the pulse of contentment from both parts of the legion—his and the fragment that lived in her now. “But if Raaze tries to recruit me to play, you’re telling him no.”
“Like that would stop you.” His laugh rumbled through the corridor. “You’d probably volunteer just to prove him wrong about human females.”
She grinned. “You know me so well.”