Chapter Thirteen
Kael
Serenya was asleep.
In my bed.
My claws dug into my palms as I stared at the portal between us. I could have left it open, but I’d closed it for my sake.
I was losing control.
She was nothing like I’d expected. The more time I spent with her, the more I could see she wasn’t like her father. General Hale looked at every situation for a way to benefit himself, but Serenya was so open I could read her fear and uncertainty plain on her face.
That didn’t mean he wouldn’t manipulate her into doing something she otherwise wouldn’t.
Blowing out a breath, I forced myself to turn away from the wall and cross to the other side of the room.
I would usually be on the bridge keeping an eye on the reports as they came in, but I’d let myself stay with her instead.
It was the first time the Zeydrassk had ever begun a journey without me at the controls.
I dropped into the seat at my desk and rubbed my face before running my fingertips over the place where she had traced my kethra.
I was thankful there had been no other Morraki in the corridor, and I made a mental note to check who was monitoring the viewers at the time, and which view they were on when my tail went rogue.
My kethra almost flared again at the memory.
I couldn’t lose control like that where it could be seen, or it would lend credence to those who said bonding made an alpha weak.
I didn’t fear facing a challenge, but whispers in the dark could undermine even the strongest if the coward didn’t face me directly.
Forcing myself to focus, I looked through the recent reports and double checked our location and the route plotted for our return.
Shyrn passed, and yet Serenya did not stir from my bed.
I approached the portal multiple times, listening for signs that she’d awakened, and eventually the worry grew too great to ignore.
I pressed the button to pull back the wall that separated us.
The scent hit me first, thick, musky, and overly sweet. It coated the back of my tongue, making my groin stir even as my brain registered the bitterness of pain.
Serenya was curled on her side at the far edge of the bed, back to the room. The blanket was tangled around her hips, and I could see the dampness of her hair from where I stood.
“Serenya?”
I kept my voice low, hiding my concern, but when she didn’t respond, I moved to the foot of the bed. She still wore the clothing she’d had on when I left her, and it clung to her body, wet with sweat.
She had seemed better when we sat together and I told her the tale of Zaryth, but they had said the side effects of the serum would peak on the third drazh. It seemed her fever had returned while she slept.
I moved to the side of the bed, crouching so I could see her face. She clung to a pillow that carried my scent which stirred alpha satisfaction, but her breathing was shallow and quick, betraying her pain.
“Serenya?”
A groan escaped her throat. She shifted minutely, but the movement was weak.
“It hurts.”
Her whisper was raspy, her lips barely moving.
I wanted to reach for her, but I curled my claws into my palms instead.
“Where?”
If she had been one of my warriors I could call a Kethral, but Saed was the only one aboard the Zeydrassk with knowledge of Human medicine, and he’d already said her pain and fever would grow.
“Everywhere.”
Her voice broke on the last syllable.
I couldn’t sit and do nothing.
Rising, I filled a glass with water, then found the container she’d brought with her when she came aboard. My only hope was that she’d brought the medication she’d taken while I was at her home with her.
Most of the contents seemed to be clothing.
There were a few curious items I didn’t know the purpose of, but it wasn’t until I opened a small compartment that I found the red and white bottle from her home.
There were other bottles in the compartment as well, so I grabbed them all, carrying them with the water to the table beside the bed.
I didn’t wait for her to attempt to sit up herself. Settling on the edge of the mattress, I brushed her sweaty hair back from her face before sliding my hand behind her neck.
I gave her time to resist, but she didn’t. She only whimpered when I eased her toward me and pressed her against my side as I shifted my arm to support her.
She was so small she tucked against me perfectly, her weight no strain for even one arm, but warmth soaked through my korrvek from her like she’d been out in the dunes during Vorrada. Even a Morrak that warm would be considered feverish.
“Your skin is burning.”
She groaned before responding.
“I feel like I’m dying.”
I shifted to cradle her more fully, letting her head rest against my chest.
“You are transforming, not dying.”
She huffed but it turned into a whine and every part of me tightened. Her scent had changed enough that my instincts registered her as an omega, and the sound of her pain made me want to rip things apart to end it.
“Doesn’t feel like there’s a difference.”
The little tremor in her voice twisted something in my gut.
“You need water. And medicine.”
She trembled as she lifted a hand to accept the bottle she’d used before, and when she couldn’t seem to turn the lid, I took it back from her. It resisted at first, but it was no match for a warrior used to wielding a blade the size of her leg.
“Here.”
She cracked open eyelids she’d let drift closed, huffing when she spotted the mangled top of the bottle. I would get a new one to store the tiny tablets she shook from the container, but what mattered now was easing her pain.
I held the water to her lips, not trusting her to handle the weight of the cup when she seemed so weak. She sipped and then filled her mouth, tipping her head back to drop in the medication.
When she tried to push the water away I couldn’t stop my growl. Her body froze, muscles tightening as her eyes widened, and I reeled the noise in.
“Drink. You need it.”
She looked like she wanted to argue but she let me press the cup to her lips again and she took a few more swallows before turning away. I knew she needed more but too much at once could make her sick, so I didn’t force it.
I lowered her gently against the pillows and rose to fetch a piece of cloth from the elimination closet. Wetting it, I wiped her brow, dragging the cloth down her neck, then across her collarbones.
If we were already bonded I would have cleansed her whole body, but I didn’t want to cause her more distress by crossing boundaries she wasn’t ready to leave behind. If she wasn’t comfortable sharing a bed, she wouldn’t welcome something that intimate.
Setting the cloth aside, I took her hand in mine and began massaging the joints. Pain lived in the small bones and the spaces between them when the body fought illness and massaging them was a way I could help her fight.
I should have been in the tactical chamber. Rhydek had pinged me twice already to remind me of the meeting, but I couldn’t leave her.
Not like this.
I focused on making her comfortable until the soft sounds of her breathing eased and her eyelids fluttered with restless dreams. A crease formed between her brows when I rose from the bed, but she remained asleep as I collected the cup and cloth.
I tossed the latter in the bin for washing, then refilled the first and was placing it beside her once again when the chime from the door broke through the silence of my quarters.
There were few with access to this level, and I couldn’t ignore the summons if it was serious enough for them to come to my door.
I closed the portal between the rooms as I passed, instincts already urging me to protect the omega, especially in her moment of weakness.
Rhydek stood in the corridor when the door slid back, tail flicking once before stilling.
“You did not report to command briefing.”
“Serenya is fevered.”
“She was fevered when she arrived. It’s expected.”
My eyes narrowed at his tone.
“It’s worse.”
Rhydek took two steps closer, his scent sharp with agitation.
“She is not Morraki. She is not yet your mate. You do not need to—”
“I do.”
My voice came out quiet, but it landed like a blow, and Rhydek recoiled. I watched his expression shift through conflict, disdain, and finally reluctant acceptance as his flaring kethra settled.
He folded his arms across his chest, a low growl vibrating in his throat that I chose to ignore.
“You’re not thinking clearly.”
I bared my teeth, the expression nothing like a Human smile.
“You’re assuming I’m thinking at all.”
He snorted, but the edge of his irritation eased.
“They’ll say you’re going soft.”
I sighed, sagging against the wall.
“I can show them how hard my ridges are.”
Rhydek grunted, looking away before speaking again.
“This path you’re walking… it is not without cost. I know the alliance is important, and bonding the Human females buys their kin’s loyalty, but it’ll be for nothing if you’re no longer Torvakai.”
“I’m aware.”
His gaze flicked toward the closed wall.
“She smells different. More like us.”
I dipped my chin, resisting the urge to block his view of the closed portal. He was no threat to her, even if my instincts didn’t want another alpha near her.
“I know.”
He looked like he wanted to say more, but thought better of it.
“Everything is on track, and there’s no sign of Skarashk. I’ll handle the bridge until she’s better.”
I dipped my head again, the fist around my heart loosening.
“Thank you.”
As he turned away, he met my eyes once again, his golden orbs flashing.
“Don’t forget who you are, Kael.”
I didn’t answer. There was no risk of forgetting, just like I couldn’t escape the weight of those depending on me.
I returned to her side once he left, brushing a new cloth over her forehead.
There was a faint shine along her hairline, the first hint of her kethra waking beneath her skin.
It looked to be pale amber, a color that would almost blend with her tan flesh.
It was a sign of the Mareshk line, one known for strategists and tacticians, and close to the color of Earth’s sun.
I hoped that was a good sign. She would need to be strategic to navigate her new home without incident. I could only hope she understood how delicate her position would be until our bond was complete.
Then the color would deepen to crimson, and the luth’rein would shift.
But even pale, in sweeping lines instead of crescents, it was beautiful.
Her eyelids fluttered as she curled towards me, her nature drawing her to its match.
“Kael…?”
“I’m here.”
She sighed, then her breathing deepened again.
She slept the rest of the drazh, and well into the following. The mid-drazh meal had already been delivered when I received a message from General Hale.
His face stared at me from the screen on my desk, his pleasant expression not fooling me.
“Commander Kael, I’d like to see my daughter, if it’s not too much to ask.”
“No.”
The word was out of my mouth before I could stop it. I was just as shocked as he was, but I managed to keep it hidden as he sputtered.
“I haven’t seen her since we boarded. You can’t keep her from me. I need to know she’s safe.”
I doubted his concern was truly for her or her safety. From what I’d seen, it was more likely he wanted to assure his hooks were still anchored in her.
“She is with me, and I can assure you she is safe. You should have no concerns.”
His mouth worked as he tried to come up with what to say that wouldn’t risk the alliance we were supposed to have.
“I’m sure you would protect her from outside threats, but you are still a stranger. She has to want to see her father. I’m the only person she truly knows onboard this ship. Keeping her secluded is a bit… concerning, given the newness of our circumstances.”
I bit my tongue so I wouldn’t say I was certain she wouldn’t want to see him.
“She is unwell and is resting. The third day of the transformation is the hardest. When she is well enough, I will ask if she wishes to see you.”
I cut off the communication before he had a chance to respond.
I didn’t care if it was rude, he was not the final voice on the United Earth Council, and they needed us far more than we needed them.
The Humans provided a convenient link to the Qy’shaeuhl, and we were willing to supply the protection and transport they required for their colonies in the hopes of getting the Lifeforge technology and Auralis crystals from the Qy’shaeuhl, but unlike the Humans, our world wasn’t at risk if the alliance failed.
Not yet at least.
The Skarashk were making their way through Kethrion and could make it to Morrakan at some point, but the Morraki fleet was more than enough to deal with one incursion. The problems arose when they overtook new planets, or if my fleet was divided.
I didn’t want to fight a war on two fronts if I could help it, even if our ships and weapons were superior to anything the Humans could throw at us.
Sighing, I stood and made my way back to the bed where Serenya tossed restlessly. I was doing the best I could for the Morrak, and I had to hope that claiming a Human didn’t turn out to be a mistake, because it was too late to turn back.