29. Chapter 29
twenty-nine
Sor’en
I’m picking up cuttings and stripping the stems, my cutters wound tightly in my palm. Back at our home, I know my data pad rings with warning after vile warning and threat bleeding into assurances and promises.
I have gathered a lot over the years on General Adder; he knows this.
Knows his favorite toy is now not behaving as it was conditioned to.
It’s not just about losing an asset, a weapon, of course not.
It stopped being that simple ages ago. He was looking forward to retirement anyway, having long paid his dues to the Intergalactic Military.
It was about his house of beloved cards, and how they’re on the edge of crumbling.
It’s that there is a being alive now, in the universe, with the knowledge it would take to ruin him, and it wouldn’t even take a fraction of what I possess.
A legacy he spent orbits building. A reputation of fear that keeps the others he wronged along the path of vitriol away.
Without his death-touch monster at his side during those dealings, the shadow in the night who wipes away his enemies' minds, they will come knocking.
There will be debts to be paid. Sores to settling with creatures who have long memories.
Mine is among the forefront.
My eyes drift toward the dome, taking more hits than I have ever seen before.
Our dome is strong, our males even stronger, but I have no doubt what happened over a kintic ago now was a test run.
Adder wanted to know if the Grux'et poachers could get them in.
They did. Giving them Alliance-branded tech was either exceptionally stupid or exceptionally bold.
He wanted me to know that he knew precisely where I was and what I had to lose.
That, without risking her life, I have nowhere else to run.
My years of flying under the radar of governing groups were done with his shield strapped to my back.
His lies and money were my cloak. I could try to leave my planet, sure.
Might even make it an orbit or two, but I would be found, if not by him then by happenstance, by someone with enough prejudice to shoot on sight.
Hue would be nothing more than collateral.
Something soft plops down around my head, making my attention snap up to find the smiling face of my mate above me. Above the… crown of flowers she just placed on my head.
“It suits you, botanist,” she quips. “I think you’re in dire need of a uniform change.”
And with nothing more than that smile, my chest unknots, that rage that was building slides to the back of my mind once again as I gather her into my arms, forcing her into my lap.
Tilting my head side-to-side, soaking in the warmth of her giggles as I model the crown for her.
“Yes, I am feeling very pretty now that you mention it.”
“But what would the Balla’mar think? We shouldn’t outshine his wonderful robes.”
I growl and mock a snap at her neck. “You do not worry for other males.”
She leans forward, kissing me suddenly, making my entire body fill with a lax warmth that could sate me for a lifetime.
It has been nearly three limtics since Jin’rayal passed, and at first, I was quite worried she would never recover.
My mate barely ate, spending all her time at his grave with Melion.
Something occurred between them then as well.
He became something of a steadying hand for her, and on that second limtic, when she announced she wanted to go into the center to atone for her imbalance, our Vena’lel’s pride had nearly outshone my own.
He has only recently gone back to spending his nights with the spirits in the fields instead of wrapped around our mate.
Of course, our people had thought her apology unnecessary, knowing she is from a different culture that does not think the way we do.
Death here is a beautiful passing from one state into the next, but for most, it is so shrouded in mystery that the worst of our imaginations, the most pungent of our fears, take hold.
We are death, born to it, grown from it.
It is simply another step in life.
And now my mate smiles.
She plays and has come alive in ways I had not thought possible. I believe she grieved more than just the grumpy old male out there in the field.
I am not foolish enough to think she has forgotten her desire to leave, to lay her mother to rest. The research I did on Nysharil culture has helped me to understand much, painfully so. At the very least, now her distance does not feel like such a wound. I still will not allow her to go.
Not when Adder awaits in the stars. Not when I am what I am.
I cannot sully my soul further by being his lackey of pain.
Not when I am so entwined with another. My darkness cannot touch my mate.
I cannot leave her either, risking going mad on a crowded vessel.
Where one target could quickly turn into one thousand.
Then ten, should I never find her within my soul again.
I’m holding her tighter, letting her nestle and love on me with the kind of affection that would drive me to commit travesties in her name should she only look upon me with those stunning eyes and desire it.
I see it, though, the moment she sobers. Taking a deep breath through her small human lungs. “It was mine, Sor’en.”
I frown. “I have been careful not to destroy any further garments you enjoy.”
She huffs. “No, I’m not talking about clothes… the pee flower from Jin’s tent.”
I sit there blankly for a moment, my mind processing her words for so long she shifts uncomfortably in my lap. “Sor’en, I’m trying to tell you that I’m—"
I’m on my feet in the next instant, letting out a celebratory roar so loud the city is no doubt in a frenzy.
My mate cartwheels her arms as I toss her in the air, catching her with a flourishing spin.
“With child! You are with my child!” I laugh like a madman, suddenly pacing the field with nowhere to go, my breathless, stunned mate in my arms.
“Sor—"
Her words cut off as I heave her higher in my arms, pressing my face into the small swell on her stomach.
I had noticed, of course, I had noticed.
There is no inch or divot of her body I am not innately familiar with, but how I had not put two and two together will baffle me until the end of my days.
She giggles. My mate’s belly is very ticklish as I nuzzle my face deeper into it. “So, you are happy?”
I bring her lower in my hold, gently… more gently than ever, setting my precious gift on her bare, odd human feet. “I am honored beyond compare,” I assure her, cupping her face as tears well in her eyes. “Happiness is beneath me. I am soaring far above that threshold.”
She huffs out a little sob. “You’re so weird.”
My eyes widen. “That is why you are itchy. I have no doubt. It is the child's toxins. There has never been a Xyrelith child born to an outsider before. We must get you to a health pod. We—"
She yelps as she’s hauled back into my arms. Swatting my back as I head for my datapad inside to hail a cart. “Sor’en, you’ve stepped on the cuttings!”
“A Xyreliths mother's toxins can counteract the toxin from her child as it grows… your body is not equipped to—"
“I am fine, he would never harm me.”
I stop in my tracks to stare up at my mate. “He?”
She shrugs. “It feels right.”
“A son.”
I close my eyes, setting her back down, suddenly feeling the need to steady myself as I send up a silent prayer to the skies. Goddesses, find me a way to become worthy of my child. Worthy of a son.
A second later, my mate is taken by a swirling, shadowed storm of excitement, her laughter echoing through the field.