Chapter 52
Fifty-Two
The following morning when Autumn woke, she stretched her hand across the width of the bed searching for Dante, but the linen was cold beneath her palm. Destroyers whizzed by the balcony window vanishing through the cloudless atmosphere. The metropolis glittered in the distance. A faint smog settled above the city.
Her forehead pulsated and she tried her hardest not to be angry because, not only did he leave without her, he left without saying goodbye.
As she went to stand, her body shook beneath her weight. Droplets of sweat trickled down her forehead followed by chills. She rubbed her arms over her shoulders as her teeth chattered together. A wave of dizzying illness hit her like a brick wall. She covered her mouth taking deep controlled breaths, willing away the sensation. Her head hit the pillow once more and she pulled up the blanket to keep herself warm.
When she closed her eyes, she felt the springs pop. Her heart skipped a beat. But when she glanced, a pink snout followed by a rough tongue licked her across the face, leaving a wet streak. Mr. Hiss settled beside her, purring. She combed her fingers gently through his hot-pink and onyx striped fur.
“Are you unwell?” a voice asked from across the room. She shivered, glancing. Dante. She tried to press out a smile, but she was too weak.
He approached the bed wearing his blood-red armor, appropriate for battle. His frightening horned helmet sat in the crook of his arm.
He removed his glove, pressing the back of his hand to her forehead. Lines crept across his blue brow.
“You have a fever.”
“I’m fine,” she reassured him, waving her hand. “I guess all that time on First finally caught up with me. I haven’t had a good night’s sleep in months.”
He set his terrifying helmet down on the edge of the bed and walked over to the bathroom. He reemerged with a damp cloth. With his fingers he blotted it against the skin of her face, cooling her body temperature down. Relief trickled through her.
“I know you thought I would leave without saying goodbye. I would never?—”
“I’m still coming with you,” she said between chattering teeth, too weak to sit up but defiant nonetheless.
“You’re sick and you need to rest,” he kissed her dry, chapped lips.
Suddenly, another bout of sickness wreaked havoc through her stomach. She covered her mouth as he swept her up, running into the bathroom and placed her in front of the toilet where she vomited up her guts.
She groaned, wiping her mouth against her arm. Embarrassment swept through her. She didn’t want him to see her like this. Weak, sick, and disgusting.
“Here, I’ll help you get cleaned up.” He held her by the sink, where she gargled repeatedly. Her golden-olive complexion paled, and her matted curly hair stuck to the back of her neck. She looked awful.
He carried her back to the bed, where she collapsed into the sheets, groaning. Her white camisole and satin cloud shorts were sweat-soaked.
“Do you look this bad when you get sick?” she asked.
“I’ve never been sick, not once,” he winked. It figured, Mr. Invincible.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a scroll tied with a red satin bow, placing the parchment in her hand. She stared at it and began to undo the ends.
“Wait,” he raised his palm, stopping her in her tracks. “Don’t open that unless there’s an emergency.”
She rolled her eyes and continued, disregarding his warning. She needed to know what was inside.
“I’m serious,” he stopped her again. “And if you must open it, and I pray that you don’t, keep the contents to yourself. Don’t share it with anyone and don’t call or text the information or it risks being compromised.”
She nodded slowly, rolling over onto her side. She could barely function in this state. She held the scroll in her palm, staring at it, wondering about the details it contained.
Her vision began to fade and her eyes fluttered closed. A pair of lips hit her cheek. When she opened her eyes again, he was gone.
Dante entered the cockpit of his destroyer, pulling his horned battle helmet onto his head. His hands quaked, sweating within the confines of his gloves as he took the control seat and buckled his harness in place. This mission was far too dangerous, so he preferred to travel alone. He refused to risk Autumn and couldn’t imagine what would happen to her if she fell into the wrong hands again .
The Grand Supreme— sickness wrecked Dante’s gut. His fists quaked. Why him?
His chest burned. He hated leaving his wife while she was ill, but he had no other choice. Her father was in very real danger, more danger than he could let her know—lest he cause her more worry in her weakened state and risk her coming along.
Whether he liked him or not, he had to help. And he most certainly did not care for her father, his eyes thinned to slits . Not after their interactions on Earth.
The destroyer hovered and rose from the docks in pure silence. All he could hear was the sound of his own breath gently pulling from his throat. As he navigated his way through the clear blue cloudless sky, he admired his home city of Giarldinia for what promised to be the last time.
No, don’t think that way, he scolded himself. You’re the Emperor of Nine Hundred and Eighty Skies. You’re the mightiest warrior the 24 Universes has ever seen. You’re undefeated. Too bad he couldn’t get himself to believe it.
The Grand Supreme was untested in battle and for good reason.
The gem-hued buildings shimmered in the early morning sunlight. He closed his eyes for a long moment, inhaling after taking in the magnificent sight. He’d try to remember his home world this way, always.
When he passed through the rainbow layers of the atmosphere, his ears popped as he ascended higher and higher into the great unknown. Finally, he entered the lonely darkness of deep space. Shadows pulled against his blood-shade armor, cloaking him whole. Coolness settled against his skin.
Surge turned slowly in a cobalt-blue ball beneath his ship. He clicked a few buttons and pulled a few switches, transmitting a silent signal. The forcefield faded his home world to darkness, protecting it from plain sight as he’d done with Earth.
When he turned the ship, the rest of the destroyers were precisely where he instructed them to wait. He zipped through the stars passing them by. They followed him wherever he commanded, navigating his way through the vastness of space.
While he traveled, a great sadness consumed him before his lips flickered into an uncontrollable smile. He burst into laughter on the verge of hysteria. Bloodlust consumed him. Someone was in for a rude awakening.