Chapter Ten
Cold as Ice
Our circular bedroom stretched around me like an alien museum.
Glossy chitinous shells, jagged and hung as if on display; the biggest were the size of a boogie board.
I moved closer and trailed my fingers over the porous wall, stopping short of touching the husks.
"Are these... trophies?" I glanced back at Zephyron.
He stood by a round, spongy bed, the curve of his biceps silhouetted against the dim glow of a crystalline lamp. Dark-violet eyes flicked to the shells, and for a moment, something like fear crossed his features. It soon vanished, replaced by his usual stoic expression.
"The smaller ones are Zerlite larvae casings from a swarm attack.
" He held his calloused hands about two feet apart.
"A group can strip a foolish Volardi or Sandari in minutes.
The bigger pincers and claws are from those further along in their growth cycle.
They are slower than the larvae but smarter and crueler. "
The implant suggested more, ranging from rock-like sand hiders to one taller than a house.
"I have never seen a fully developed Zerlite. What you would call a queen, and I hope I never do." His tone, always so controlled, carried a current of unease.
Speaking of... "So, what now?" I tried to keep the shake from my voice. "I'm here and converted so I can carry your children. That's the deal, right?"
"I will not be so cruel as to make you undergo so much in a day. Especially..."
The man who always spoke his mind didn't finish. The rest was obvious: 'On the day I bury former lovers.'
"In the important ways, you are Femeni, and the universe decrees you must be cared for and treated well. It is what our ancestors demand."
"And that means?"
"The impregnation will be done at our medical center. It is easier."
"For who?"
His jaw tightened. "Your father's eyes stare back, and I am reminded of metal and blood, even though you had no hand in his crimes."
Yeah...
Zephyron broke the silence. "It is the rest period." He moved toward the bed, his movements fluid and purposeful. Without ceremony, he stripped off his outer robes, revealing his entire bronzed, muscled body.
My heart pounded because the rumors were true. Eventually, I looked away. He was impressive, with a physique carved from years of battle and duty. The musky scent radiating from him filled the bedroom.
He could smell my sweet musk, too. Other couples would have started already. Would that be so bad? Maybe not, but was it 'me' who wanted it, or these new hormones? Or my Earth ones?
Zephyron slid under the sheets. "You will learn control." I caught the faintest hint of amusement in his tone.
I climbed into the bed, keeping as much distance between us as possible, though his body heat radiated to my side. I lay there, staring through the open holes in the ceiling and the stars beyond.
Wonder if I can see Earth, uh, Sol from here?
I whispered my question, and my new implant said no, although it gave me the local time and converted the calendar. It was late in LA, and over two days since we had left.
Glad I didn't stay up on the ship.
I shifted on the mattress, too aware of an unfamiliar internal pressure and sensitivities I didn't have before. The body wasn't wrong, just not mine, and there's no way I'd sleep right away.
"Can I contact Earth?" I asked, and it came out flat. Other couples might have added 'Love' or 'Sweetheart.' Brandon had teased me a few times, saying I said 'Hon' too much, but that didn't feel right with him.
Zephyron turned his head and then gave a slight nod. He whistled, the tone shifting from low to high in subtle increments. The lights dimmed twice in response.
"We are not yet officially bonded," he said. "However, the Palace AI recognizes you as my intended mate. This grants you access to the communication network and other essential systems. Do not abuse this privilege and be mindful of your words."
The implant guided me to a small, featureless room off the main quarters.
A large-screen monitor grew from the wall and glowed faintly as the connection reached out over the stars.
Less than a minute later, the call connected, and my friend's face appeared.
Nanites reset him back to his mid-twenties, but Brandon's eyes stayed the same and lit up when he saw me.
"Thomas!"
Alen's towering form appeared briefly behind Brandon before he quickly excused himself.
Brandon rolled his eyes. "It's their protocol." He leaned closer and grinned. "You look... great!"
"Omegafication stuff, but not like you don't know. Heh." I turned away for a second before smiling back.
He raised an eyebrow. "Been wondering about your experience. So? Tell me! Thoughts?"
I rubbed the back of my neck, heat rising to my cheeks. "Weird. Really weird. I mean, the lubrication thing?"
He laughed. "Oh my God, yes. It's so bizarre. Like, getting wet there? It's not like I've never used lube, but now it just happens." He smiled and kept it longer than normal. "Dammit, I miss you so much. You have brothers, but I never did until I met you."
The wind came through an opening, stinging my eyes. "I'm sure we can visit, but—"
I know we both said 'no, it wouldn't' in our minds. I asked for a breakdown of 'The Situation,' figuring he'd give it to me straight and not filtered through the Empire's lens.
"Well, everyone's talking about you. To some, you're a hero, and to others, a traitor. Sorry! Westmore's doing his part to make it easier on us, and it could be worse, I suppose. They're really pushing for men to join up, and potentials are waiting to see how you get along."
"So, nobody's really convinced, then."
"'Fraid not. Westmore's looking for more manageable candidates and is spit balling ideas. They even suggested Ryan."
"Will the Volardi want him? No offense, he's attractive, sure, but not Omega-sized."
"There are former triads without a Dara-Beta, so Ryan's a possibility. Someone's thinking about how to, you know... go forward."
"You said 'someone' and you're being vague, Hon. That's two weird things. What's up?"
"Well, it's Parker. He wants to visit."
My eyebrows shot up. "No, it's not just to visit. I know him. What's he want-want?"
"Okay, fine. He thinks your story will be the documentary of the century, and he wishes he could have gotten in on the ground floor with me, and he won't stop talking about it.
He figures that with everything going on, shows and movies will start incorporating Volardi elements, so he wants to be ahead of the curve. "
"Yeah, that sounds like Parker."
Brandon nodded. "He's the only one of us who hasn't really found his footing. Cindy's been swamped with new clients ever since this whole thing started. Maurice is doing great on Doctor Who, and he just got the Olivier award for theater, and Ryan's, well... Ryan."
"He's having trouble finding his next thing?" I asked.
"Yeah, but he'll be fine, and he always lands on his feet. He turned a chance encounter with Alen into a business empire. Parker's contribution is my show from over twenty years ago. I tried telling him if it weren't for his scripts, things would have turned out differently."
Overall, true. The Empire would have found us eventually, and Westmore said they had alien ships from during and after Roswell.
Still, Brandon's superhero show for children called out to the stars, even if they didn't know it.
One fanboy Soturi got on a lifeship, and from that, First Contact. I shared my thoughts.
"Yep. I tried telling him what you just told me. Said it made him a has-been instead of a never-was."
My cheeks puffed out. He could be annoying like Wyatt, but he was one of us. Everyone knew about aliens now. Once it was a unique club, and now? Just like everyone else, no longer with that 'Special Something-Something' or 'Je ne sais quoi' as he'd say.
"Oh, okay fine, he can come."
Brandon blinked. "You sure? Shouldn't you check with Zephyron?"
"I don't need his permission to see a friend." The words came out sharper than I intended, but I didn't backtrack. "Besides, I have rights as his mate, don't I?"
He gave me a tight smile. "You do. Just make sure he knows Parker's coming because Volardi men are big on protocol."
"Seems like I have to do a lot for them."
"I know this isn't easy, especially after what happened, but trust me. There's no man like a Volardi man. Others besides Alen are stubborn, sure, with their 'my way or the highway' vibe." He smiled fondly and probably thought of his mate. "Once they love you, they'll do anything."
I wanted to believe him, but I couldn't forget Zephyron's cold words. There isn't any love.
"Thanks, Brandon. I needed that."
We said our goodbyes, and the screen darkened before three message notifications appeared.
Like on Earth, the implant guessed at my commands and opened them.
The first began with a saved holographic feed, and the room dimmed automatically.
Tydalos emerged from the shadowy surf of his oceanic world, rising as the water clung to his muscles.
The moonlight caught the curve of his shoulders, casting his bronze skin in silver-blue.
A glimmering current crested and retreated while he stayed still, unmoved by the ocean's force.
"Thomas," he said, his voice fluid. "I trust you're adjusting as well as one can when placed in such a barren land." His dark purple eyes shimmered under the triple moons. "It was a privilege to meet you, however brief."
He tilted his head slightly. "I believe Earth holds extraordinary promise. The right pressure and your people could rise faster than any in our archives."
The message blinked out without a goodbye, almost like he wanted me to make a live call back.
The next saved video showed him in a sun-drenched cove.
Light reflected through an alien coral reef in the background.
He stood waist-deep in glowing water, hair slicked back and bare skin gleaming.
"We could have shaped something magnificent.
A new dynasty born of salt and stars, but alas, fate is rarely merciful. " He didn't smile.
The last entry came with nighttime rain.
He stood alone on a black stone pier as jagged lightning lit the horizon.
The surf crashed behind him before he spoke, "I find myself questioning the whims of our ancestors.
I... we deserved more." The water glowed faintly under triple moonlight, rippling gently against dark sand. It looked so perfect.
He lingered and stared straight into the lens before the transmission cut off.
I hesitated, unsure of what to say. Finally, I recorded a short message he'd get later.
"Tydalos," I began, my voice steady. "I'm sorry things didn't work out between us. If the accident hadn't happened, I would've chosen differently. So, I just wanted you to know."
Maybe. Tydalos was cocky, but if that night had gone differently, I might have gone with him. Still, the least I could do was let him down easily with an intergalactic 'It's not you, it's me.'
The urge to contact my brothers tugged, but they wouldn't understand.
Wyatt hooked up just fine with his girlfriend of the month.
Most times, I dated in another town. Joel walked hand in hand with his wife, Hannah.
I could never hold another man's hand back home.
Chase could use his brain and mentally tear down an enemy.
I had to decide if a homophobic bully was worth the trouble because of the follow-up hassle.
Now I could get pregnant. Just another Thomas-only experience. Even if they were gay, I'm the only one in our family besides my sister-in-law who could carry.
I left a quick message on a scheduled delay and made sure I looked and sounded happy. "Hey! I'm okay. Sudo's different, but I'm managing. Love you all and miss you. Tell Dad I hope he's doing fine, and I love him too."
After a second's hesitation, the implant gave the send command.
I already knew it came off wrong—too upbeat and fast, like I'd read lines from a play. If I had been on Brandon's show, the director would have called cut before the scene finished.
Yet the truth would worry them more.
And what was the truth?
I had crossed a line I couldn't uncross. I was an Omega now, and I couldn't drop that like I had my music dreams. The Volardi won not just with my body, but also with the battle over who I was going to be.
***