Chapter Eleven
The Killing Moons
Morning came with an argument.
Zephyron's voice ricocheted off the light sandstone walls, with the tone of someone used to getting his own way. "You dared to speak to another Soturi?" His towering frame loomed closer.
I stood my ground and stared up. "I spoke to Brandon. Alen excused himself, and I couldn't tell who'd be there when I called."
"Then explain Tydalos! You delivered a message to him."
"I was being polite, and he deserved to hear back and know, uh, why."
Why I'm with you and not him. I probably wouldn't have picked him either, but he seems better. Especially now.
Zephyron's voice dipped. "Femeni and Omegas do not speak to unbonded Soturi."
"I sent it on a delay, so technically, I didn't speak to him."
"Any communications are frowned upon."
"Why?"
His jaw tightened. "It is protocol. Actions such as yours open the door for implications."
I threw up my hands and repeated his last word. "You think I'm throwing myself at him, don't you? It was a way to let him down easy. You know? Work on Human-Volardi relations like we're ordered to do. Besides, he contacted me first!"
Zephyron's lips pressed into a thin line, and he whispered, "Speaking to him directly, in such a manner would make others think..." He trailed off, and his biceps flexed.
"Okay, some really messed-up things happened, and there's no way to fix them. I made a deal, but let's get one thing straight. I'm not your property. You don't get to tell me who I can and can't talk to."
His violet eyes darkened. "We shall see." His voice, low and dangerous, sent a shiver down my spine, "I gave you freedom, and you used it poorly."
"Excuse me? You gave?"
"Indeed! I let you speak freely, and you chose to use it to undermine me."
A soft whistling chime vibrated through the throne room, melodic and strangely calming. Zephyron straightened immediately, and his expression cooled. "The Sandari," he announced. "This topic is terminated."
Oh, we are not done.
Three smooth chairs, as if made from sandstone, grew from the floor. Zephyron's larger one sat in the middle. After looking at the two, he directed me to the smallest one, leaving the medium-sized one empty.
Two tiny male Sandari entered, their thin frames draped in lightweight desert robes. They walked with a cautious grace, as their long fox ears swiveled toward every gust, whistling wind chime, and background noise. Large, reflective golden eyes flickered between Zephyron and me.
I'd seen aliens, but the Volardi looked Human enough to forget.
The Sandari? Full-on alien-alien. Their faces were a blend of fox and feline features, and their skittish nature reminded me of feral dogs that approached our trailer back in Georgia.
Always hungry or thirsty for an uncooked hot dog or some water.
Zephyron motioned them to approach, his tone brisk, "State your case."
One stepped forward; his voice smooth but edged with desperation. "Irrigation, Sentinel. The wells remain dry, and we need assistance."
Zephyron's response came without hesitation, "No."
The Sandari's ears flattened, and they bowed their heads in submission. "We beg."
"Your settlement grows too large, and our scientists have not thoroughly tested the soil. Water is ill-advised, as are excavations."
Again, their ears lowered, and then they turned to leave once given permission.
"You said no for water to grow crops?"
Zephyron's shoulders rose. "Their request comes with complications, so do not mistake a no for cruelty."
Or cruelty for a no.
More entered, each presenting their own requests: tools for farming, supplies for shelters, and medical assistance. Each time, Zephyron listened, considered, and if he agreed, it always came with conditions.
"Is this the Volardi way?" I asked during a break. "Give, but attach a string?"
Zephyron's gaze lingered as if debating his words. "You know nothing of our politics or leadership. Without balance and structure, they would continually ask and have us do everything. Then they would die."
The last guest, a bent, aging Soturi, entered silently. His once-broad shoulders had hunched, and thin white hair faded at the sides, as did his purple chest flecks.
His equally old and bald Dara stood at his side, neither really looking at me.
The implant filled in the information: He ruled the neighboring kingdom where we had stopped on our first day. The province's name didn't come.
They greeted each other as old friends, with a long hug. Whispers of condolences came after. Zephyron pressed his palm against the Dara's open hand and bowed slightly. He, too, mentioned Zephyron's mates buried under the sand and promised to always remember them.
The older Soturi looked me over and spoke with a scratchy voice, "This is your Femeni-Omega?"
Zephyron nodded.
"He is from an undeveloped planet, both primitive and polluted with water, is he not?"
"Yes, and he's had difficulty adjusting to a Volardi world."
The older man sighed. "That is our burden, to uplift worlds so they may know the benefits of culture and civilization. Is he with child?"
"Why don't you ask me instead?"
His faded purple eyes lit with delight. "Oh, he has fire! Wild ones like him are the best in the bedroom."
Zephyron didn't respond, and I threw mental daggers into his purple eyes.
I can defend myself, but I needed to see if he would.
As I waited, my implant pinged with a message from Tydalos.
A raised vein from Zephyron's temple said he'd seen the notification too.
The heat in his eyes made it clear. Don't go.
I got up.
I knew walking out would offend them, but I couldn't sit, be mocked, and treated like livestock. The older man muttered jokes about emotional Femeni. His laughter faded as the metal door shut.
Tydalos' sun-kissed face filled the screen as I activated the live connection. Features sleek yet muscled like a dancer, screamed swimmer, and a slight wet sheen said he was recently in the ocean.
Damn! Sinking into cool water sounds lovely.
"You meant it, didn't you?" he began. "You would have picked differently. Perhaps you had already chosen before the incident?" I said nothing.
"I will take that as my answer, Thomas of Earth.
" Images showed my planet from above. Its oceans were scarred by mile-long garbage patches and oil spills.
Rivers choked with toxins. Forests had been reduced to skeletal remains.
Animals huddled on shrinking icebergs with haunted eyes.
He said nothing since the message didn't need anything more.
Tydalos' voice deepened, "Earth's potential is immense. Yet, it suffers and will continue to do so as our technology slowly trickles in. What if we were to release the floodgates?"
The images shifted again. Cities floated on the surface of sapphire-blue oceans, powered by energy harnessed from the tides.
Water filtration systems purified the most polluted rivers in seconds.
Vibrant marine ecosystems teemed with life, alongside Human communities.
He even showed an underwater domed city off the Georgian coast.
"I see a future where Earth isn't merely used for Omega production or what your people call pop culture," Tydalos continued. "I see your people thriving within the natural aquatic beauty. With my help, Thomas—with our help—we could fast-track solutions to make your planet a jewel of the galaxy."
Tydalos leaned closer into the frame, and his voice softened.
"I also see you, not a subordinate or relegated to provide more Volardi, but an equal.
A true partner. Your ideas would carry weight, and together, we'd guide our people to something greater.
Isn't that what you want? To matter and build a legacy? "
It's a desert here, but the air turned hot in my lungs. On Sudo, I was here to give my mate nothing but children. Tydalos wasn't offering me an escape, but family with additional meaning.
As I stayed silent, he continued. "I know of Zephyron. His ways are old, rooted in tradition and protocol."
That's for damn sure.
"He sees the world as it is, not as it could be. You deserve more and a mate who values your ideas. A true partner."
My heart pounded. The images of my home lingered on the screen, glowing faintly in the dim room. A future so close yet so distant.
"Imagine it, Thomas," Tydalos finished, his voice a velvet whisper. "Earth transformed with a galaxy knowing who to thank."
After a deep breath, I spoke, "I appreciate what you offer, and it sounds wonderful." There were so many reasons to say yes, and two reasons underground to say no, besides my father's safety. "I'm with Zephyron now, and it's not right for me to, uh, look at another man."
"Even when you were forced into a union? It's been only a few days, and you could petition."
My throat dried. An escape? No, not like this.
"No. I don't want to do that."
"You don't want to?"
"I don't."
I nodded and caught a slight smile before he turned serious. "Circumstances have exiled you to a desert wasteland. There are options to protect your father and remain in favor with powerful Volardi."
"I got what I deserve," I mumbled.
"And who deserves you, Thomas? A warlord who disrespected you and attempted to kill your father, or your planet?"
Our communication flickered off and left me imagining a life with everything I ever wanted.
***
The days blurred together in a haze of tension and dust. Sudo offered no rest in the relentless heat and dry winds.
Zephyron and I exchanged words sparingly, and when we did, the air crackled with unspoken hostility.
I disrespected him with the older Soturi by leaving, and he didn't stand up for me. Nobody budged.