Chapter Nineteen #2
Zephyron finished for him. "...your past words carry weight now. Intent can be claimed by another Soturi."
'Intent,' I'd learned, wasn't just a passing thought or a path not taken.
It could bind you like a vow and allow someone else to claim you, no matter what you wanted.
The word washed over me like a jail sentence.
Brandon said the Volardi were strict about protocol, but I couldn't actually be torn from one man and handed to another. Could I?
Then again, I was taken from Earth.
"Look!" shouted Parker. "I... I didn't do it.
I mean yeah, I have, or rather had a camera.
.. which can't verify my story since it's under the sand with a Zerlite Queen and lots of babies with teeth, needles, and claws.
" He slapped his forehead a few times, and his eyes grew shiny.
"Thomas, I would never do anything like this.
I wouldn't have hurt your big guy or put you in this position. "
"Yeah, I know," I said.
He blinked, studying my face. "You do?"
Zephyron stared. "The scribe did not do this. He is between a Femeni and Dara. Neither have the stomach for battle or espionage."
"Okay, thanks. I guess."
It helped, but it was like saying my trailer park family didn't steal, because we'd be too stupid to know how. I could be nicer.
Parker turned to me. "So you believe me? Just like that?"
"Yes, and I know you wouldn't let the race happen without recording it. You had to know the knife-dancers or Zephyron would smash your probe." Although technically, I kicked it down the hill before the sand ate it.
"Yeah, I guess it balances out. A non-guilty verdict means I got no footage."
"Actually, I asked one of the knife-dancers to have the security probes record the race from different positions. It won't have your camera eye and artistic angle, but it's something, and there are a bunch of them. Wide shots, close-ups, some from behind, and overhead. Anything you'd need."
The big eyes that stared back were of a kid on his birthday. He bit his lip, and he would have hugged me if not for Zephyron. He mumbled 'Thank you' several times before General Westmore coughed. "If we're done with film school, our aquatic friend has more to share."
The monitor shifted, displaying familiar Earth news feeds. Tydalos' square jaw filled the screen, and the backdrop shimmered with the deep, endless blue of his watery kingdom. I'd be lying if I didn't imagine just sinking into it. Old habits die hard.
He smiled, posing for the camera as his expression turned serious.
"Earth's people suffer," Tydalos said. "They struggle, and their waters choke with pollution.
Solutions will come, but Thomas' wisdom on where to best apply our gifts would quickly bridge the gap between Earth and the Volardi Empire. Envision remedies instead of..."
The video changed to a recording of the Zerlite attack. "Thomas is wise, but a water child was forced to a harsh desert prison, and you can see the results."
The footage showed everything from attacked villages to Zephyron, bloodied and brutal, killing Zerlites with a rock. To me, he looked magnificent, but how would it play on Earth?
"A child of Earth gave me intent, and yet he suffers under the domination of this Zephyron! Tell me, would you want your loved one to be in terror from a man such as this?" The image of my man, holding a bloody rock and grimacing, slowly turned dark grey, and ominous music played.
Then came a video clip of him lifting my father into the air, and pixelated blocks censored where he stabbed him.
Tydalos' voice lowered. "And consider this. The elder Thomas was spared, while his son remains in danger. This Zephyron keeps the younger Thomas not as a mate, but as a way to punish the father."
My voice quivered. "Tell me he doesn't have a chance, not that it matters because I won't go."
Westmore sighed. "That's the thing," he said carefully. "The Sentinel of the neighboring province recently stepped down. Reasons were listed as advanced age, but it's suspicious because Tydalos was given temporary stewardship. He sees an opening."
"Do Volardi from different planets get, uh, stewardship?"
"I cannot remember any time that has occurred," said Zephyron.
"Why is he so stuck on me? He's got a kingdom, with access to other potential Omegas, not that he deserves one."
Westmore leaned forward. "Kingdom? Try planet. With you as an official mate back on Earth, he can petition for stewardship. Femeni traditionally listen to their Soturi, and he figures he can do the same with you, an Omega."
"The treaty says the planet is ours," I said.
"On paper," said Westmore, "Earth would still rule itself, but in practice? Tydalos would hold the reins. He's after you because he wants a planet."
"And he doesn't like being told no," I muttered.
Parker scratched his chin, thinking. "From a certain angle, this all lines up. He wouldn't risk something like this unless he was sure. When the Volardi fail, they don't just lose, they lose face. That means he's confident he's got a real shot at ruling Earth, even by proxy."
Zephyron sneered. "The man is a greedy aquatic fool, and I will not allow him near my Omega."
"That's my call," I said, holding his stare. "And yeah. We're not meeting him."
Zephyron stood still, his gaze piercing yet unreadable. For a moment, I thought he might explain why he had to fight. My eyebrows climbed in surprise. Was he agreeing? Volardi logic could be primal, even rigid, but maybe common sense wasn't entirely alien to them.
Westmore's face darkened. "Tydalos issued a public Decree of Intent."
Zephyron straightened, and his expression sharpened. "Understood. Then, I shall fight him to the death."
***