Chapter Twenty
Echoes in the Sand
"What?"
"That was before I heard the name."
My voice rose. "Why does it matter?"
"The Decree bears the history of Thalvaron, an ancestor who fought not just for honor, but for legacy and rules to battle. To refuse would be to bring shame and dishonor to his memory."
My jaw tightened and I kept quiet, for now.
Westmore's grim face flickered on the video feed. "This isn't just about honor, Zephyron. If Tydalos wins, the ramifications for Sudo and Earth would be catastrophic. You said it yourself: The man is greedy. Thomas is his first step."
Zephyron's serious gaze turned to us all. "This is not your culture, and I do not require your assistance, only observation. I understand a Soturi's mind enough to know his intent. Only I can stop him."
"By killing him with a blade?" I asked.
"No. I gave up my weapon to save your father and must fight him without a weapon of my own."
The room fell into a suffocating silence. "Does he have the same restrictions?" I asked.
"No."
***
Brandon opened with updates, just like always.
A few Volardi Daras and Soturi got attacked during a diplomatic function in Florida.
With others, Humanity picked a side with pro-Volardi marches in Canada and Australia.
In the international chaos, Dad had disappeared.
Westmore claimed he was fine but released no details, just that we shouldn't stress ourselves.
I didn't buy it, but I hadn't felt any worry from my brothers. For now, I let it go.
But if I don't hear back...
I forced the thought out as Brandon continued with Ryan at his side, who still had his feathered blond hair and loose and colorful shirts.
Both read from paper-thin tablets. "I confirmed it with Alen," said Brandon.
"The Decree of Intent and defending against it is one of those ironclad things in Volardi culture.
If Zephyron refuses, it says, 'Come and take everything, because I'm not man enough to stop you. '"
"Soturi," Brandon and I said in unison before grinning. Sure, I'm a man, but this 'Bro-Honor' sunk its teeth into their society eons back and never let go.
Axios and Solis stood next to me. Their DuraMetal bodies looked whole, but the memory crystals were still healing. It left their movements a little off. Memories of my mom struggling to pick up a coffee cup returned.
"We've confirmed the data," Axios said, his tone dry. "The Decree cannot be refused without releasing a claim."
Solis tilted her head, her voice softer. "I admit, the thought of Zephyron fighting for you would be glorious! Remember him during the Zerlite attack?" She spun, imitating his battle moves, then tipped. Axios caught her so she wouldn't hit the floor.
"Is everyone here just cool with killing?"
Ryan's gaze sharpened. "It's not about being cool with it. You know how different they are. How they think."
The door behind me hissed open, and Zephyron entered. He and Ryan locked eyes for a moment before the businessman turned away.
Zephyron's voice stayed low and steady. "The battle will happen." His eyes bore into mine. "If my culture troubles you Thomas, then perhaps Tydalos was right, and you would not be happy here. I wish for the solution to the gap between us."
"It's a disagreement, not a gap we can't cross. It's about finding another way."
He took a breath. "No. There is more. What else weighs on you?"
Well...
I'd mentioned it to my doctor, but this entire body felt wired wrong lately. I cried over I Love Lucy because she couldn't be part of the show. Then I burst into tears because I was crying too much. I'd handle all this better if I weren't carrying a surge of hormones along with everything else.
"I just want time together," I said quietly. "No politics. No battles. No races. Just us, but it's not happening because there's always another political event, or an update from Earth. I just want something that's ours, without the whole galaxy watching."
Zephyron stepped closer, his voice rising like the desert wind. "You needed only to speak your desire. You do not understand how long I have waited for your words."
***
Thin trees swayed, filtering harsh sunlight into soft patterns across the ground. It was now alien to see grass blades scattered in patches, but still! Alive and green! The air smelled fresher, minus the arid, earthy tang of Sudo's deserts. It hinted at something sweet and floral.
Under the shade, Zephyron laid out exotic fruits, tender cuts of meat wrapped in large leaves, and what looked like Earth-style bread, dusted with golden powder.
The colors were a bright contrast against the muted dry rock and sand.
Except for the floating probes keeping guard, I could almost believe I was in Nevada, camping during a day trip from LA.
"You did all this!"
"Naturally. For you are mine."
"You're full of surprises." I gawked at the layout. No guy ever did this for me. "I thought the Volardi weren't, uh, creative. Isn't that why you love our TV and movies?" At least most of you. So far, Zephyron hadn't shown Alen's fanboy-level interest, although he seemed to linger on The Muppets.
"Our minds are different, but we are a race of problem solvers. You were sad, so I corrected it. Am I wrong?"
"No, but that's not it. You're this big, intimidating man who crushed Zerlites with a rock, and now you're doing this."
"A Volardi cannot be one. We can be as gentle as a Femeni and practical like a Dara. You see my Soturi side most because Sudo is dangerous, yet this world can be paradise." His eyes lingered on me after he said it.
Seeing more of his other sides sounded damn nice. I picked up a yellow fruit with tiny black bubbles; its surface was somehow as cold as ice cream. Sweet juice exploded across my tongue. "Oh, wow..." It was something like apple pie and bubble gum.
"Not something you expected to find on a harsh desert planet?"
I smiled. "No, not at all."
"Do you know why we venture to the stars?"
I paused, savoring another fruit bite. "I always assumed it was for resources or alliances. We help you, so repay the favor with land or Omegas. You know, 'Dara practicality.'"
"An excellent theory, but no. We understand the universe holds wonders greater than ourselves. Treasures we cannot enjoy unless we seek them out." His gaze softened further, and he leaned forward. "You, Thomas, are one."
I made sure to keep the smile in my voice, "What's so wonderful about me?"
"You are kind, intelligent, and strong. You repurposed the Simulacrums' armor and saw them as individuals. You used your voice to fight Zerlites and turned Sandari, who were unhappy with our presence, into renewed allies. You are... incredible in mind and body."
On Earth, no man ever looked at me like this, least of all one who once said I stunk of the ocean. I met his purple-eyed gaze, unable to look at anything else. He invited me to sit on a bed of grass next to the food and then knelt.
His hand rested on my shoulder, with eyes full of wonder. "May I show you how I see you, my mate?"
His words sent a shiver down my spine. "You still call me that even without the official records?" I asked softly.
"In my heart, we are already mated. The archives will be updated."
His wide hands moved to my shoulders, kneading tension away. Strain from Earth, Sudo, and everything melted under his touch.
"You carry far more than a Femeni or an Omega should."
"It's stress. Everyone has it."
"You don't have to bear it alone."
It should have sounded like a line, but didn't. I turned away, a tear slipping free. He would have stopped, and I couldn't let anything ruin this moment.
He shifted, and his hand trailed down my thigh. Every finger press was methodical, as if strumming a slow love song on a guitar.
"You are beautiful," he said.
My eyes closed as I slid into the sensation of his touch, and he massaged my foot. "Oh..." A small burst of sweet juice touched my lips as he fed me without me asking.
"Do you want me to do anything?"
"Your existence is more than enough."
I didn't answer. I couldn't. Not without shattering this moment.
His warm hand rested on my baby bump, impossibly gentle and nothing like I could have imagined back in Hollywood.
"Tell me. What are the sensations like, to carry another?"
My eyes opened. "It's different. There's a weight that doesn't feel like mine. Other times it's like I'm holding part of you, and it makes it right."
His thumb traced circles on my belly. "There is no time for a Soturi when their mate is more enticing than now. You were already a sight to behold, but now..."
His eyes dipped, and my breathing hitched when I noticed the unmistakable bulge under his robe, proof of my effect on him. Soon, it brushed hard against my leg. His hand never left my stomach as he leaned in with hot breath over my lips.
Our kisses were hungry, melting into each other. With a wet tongue, he wrapped around mine. Again and again, each time deeper than the last. His hand slipped from my stomach to cup my face before his thumb wiped away a tear.
"It's because I'm happy," I whispered.
"I know. As am I."
I tilted my head, giving him better access, and he took the invitation.
Down my neck he went, his masculine scent pulling me in deeper, wrapping around me.
Every touch sent sparks low in my belly, and I knew he could smell the shift in me.
He pulled back, not looking so much like an alien ruler or warrior, but a man drunk with need.
"It is a Volardi tradition to record. But as I've said, in my heart, we are mated."
"I'm not concerned about them," I said. "Just us."
He smiled and pulled off his robe. Every inch of him was carved, massive, and beautiful. He knelt and carefully unwrapped me, his smile deepened as he looked me over.
With my slick on his fingers, his hand wrapped around me, slow and firm. Whenever I got close, he ever so gently slowed and applied loving pressure, keeping me from decorating his chest.
I was trembling when he lifted my legs.
Parts I never had before screamed to be taken, stretched, and filled. Instead of an alien cock, he leaned in and licked at my entrance. Volardi nanites meant I'd always be clean, but I never had a man do this.
I cried out, writhing under his mouth, but he held me steady as my vision blurred with every lap of his tongue, working his way deeper inside. It was beyond great, but I moaned, wanting more. "Please..."
He leaned back with my slick over his lips and a nearly-drunk face glistening under the desert sun. "Yes?"
After catching my breath, I spoke. "The Volardi fix problems. I have one: you're not in me."
He aligned himself and smiled. Other men would have just stuck it in, but he waited so I could hear what he knew was important. "I love you, Thomas."
"I love you, too."
"My mate," we said in unison.
He pushed in slowly, and every inch stretched me until I gasped, filled in ways I didn't know I needed. Everything else faded: Politics, aquatic Soturi, everything. There was only us.
My body responded so easily to him. There was no hesitation. No barrier.
I inhaled sharply as he filled me more. Pressure, a touch of pain, and a strange rightness as if I'd waited for this my whole life. He moved carefully, watching my face, kissing my legs, stomach, and chest.
I held him close, rocking with him in a slick, aching rhythm. Time slipped away as we lost ourselves in the pulse of heat and skin.
I was already a pressure cooker, and I had just a sense of it happening before I decorated his tanned chest with my arousal as my vision flashed white.
He groaned and kept thrusting faster, deeper until he shouted and came inside me.
His arms stayed braced, so I wasn't crushed, but I felt every twitch and tremble.
His dark eyes met mine. No words were needed.
I think like me, he couldn't speak, and he kissed me again as if making up for lost time.
Volardi probes whirred, capturing The Moment for the official records, but we were already mated in our hearts. Now the universe would know it too.
***